I nod, throat thick. “You never said that about Marlee.”
“Yeah, man. I didn’t.” His expression darkens. “She wasn’t good for you. You deserved a hell of a lot better.”
“You knew something I didn’t,” I say quietly, staring out the window so I don’t have to see the look in his eyes. “Saw through all the charm, the golden blonde hair, and fake smiles. All the lies. I was too young and too damn stupid to notice what she was hiding.”
“What’re you talking about?”
I sigh, running a hand through my beard. Need to clean it up again, but Georgia and Aurora like tugging on it too much and I’m weak where they’re concerned.
“Kade?” he prompts, voice and expression serious.
“The day the social worker brought Aurora…” I swallow thickly, heart twisting along with my insides. “Ethel told methings. About Marlee. Her husband. The accident. Stuff I didn’t know. Stuff I wish I didn’t know now.”
And for the first time, I let it all out.
Tried to bury it. Pretend the past didn’t matter.
Told myself the things I wasn’t there to see or stop aren’t on me—and logically, I know that. Had no idea Aurora even existed.
And still, I don’t know exactly what happened to her. If the abuse was done by Marlee or Travis, or both. Fuck, maybe neither, but the asshole’s record would suggest otherwise.
And Marlee…
I know not all abuse is cyclical. I know people can stop it if they want to. Know that just because her grandma Kim and her mom were awful and solved shit with open hands and closed fists, doesn’t mean Marlee followed the pattern with her own kid.
But then I think back to the fights we’d get in when we were young. I think about the way she didn’t shy away from hitting me or slapping me when she was pissed.
She’d be crying and raging and burning, and I’d see those tears and soften, every damn time. I’d grab her up, ignoring the sting of her hands, and hug her tight, telling myself it was just the trauma, just the hurt she was working through. I’d comfort and love on her, and she’d cry some more, tell me she was sorry and she wouldn’t do it again.
That never stuck either.
But, we were young, and I had myself convinced it was passion, not…
Not somethingugly.
When I’m done rambling, sharing more than I meant to, Griff is still as a statue, eyes burning, jaw ticking. “You learn anything else?”
“Nah. But... does it really matter anymore? Aurora’s adjusting. We even caught her trying to walk the other day. She’s sleeping better now, too.” My throat constricts, and I mutter, “Thoughtit was just her teeth, but I think maybe it was nightmares. The trauma of all the shit she’s been through.”
Griff doesn’t say anything for a long time, but when he speaks, it’s soft and measured like he’s worried I’ll get mad. “You tell Georgia all this?”
I shake my head, stomach twisting with the amount of shit I’m keeping from my girl right now. Wasn’t intentional, I’m just… delicate with her.
“She’s got a lot going on. And she’s finally settling in. Working her ass off at her day job, and on this thing for my mom. Been over a month since that night in the field. Since I told her she was mine. She hasn’t tried to run.”
“But?” he asks.
“But sometimes, I can still see her fingers twitch and her eyes dart to the door when things get heavy, like she’s checking for an escape plan.”
He frowns. “She alright?”
I nod, pulling my phone from my pocket, more guilt and sadness eating at me.
“Yeah. Just... scared, I think. She’s like Aurora. Been through a lot.” I bring up the file and hand it over. “Remember how I told you her mom was born here?”
He nods, gaze flicking to the screen.
“I’ve been digging. Trying to help her find her family.”
