Make Me Forget - Page 70

“English,” she replied eagerly. “Do you like to read?”

“Yeah. I just read Dune. Did you read that?” he asked, heartened at how easy it was starting to feel, talking to her.

“Yeah. I love sci-fi. Fantasy, too. Did you read Lord of the Rings?”

“No. I will if you think it’s good. I have a library card. Well, I did,” he added under his breath. He’d had to give an address to get a library card. When Emmitt discovered the card in his bedroom, he’d gone stark-raving mad at the idea of Jake putting down the location of his secret mountain property on a legal document. It hadn’t mattered that Jake had insisted he’d put down Grandma Rose’s address, like he always did for school registration. Jake didn’t even know if Emmitt had a postal address. Emmitt had been too far gone in his rage at that point, however, to listen to reason.

“I have The Lord of the Rings, The Hobbit, and most of the Dune books in my bookcase in my room,” Harper said. “My mom says I’ll have enough books to start my own library soon.”

Jake tried to imagine Harper’s room. He bet it was nice, filled with photos and things she liked. But he really couldn’t imagine the details of a girl’s room, let alone a rich, city girl’s room. He just thought it’d make him feel warm to be in it, just like it made him feel nice to be with her.

“Harper?”

“Yeah?”

“What did your dad mean? About the X factor?”

“Oh . . . I think it’s just that nature is tricky . . . hard to predict. Just when you think that you’d understand how someone was going to turn out, nature turns things upside down. Like when a person is born to these great parents and has a nice upbringing and bam: They turn out to be a total jerk. Or when someone has really rotten parents or a horrible childhood, but turns out smart and nice. Dad says it happens more than psychiatric journals admit.”

“Really? I mean . . . nature does that?”

“Something does. That’s why Dad calls it the X factor.”

He experienced an overwhelming, inexplicable need to hug Harper McFadden. Embarrassed by his rush of feelings, he remained very still and silent.

“Jake?” she asked after a pause.

“Yeah?” he said, rolling his head on his backpack. He sensed her hesitation.

“What do you think your uncle was planning on doing to me?” she asked in a very small voice.

“I don’t know exactly,” he evaded.

“Yes you do.”

“I think he wanted to hurt you.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Did he? Already? After he snatched you, and brought you to his place?”

“He hit my head really hard. When I woke up, there was a sack over my head and he was ripping off my clothes.” Her voice had gotten so quiet, he almost couldn’t hear her. “His hands . . . the way he was touching me, it was like he didn’t even think I was a human being. Like I was a piece of meat or—”

“Garbage,” Jake finished dully. “Did he force h

imself on you?” he asked at last, dreading her answer.

“Rape me, you mean?” she whispered. “No.”

He exhaled in relief.

“But he took all my clothes. He . . . he saw me naked and treated me so rough, bruising me up with his hands.” Something about her voice made him think she was close to tears.

“He’s horrible.”

“He’s going to go to prison, for what he did,” she said, sounding fierce and miserable at once.

“Yeah,” Jake agreed, even though he seriously doubted anything could stop Emmitt from doing exactly what he wanted, let alone a local police presence that Emmitt regularly paid off or ran circles around.

“So . . . do you think that’s why he did it? Because he planned to . . . rape me later? You said he was going to give me to someone else. Were they going to rape me?”

“I don’t want to say, Harper.”

Tags: Beth Kery Erotic
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