Blame It on the Shame (Blame It on the Shame: Lou-Lou and Ricardo's Story #1) (22 page)

He tilts my chin up. “You just keep swinging at everything that moves without seeing who your target is. You're too blind to see that you're only fighting yourself—because you never give anyone a chance to get in the ring with you.”

He reaches for my hand. “You're strong...but you're stunted because you're not learning and evolving. You're not
living
Lou-Lou. I'm
not
trying to hurt you when I say this...but the truth is that you're stuck in your misery and victim mentality.”

He kisses my hand. “But you don't have to be a victim.”

I never thought about it like that before. I treat people badly and push them away because of my past, because of what was done to me.

I thought being tough and strong and cutting people down would protect me from further harm...but it's only hindering me.

Ricardo may have a point. I have to learn to learn to trust others and believe there's still good people in the world. Despite what my father inflicted.

I don't want to be his victim anymore...but I have no idea how to go about that.

Being a victim is all I've ever known. It's the cloak that wraps around me...it's the cord that strangles me.

“How do I—” I stall and swallow back another sob because being around him makes all my emotions come crashing to the surface.

He runs his hands up and down my arms. “You start small. You start by letting someone in the ring with you. Someone who doesn't want to put out that beautiful fire inside you...but wants to show how to utilize it the right way.”

His voice drops to a whisper. “But you have to let me in.”

A tear trickles down my cheek because my defenses are down.

And for the first time in my life...I want to try. I don't want to keep feeling this way inside. I don't want to be wrapped up in my misery and the shame of my past anymore.

“Okay. I'll try, but what if I screw up? You gonna get rid of me? Stop being my friend?”

He wipes my tear away with his thumb. “It's okay if you screw up, it's going to happen. I'll still keep coming back for more. I'll keep proving that you can trust me.” He looks down. “On one condition.” He pauses. “Well, two.”

“What?”

His expression changes from one of determination to one of utter heartache and my heart pulls.

Hell, this man could tell me he wants me to rob a bank at gunpoint right now and I'd seriously contemplate it.

He lifts me higher and pulls me tighter to him. “Please don't do drugs. That's a hard limit for me. If you have a craving, or you feel like you did that night...you can always call me. I'll drop everything for you and I'll get you through it. Just please don't use again.”

The pain in his voice right now is like nothing I've ever heard before. “I promise.” I run my hand along his jaw and look into his eyes. “I
promise
I won't ever use again.”

I fight the urge to tell him that with the exception of last night, I've never actually
wanted
to use before.

But of course, I can't tell him that. Guilt grips me even harder when he utters his next request. “And never lie to me. I don't care how bad the truth is—don't
ever
lie to me.”

His eyes bore into me. “I know you love him but I also know you're scared of him, Lou-Lou. And the only way I can keep you safe is if I know everything. I need you to trust that whatever problems may arise with my father that I will be able to handle it and take care of it—as long as you're
always
honest with me and you don't keep me in the dark about things. You're not a team of one anymore, you have me.”

His voice is filled with such devotion and promise I have to suck in a breath.

“Okay,” I agree.

He gives me that gorgeous smile of his and my heart practically leaps out of my chest.

It's only then that I realize he's shirtless...and I'm still straddling him.

He seems to realize this too because when he looks down I see his adam's apple bob.

Neither of us make a move to get up or fix our position.

Every fiber of my being is telling me to throw caution to the wind and give in to this need that only seems to get stronger the longer I'm around him.

But then I remember the wind is DeLuca...and he's not a cool breeze—he's a tornado destroying everything in his path.

“You don't flinch when I touch you anymore,” he notes.

“That's because I'm not scared of you,” I say. “Not physically anyway.”

And damn, that's the truth because if anyone has the ability to hurt me...I'm realizing it might just be him now.

Before my mouth can catch up with my brain I utter, “I like when you touch me.” His eyes blaze and I continue, “I like that you're not afraid to touch me after I showed you the ugly and dirty parts of me.”

I close my eyes. “I don't feel his disgusting hands on my body when you touch me.” I look up at him. “All I feel is
you
, Ricardo.”

