It’s been nearly ten months since Cami and I almost lost everything. Ten months of healing and navigating our way through parenting two teenagers who were used to taking care of themselves.
It’s been tough, but that hasn’t stopped me from taking every day as a blessing. I missed the first sixteen years, so even the tough days, I’m taking them in my stride.
They both jumped at the chance to speak with a therapist. They seem to get a lot out of it, talking out their feelings and thoughts with a stranger. They come back lighter after every session. They’re healing, slowly, but they’re healing.
* * *
I no longer have to force myself to take each step forward when I visit Mom and Mira. The wet grass is a welcome mat, a familial spot to place my feet.
The flowers no longer scream death and loss to me. They tell a story of love and how hard it was felt.
The kids get a lot out of coming here. Especially Blake. She’ll talk Mom and Mira’s ear off for an hour, chatting about life and mind-numbing nonsense like reality TV and social media drama. You’d think they were talking back to her. Maybe in Blake’s way they are.
Hands full of white roses, the twins place a large bunch at the headstone of my mother.
I swear I could see them if I looked up. Lila and Mira. Watching the four of us with wide smiles and happiness in their eyes. It’s taken me a long time to come to the realization that Lila never wanted nor needed retribution. She needed this. Love. She wanted Parker and I to find our place in the world, surrounded by a love she could no longer give us.
It was a bloodied and downright scary road at times, but with her watching over us, we finally found it.
We found them.
Rein and Shay. A battle forged in hate and won through something more powerful than any of us could imagine.
Love.
That was all she ever needed, and now she finally has what I’d be fighting for all my life. Peace.
* * *
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Rocco & Ryn’s Playlist
Don’t Be A Fool, Shawn Mendes
Your Song, Rita Ora
Fallin’, Jessica Mauboy
Praying, Kesha
Warrior, Demi Lovato
Bloodstone, Guy Sebastian
Toxic, Alex & Sierra
Breaking The Law, Emeli Sandè
A Drop In The Ocean, Ron Pope
Dear No One, Tori Kelly
Blue Blood, Laurel
I Found, Amber Run
Tequila, Dan + Shay
Someone You Loved, Lewis Capaldi
Wait, JP Cooper
Choose You, Stan Walker
If I Lose Myself, Corey Gray, Madilyn Bailey
Best Part Of Me (feat. YEBBA), Ed Sheehan, Yebba
Nobody But You, Blake Shelton, Gwen Stefani
Arms, Christina Perry
Darkness, Eminem
You Make It Real, James Morrison
Kiss Me, Ed Sheeran
Intentions, Justin Bieber, Quavo
Come And Get Me, Jay Z
Don’t Get Me Wrong, Lewis Capaldi
Listen Here Reining Devotion
IMPACT
A standalone HJ novel
Defeat. Surrender.
Varying ends of a depressing spectrum. Polar opposites. One signifying greater power. Strength. Winning. The other its counterpart. Resignation. A white flag waving so loudly it’s a perfect symbol of your own submission.
Memories tend to be cataloged by reminders, the familiarity your senses recognize pulling past experiences back into the forefront of your mind. Voluntary or not, it doesn’t matter. A smell, a taste, the feeling of touch, something you can see. They’re appreciations your mind collects over time, building your life experience. Be it positive or negative.
I’d imagine most people would smell the cedar wood here in this room. The potent odor that tickles your nostrils, lingering with importance and command. For me, the smell is repugnant. Suffocating. One that will haunt me for the remainder of my days. So thick with my own defeat, with failure, I can’t even manage to pull a full breath.
My ears feel hollow. Comparable to the feeling of being submerged in water, voices above nothing but a dull echo. The scrape of a chair, the clearing of a throat… all too far away, yet closer than I’d care for them to be.
Inhaling heavily through my mouth, I taste the bitterness of my own remise. My hands shake, and I clench them tightly around the brittle sheets of paper clasped within my damp palms.
Smoothing the crinkled lines against the podium, I blink forcibly in an attempt to focus on the scratch of blue pen marked messily along the lines.
My heart is screaming at me to stop. To walk away. Leave the chips to fall where they may. I’m not strong enough my heart insists. Not to continue along this path. We just want to sleep it says. Crawl into the warmth of my bed and never leave. We’ll be safe there.
Safe.
But I’ve yet to hand over the final sliver of strength left in my mind. I’m clinging to that like a lifeline, it’s letting me breathe, if just for now. I don’t doubt that after today I would’ve used that up too. My mind henceforth as empty as my body, as my heart currently feels.
“Eight months ago.” My words feel like stripped metal on my vocal cords. Jagged and useless. I clear my throat, refusing to look anywhere but at the words before me. “I had my whole life ahead of me. I was young. I was happy,” I continue. “Eight months ago, my body was mine. My mind was mine.” My voice shakes right before it cracks and I pause, clenching my teeth against the tremor in my jaw. I bite my lip, silencing the indelicate sob fighting to escape. Hints of it succeed, choking out in a stuttered breath.
“Moments of that night are faded, hazy in parts. But there are fragments, flashes, minutes that are so very clear. They’re my own living nightmare, and no matter how hard I try… I can’t escape.”
