Page 86 of Shattered Dreams


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Guilt clung to me. I had to get the hell out of here before Krew told Decker what Teke had done to me all those years ago.

I hadn’t meant to spill my guts, but when Krew covered me with his body—trying to protect me from the bullets some asshole was shooting at us, my panic reared like a dark specter and I couldn’t fight the living nightmare of the past.

I was back in those woods. Teke was on top of me, ripping through my virginity as if it were his God-given right. I screamed. I fought. But this time, it wasn’t Teke I pushed away. It was Krew.

By the time his voice penetrated my mind and cleared away the waking nightmare, it was too late. I shouted Teke’s name, and Krew—who was far from stupid—figured out without further confirmation from me, what had happened.

“He touched you,” he said sternly, yet his tone was one of confirmation rather than accusation.

I opened my mouth to deny it as tears streamed from my eyes, blurring my vision. I couldn’t hide this secret any longer and slowly nodded.

“How did he touch you?” he asked, but from the way the muscles along his jawline jumped and his nostrils flared, it was obvious that Krew knew. His gaze pierced me with such dark intensity that I flinched. “Tell me!” he roared.

I couldn’t hold onto the past any longer—not when I was vulnerable, naked, and still bathed in the scents of my men from the beautiful connection we had made. I had to expel the poison that flooded my veins before Teke corrupted of what was left of me.

If I wanted that beautiful life with Krew and Decker, I had to tell the truth.

“Tell me, Regina,” Krew uttered in a guttural plea.

I sucked in a deep breath and held it in for a beat before I let it out with the words. “He raped me.”

Krew dragged in an audible breath like it was his last, and tears fell through his thick, dark lashes. “That’s why you hate me so much.” He then began to punch the tiled floor repeatedly, causing lacerations on his knuckles.

“Krew,” I cried, but he shook his head, stood and walked out of the bathroom, leaving me kneeling on the plaster-littered floor.

Dread weighed me down. But I stood, knowing I had to leave. I had to fix this for us—for me. I raced to the bedroom, quickly dressed, and began throwing my things into my backpack. I grabbed my purse, found my phone and the truck keys in Decker’s room and hauled ass through the front door.

Every second, I kept telling myself that I had time—time before the boys found out that I was leaving. I was ashamed for taking Decker’s truck and not being able to tell them what my plans were. Nonetheless, they would try to stop me and I couldn’t let them or my guilt from ending what had been long time coming.

“Regi!” I heard Decker’s voice.

“Come on, damn it.” I turned the key once more, and the engine revved to life. “Yes,” I screeched with relief, before shifting into drive.

I chanced a glance over my shoulder and saw Decker rounding the house, and I jammed my foot down onto the accelerator. As I tore out of there without looking back, I heard Decker shouting my name again.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as Decker screamed. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw him—limping? He was hurt, and still he tried to reach the truck. I shook my head, ignoring his pleas for me to stop, and I kept driving.

Call me a coward for taking off, but I had no doubt that Decker would take care of Krew and his wound. I was also certain that once Decker found out what had happened to me, he would look at me in the same disgusted way Krew had. Tainted and no good.

I returned my attention back on the road and drove.

I had no idea which direction I was going, and since my phone had no bars in this back country of Vermont, I had to trust my sense of direction. But that was my superpower. I never got lost. And sure enough, after a while I saw signs for a highway.

I drove until the gas light blinked on. Since I had no clue where exactly I was and this state had apparently banned billboards, I focused on getting to a gas station before the tank hit empty.

Thankfully, there was a sign at the next exit, and I coasted in to the station right as the engine began to sputter.

It was dark now, but the area was well lit and I was the only vehicle at the pumps. It seemed safe enough to use the mini-mart’s bathroom as the tank filled.

I glanced at my face in the mirror while I washed my hands. Tears were streaking down my ruddy cheeks. I hadn’t realized I was still crying. Disappointed in my lack of control over my emotions, I quickly wiped the wetness away with the paper towel I’d dried my hands with, and walked out of the bathroom.

I grabbed a few snacks and a bottle of water, I paid for them, and headed back to the pump. I returned the gas nozzle to its cradle and got back in the truck.

After I opened a bag of chips and swigged on some water, I checked my phone and saw that I finally had full bars. I typed in where I wanted to go and got the hell out of there.

The moment I merged onto 90 West, my cell phone rang. At first, I was going to ignore it, assuming it was either Decker or Krew. Then I glanced at the name on the screen.

Maya.