I shake my head. “I did, I told you that.”
Suddenly his fist flies out and smashes into a nearby lamp. It soars off the table and smashes onto the floor. I flinch and take a step back.
“Don’t you fucking lie to me!” he roars, storming toward me. “I know, Jessica. I know.”
I swallow and try hard to steady my breathing. “I don’t know what—”
“Enough!” he bellows. “I know Hendrix was with you tonight. Did you think I was fucking stupid?”
He’s panting. His jaw is tight. His body is rigid. He’s wild. No, he’s gone beyond wild. He’s lost it, completely. I wrap my arms around myself, struggling for a decent answer. I don’t know what I can say to him. He’ll never believe that I basically begged Hendrix not to hurt him.
“I saw him,” I whisper. “Yes.”
“You fucking lied to me!” he bellows. “Not only that, you betrayed me. I trusted you.”
“No you didn’t,” I suddenly cry, feeling my skin prickle all over. “You never fucking trusted me, Dimi. Not for a second.”
“Did I give you a phone?”
“A phone you were going to take off me the moment you finished your fight. The only reason I got in that cab is because I was running from you, because you betrayed me.”
His face turns stony. “You let him in and you played me like a fucking fool.”
“The only person playing you like a fool, Dimitri,” I tell him, “is you. You’re living so much in the past that you can’t pull your head out of your ass and see the future.”
He stiffens and his back goes ramrod straight. “My business is just that, mine! It was never yours.”
“Then why the hell did you take me? You made it my business the day you took me from my family and used me as a pawn in your sick games. When did you ever think I would change my mind about Hendrix? Did you truly believe I would bring him to you? Or that I’d stop fighting to make sure you didn’t hurt him?”
“What I thought,” he grinds out, “is that you understood!”
“I do understand,” I yell, my voice shaking. “I understand your need to close something, I understand your need to feel okay again. I understand how it feels, but what I don’t understand is the need to ruin someone’s life, and not just one person, but two. You’re taking away from Indi if you hurt him. She’s a gentle, beautiful girl and she loves him. You haven’t stopped to think, if you take him from her you’ll be no better than he is.”
He jerks and his breathing deepens. “You. Know. Nothing. About. Me.”
“I know more than you think!” I scream, shaking my hands. “I know what happened to you, Dimitri.”
“No!” he roars. “What you know is what he told you. Did he tell you what they did to me?”
“They beat you, I know, and I’m sorry but—”
“They fucking raped me!” he bellows, slamming his fist into the wall, splitting it wide open. Blood pours from the wound. “They held me down and one by one they fucking raped me. I was fifteen. There were ten of them. You know fucking nothing about me.”
I flinch and gasp. I knew Dimitri had had a hard time, I knew he’d got beaten and I thought there might have been some sort of sexual assault but ten men? I’d had no idea. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. My hands tremble and I press one to my throat, trying to breathe. Dimitri is staring at me, his entire body shaking. He’s ready to rip someone apart. That someone is likely to be me.
“I . . . I . . .”
“You’ve got nothing,” he growls, his voice barely above a whisper. “Nothing you can say can make it better. It’s his fault it happened and it’s his fault I stayed there and had to deal with it.”
“You’re wrong about that,” I say, my voice cracking. “The reason it happened is because of your mom—”
“Don’t you ever fucking speak about my mother!”
“I don’t mean to insult your mother, Dimitri,” I say very carefully and very gently. “But have you ever stopped, even for a second, and thought about why Hendrix ran? He married her at a young age; she was tangled up in some seriously bad shit. He ended up having to take the law out onto the ocean so he could deal with the problems she had created. He had no choice—her life and yours were in danger. Then he found out you had been beaten and . . . h-h-h—”
“Raped,” he snarls. “Fucking raped. Say it.”
I swallow, unable to answer him. So I continue, “He found out you had been beaten and he found out the problems weren’t going to go away. Soon it would have got worse. Soon she would have put you in the position where you would have been killed. He had someone take her out and the bad men around you, too. When he went to the hospital, you’d heard of your mother’s death and you didn’t know the full story. You hated him. Despised him. That’s not to say he shouldn’t have stayed and fought, because he should have, but he did everything he did because he loved you.”
He’s staring at me, just staring. There’s no expression on his face. I expect him to abuse me, to tell me I’m a liar and I’m wrong, but he doesn’t. Instead he walks straight past me and disappears from the room. I exhale loudly and lower to my knees, wrapping my arms around myself. God, what have I done? I’ve hurt him. I’ve ruined every tiny piece of a relationship we’d managed to create.