But telling myself is one thing, and remembering the way my dad’s nails bit into my neck as he called me a dirty little cocksucker is another.

I take in a shuddering breath.

A finger finds the fist I have at my side, smoothing over the sharp knuckled edge until I release my tight grip. I only then register the pain in my palm from digging my nails into my skin as her so-much-smaller hand clasps mine.

She whispers, “When?”

I choke out something that’s half-sob, half-laughter. “Which time?”

She sucks in a breath, not expecting that.

Finally, finally, I muster the strength to face her. Biting down on the inside of my cheek, I shrug.

“Waylon...”

“I’m sorry,” I blurt. The words fumble out of my mouth before I can catch them or figure out why I’m apologizing. All I know is just that I’m sorry. For so goddamn much. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Through the dark violet light, I watch her eyes widen.

“I’m sorry for scaring you that night. For being such an asshole these last couple months. Everything just—it all became too much, and I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it got that bad.” My voice cracks.

I need her to forgive me. I need us to be okay, and I need her in my life. Now more than ever. I need her to tell me it’s okay, and to hell with Dr. Wells and whoever else might have a problem with that.

Suddenly, there are bony arms wrapping around my neck, and a rat’s nest of hair smothering my face. She’s so tiny—always has been—and yet there’s a steel strength to the way Ivy hugs that never fails to ground me to the fucking earth when I’m seconds from flying up and away, never to be found again.

“I hate him,” I bite out through my teeth. “I hate him so fucking much.”

Her hold is near-constricting, and I relish the way my lungs strain for air.

“He m-messed up everything,” I choke out on a sob. I bury my face in hair, willing the tears to stop, but knowing it’s no use. All I fucking do is cry these days.

“Grow a fuckin’ set, boy.”

I squeeze my eyes shut hard enough to see stars.

“I know, I know,” Ivy says fiercely into my ear. “But it’s okay now. You’re okay, and you’re going to be okay, because I won’t allow you to be anything but. I won’t let what he did to you break you, even if I have to hold you together myself.”

“I hate this.”

She pulls back and cups my face in her hands. Her eyes are welled up with tears, and if that’s not a kick right to the dick, I don’t know what is. My cousin rarely ever cries.