I glance up then, seeking refuge from the judge. A middle-aged white man with hair the color of snow. My lawyer assured me his allotment to my case was a good thing. His history, his long history, shows a clear bias toward women’s rights.
The weathered lines of his face give nothing away. Only watching on impassively as I speak, but I take solace in the kindness in his eyes, encouraging me forward.
“You took liberty on my body that wasn’t yours to take, but what I think you failed to realize, or possibly you didn’t care,” I shrug to myself, my shoulders remaining bunched near my neck in defense. “Is that in that decision, you stole the liberty of my mind. Your actions, your decision… it now controls my life.”
I pause, needing a second to gather my composure. Inhaling deeply, I roll my shoulders, releasing them from the bind of my neck.
“My life is now an ode to what you stole. First, it was my body, my right to say no. Then you murdered my dignity. I realized that more as I lay on a hospital bed, my legs open as doctors poked and prodded my already violated body.”
Images of that moment choose to flood my mind, and I choke on my breath. Bile rushes up my throat, but I swallow the acidity and the burn of the memories back down.
“You stripped away my feeling of safety. I panic in crowds, but I’m petrified to be alone. Which means I no longer know where I fit in this world.
“I have a scar on my inner thigh. One you gave me. A bite mark so brutal it remains imprinted in my skin like a tattoo. It’s the only reminder I’m shockingly thankful for because it led to your arrest. It’s ugly and it will likely stay that way forever. Which is fitting because it’s now how I feel as a person. Ugly. Scarred. Damaged.”
I can feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my face. The liquid stare that wakes me every night; screaming, sweating, and confident I’m ready to die.
“I Googled how long it takes skin to regenerate. The internet says twenty-seven days. It doesn’t seem l
ike much, but for me, it felt like an eternity before the skin that you had touched would be gone from my body. What I didn’t know was that your touch had burnt itself into my soul. So even if I could shed my skin in the way I hoped, it wouldn’t have made a difference.”
I listen as the court stenographer records my statement, word for word. The soft tap tap of fingers bracketing my words.
“I see you in every man I come across. The mailman. The police officer who took my statement. The elderly man who walks his dog every morning and every afternoon by my house. They’re all you. I fear you. I fear them. I feel unsafe. I don’t leave my house. Not unless I’m forced to. My life has changed irrevocably from the moment you made the choice to enter my body without consent. I live my life alone and imagine I always will. Interaction with others is now too difficult. Can they see it? My shame. Do they know how disgusting I am? How dirty?”
A tear falls from my lashes and I wipe at it quickly, annoyed that he’ll see me cry again.
“Eight months ago I had my whole life ahead of me.” I force myself to look at him. The blink of time that our eyes connect enough to open the floodgates as my tears begin a continuous journey down my face. “Now I’ve pushed away every friend I’ve ever had. I quit my job. I ended a relationship that up until you, made me feel like the most special person in the world. Now I feel like a nobody. I have no direction because I’m lost and no matter which direction I turn, it’s you that I come up against.”
He stares at me blankly, the picture of perfection in his chair.
“Eight months ago I was young. I was happy. Now, most days I feel ready to die. My self-worth is so low I consider that the world would likely be a better place without me. Happiness is a memory I can no longer recall. I can’t remember feeling anything but the emptiness I’m now consumed by. You stole my life, Miller Jacobs. You stole my life when you violated my body. You’ll leave prison one day and live your life. There will be roadblocks for you, I’m sure, but I’ll live in the prison of my mind for eternity. I curse you for that, for making me both the victim and the sentenced.”
Folding my paper, I hold it in my shaking hands. Looking away from my rapist, I focus back on the judge. Knowing that I just handed over the final thread of strength I had been clinging to. I was right. From the very tips of my toes to the hairs on my head, I feel devoid, empty. Zoe Lincoln no longer exists. Not in this world. She gave the last piece of her soul in a show of strength, but it took everything from her in the process.
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About the Author
A blonde. A brunette. A tea lover. A coffee addict. Two people. One pen name. Haley Jenner is made up of friends, H and J. They’re pals, besties if you will, maybe even soulmates. Consider them the ultimate in split personality, exactly the same, but completely different.
They reside on the Gold Coast in Australia’s sunshine state, Queensland. They lead ultra-busy lives as working mums, but wouldn’t want it any other way.
Books are a large part of their lives. Always have been and they’re firm believers that reading is an essential part of living. Escaping with a good story is one of their most favorite things, even to the detriment of sleep.
They love a good laugh, a strong, dominating alpha, but most importantly, know that friendships, the fierce ones, are the key to lifelong sanity and fulfillment.
Also by Haley Jenner
Please visit your favorite eBook retailer to discover other books by Haley Jenner:
The Leave of a Maple Series
Archer (#1)
Jake (#2)
Bennett (#3)
Maples, Strawberries and Fairy Tales (#3.5)
Luca (#4)
Toby (#4.5)
The Chaotic Rein Series
Tangled Love (#1)
Reining Devotion (#2)
Stand-alone
Impact
Impact
Cross your Heart
Cross your Heart
Reining Devotion: A Chaotic Rein novel Page 28