His hands frame my face. I can feel his heart racing like a freight train. “I don't see those dirty and ugly parts of you, Lou-Lou. I see the beautiful parts because as far as I'm concerned, that's all that exists.”

He sighs. “And if things were different. If you weren't with...” his voice trails off and my own heart plummets because I know what he means.

If only DeLuca wasn't the common denominator between us, the tie that binds us together.

Who knows what we could be.

He clears his throat. “Are you sleeping over tonight?”

“Do you not want me to?”

The corners of his lips twitch. “That all depends. Am I going to wake up to the Antichrist again?”

I playfully smack his chest and he links our fingers together and bites his lip. Those damn butterflies swoon like no one's business.

My life is so simple and easy here in this moment. Everything feels just like it's supposed to.

He makes me feel both lighter and heavier at the same time.

“You want to hear another truth that no one else knows?”

He stands up and I wrap my legs around his waist. “You know I do,” he says.

He walks into the bedroom and I crawl to my side of the bed. “The truth is that I don't like Scarlet.”

He turns off the light and pulls me into his arms. “I know, you already told me that, remember?”

“Yeah,” I say. “But you don't know the
real
reason I don't like her.”

“Why don't you like her?”

“Because she has something I can never have.”

I'm starting to drift off when I hear him whisper, “I know the feeling.”

I don't have bad dreams that night.

I dream of nothing but fairy tales and white-knights.

Just like I used to before the nightmares began.

But I can't say the same for Ricardo.

Chapter 15 (Ricardo)

I jerk and thrash around on my bed, trying my hardest to ward off what's happening.

It's no use because I can't wake up...I can't get out of this hellhole.

I can't wake from this nightmare.

I'm stuck. Trapped. Imprisoned.

This is my purgatory.

A pair of hazel eyes sear into me.

A beautiful little girl's screams haunt me.

A crowbar bashing into Graham's skull torments me.

I look back to the little girl and she's no longer looking at my father...she's looking at me.

“Do something! Don't let him kill my Daddy,” she begs me.

I try to get out of the car but I can't, the doors are locked.

I bang on the window and try to break it open anyway.

But I'm too late.

Graham's lifeless body is lying on the pavement, a pool of blood surrounds his now deformed face.

The little girl's hazel eyes fill with tears and she hits the windshield “No! Daddy! Please, No!”

She looks at me again. “How could you, Ricardo?”

“I'm sorry,” I say. “I'm so sorry.”

Shame washes over me because I failed this little girl and I failed a man I looked up to.

Just like I failed my mother.

I grip the sheets...I know the worst of my nightmare still isn't over yet.

Because this part isn't a nightmare at all.

This is a flashback...a reel of torture and anguish that plays on a constant loop inside my head.

I try to scream but my mother's voice halts me. “Shut up!”

She draws up the needle full of heroin and the 8-year-old boy version of me screams for her to stop.

Just like so many times before.

I hated that stuff, it made her cruel and mean. She was no longer kind. It made her say things that broke my heart.

She plunges the needle into her vein and I feel myself start to cry.

She finally looks at me. Her beautiful face contorts into a menacing scowl.

My insides twist because I know what she's going to say.

I try to brace myself for the impact but I can't.

I never can because it hurts so much each and every time.

“I never wanted you. I should have aborted you.” She balls up her fist. “You're going to be just like him. I hate you!”

“I'm sorry, Mommy,” I tell her because I am. I'm so sorry for whatever it is she thinks I'm going to be.

For whatever it is that's causing her so much pain.

“I hate you, Ricardo. I wish you were never born,” she screams over and over again.

I don't know what I did to make her hate me so much but I still loved her even when she acted like this.

She closes her eyes and starts nodding off in her drug induced haze. I bow my head because I know what's coming.

Her body starts to twitch and she screams for someone named Bruno to stop touching her.

She keeps begging and pleading for it all to end.

She keeps screaming how much it hurts.

That's when it finally sinks in for the very first time.

And the shame for being the constant reminder of her rape washes over me until I'm screaming and crying with her.