"I…"
"My, my." His free hand trails down my front, and he pinches my inner thigh. "You're a little liar, Kayla."
"I'm not. I don't remember."
"But you do know why you said those words."
My stuttered breath reverberates all the way down my back. "He—" I lick my lips. They feel dry despite the mist in the shower. "He would beat me really hard if I tried to stop him from assaulting my mom. But her cries…it was horrible. Especially when he, when he…"
Dropping the loofah, he stops washing me. One hand comes around my wrist to press against my pulse, and the other lays flat on my chest. "When he what?"
I hate Nate's soft voice. I know it's only to coax the truth out to me. And yet I fall for it.
