"It doesn't seem like he has enough room," I ventured. "Is he happy here?"
"Probably not," said Charlie, sounding like he was trying not to get choked up. "He's alone, too. I saw him, and I was alone. Just me. He looked at me, and I felt like he was my friend. The first wolf I met, and I didn't feel quite so alone." He reached up and rubbed at his eyes. "I thought this would be easier, but it's hard."
"Do you want me to try to break him out with you or something?" I kept my voice low. "Wouldn't Singh be a better one to ask?" I was pretty certain Singh could get his way with anything if he tried hard enough, and all Charlie would have to do was ask.
Charlie cast me a slightly perturbed look. "Where would he go? He couldn't survive in the wild, not now. He's almost as old as I am."
I blinked. "Then—"
"I wanted to tell you here. This is a safe place for me. It feels safe."
Alarm bells began to ring inside me, vibrating through my bones with a loud internal UH-OH added for good measure. What the heck? "Is it that bad, what you need to tell me?" I asked cautiously.
"Yes. I don't want you to look at me differently when you know, but I decided I wanted to tell you. It was that or keep it secret forever," he explained. "I didn't want to wait till after we had sex and then tell you, in case it changes something."
A warm feeling like melted butter eased through me, and I smiled.Sex. Sex sounded good. "I won't see you differently, Charlie." At least, I hoped I wouldn't. What could he have done that was so bad? But, no, I already knew it wasn't something he'd done. It was something that had happened to him.
Did he really think I'd view him differently if I knew he'd been sexually assaulted? I'd already guessed, and it hadn't changed my view of him. On the contrary; it had made me want to protect him, and possibly kill whoever had hurt him, if I could ever get my paws on them. But he didn't know that, because we'd never discussed it before.
The wolf watched us both with his old eyes, steady, calm, and patient. No wonder Charlie liked this wolf. I couldn't see its captivity as anything but sad and even horrifying, but Charlie had clearly found comfort in knowing another wolf, even if it wasn't a shifter, who was as lonely as he was.
Charlie, though he'd been surrounded by money and opportunity and parents who loved him, had been, on a deep and fundamental level, very alone. He'd had no pack in his life to reassure him.
The things that had made him different from other children his age — some of them related to being a wolf, and some not — had kept him even more alone. With his private and retiring nature, his one-track mind about his obsessions, and his uneasiness with crowds and eye contact, Charlie had never belonged as much as he should have.
This wolf, in a way, had mirrored his own existence, I supposed. As much as his parents had loved him, there was no doubt in my mind that not being around other wolves, or having a pack of his own to join, had harmed Charlie at a fundamental level, leaving scars that would always remain. That wasn't even counting whatever he was going to tell me now.
I braced myself for it, putting a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Whatever you have to say, it's not going to change how I see you or feel about you."
"Good. I hope not." He rubbed a hand quickly under his nose. "I, um, had a boyfriend when I was young. He's in jail now. He wasn't really a boyfriend. I just thought he was. Turns out he'd groomed me." Charlie let out a harsh laugh. "He was a lot older. I thought he was my mate, and I l-loved him. I have a lot of confused feelings about that time, because, on the one hand, it seemed so real, and I felt special. On the other hand, it was confusing and sometimes made me feel really bad, and I didn't understand why.
"When that was over, I decided I wasn't going to have any more boyfriends or fall in love again, because it was just too hard. It was better to be alone, if that's how it was. Then I got a little older and found out that what he'd done was illegal and actually pretty gross. Older people don't actually fall in love with children that way, and, no, I wasn't 'really mature.' I wasn't the only one who understood him. He didn't love me. He was just using me, and I didn'tknow."
A prickling horror went through me at his words. "Charlie, that's — I'm so sorry. That should never have happened." And it never would have, if he'd been a part of a pack.
Wolves are extremely protective of their young, and don't leave them alone with strangers. If any child smells of sexual assault, they'll track down and kill whoever has done it. There's a reason they're so protective: young wolves are particularly vulnerable, often slightly slower to develop than young non-shifters (who are vulnerable enough), and they're too quick to trust their feelings and everything adults say to them.
Charlie would have been even more at risk: a lonely little boy who didn't fit in, who felt like an outsider everywhere he went, who didn't understand yet that not all adults could be trusted.
"I'm so sorry," I repeated. It was different from what I'd guessed, but no less terrible. "That should never have happened to you."
"I went to counseling for years," he said grumpily. "I hated it. I finally stopped going. I don't like going over what happened and dwelling on all the negative feelings, and...and being confused and sad and blaming myself."
"Why would you blame yourself?"
"Because I could've told my parents," he said in a small voice. "But I didn't."
"You were tricked. You've already said he groomed you. I don't know a lot about the subject, but I know adults are smarter than kids, and when they use that for evil, to manipulate and control, it's a terrible thing. It's not your fault it worked. How could you have guessed what was going on, at that age?"
"I don't know. I didn't even later, not till he went to jail for doing it to someone else, and then my parents talked to me, and I told them. The weird thing is, I felt relieved when he — as I thought of it — broke up with me. I'd wanted out for a while. But I also felt guilty. There were times I felt good, but it was a weight off my shoulders when it was over. I was just sorelieved."
He shook his head, frowning hard. "I hate thinking about it. I hate carrying guilt, or feeling like a victim — I hate all of it. I lived through it, but I don't want to deal with it for the rest of my life. I'd rather just forget it and go forward. But everybody wants me to — I don't know. Talk about it. And I never want to talk about it, never."
He looked at me now, for the first time, tears shining in his eyes. "But it wouldn't have been fair to you, that I never told you. So, I'm telling you now, but I don't want to focus on that. If it makes you not want a relationship with me, then, okay, now's the time. But I don't want to keep talking about it. I don't want to keep picking it apart and being filled with regrets. I just want to live for me now. He took enough of my life, enough of my trust, enough of my time. I want to live without him hanging over me." He looked at me, brows furrowed, his expression close to pleading. "Do you understand?"
And I actually did. "Yes," I managed to say, sounding as choked up as I felt. I tried to clear my throat. "Yes, Charlie. I understand." I wrapped my arms around him and leaned my forehead against him. "I'm sorry. And I want you to live for yourself, too."
"Good," he said.
