Unmasked

Finn's POV

I kept Valerie upright despite her elbow squishing the tender spot in my stomach.

"I think she passed out." I clarified as Simone came near us. I shifted Valerie against my side as I bent, draping an arm behind her knees, hefting her into the air. "Can I take her to her room?" the pounding in my ears overshadowed everything from my blistering anger to my bruised body. I was running on a serious adrenaline high.

"Go!" Simone gestured towards the exit with barely contained horror.

Valerie's step-mom was leaning on the end wall, a hand pressed against her mouth as blaring voices came from the phone. I willed myself to ignore them. I got Valerie into bed. I sat beside her not knowing what else to do. I just knew I wasn't going anywhere until she woke up, until I knew what was going on. Except… I already knew. It was why I Hulked out on her step-brother. Part of me couldn't process it. Why was this happening? Was it related to our breakup? I wanted to charge after that worm and—I stopped that train of thought. I dug down deep, for self control I'd perfected over these two years. Mom's face floated around in my mind's eye; I could still pinpoint the lines of disappointment and raw worry whenever I saw her—it was the first thing I saw when I looked at her. Ever since that night. I wasn't drunk off my ass and Valerie was right: someone like him wasn't worth life altering consequences.

I sat beside Valerie, glancing down at her; I brushed a thumb along her chin. Her head shifted and I cupped her cheek. My breathing flared as foundation rubbed off. It was small, but it was there. A faded purple-greenish bruise.

Maybe landing Jackson in a coma was the least I could do.

"What have you been hiding from me?" I whispered to my only audience: a messed up, passed out girl.

Voices became clearer a couple of minutes later. Simone was helping Maria along; her face reminded me of my mother's the night she got home—the night of the incident. Maria couldn't take her bloodshot eyes off Valerie.

"Is she… I-Is sh-e ok-okay?" she stuttered, sniffing. Maria pressed her lips together—they kept trembling, though. And despite this horror-shit-show, I felt a sliver of sympathy for the woman. But the reason why she was coming undone turned me into a rage maniac. Just the simple thought of it… It felt like the universe was having a great big laugh at my expanse, having this happen to Valerie in honor of my past mistakes. The one girl I fell for… and she had to be put through this horrible experience. I felt cursed.

"She's sleeping, miss." Simone had snuck up, hovering above Valerie like a silent keeper. She stroke her hair, looking up, "Should I call mister Kevin?" I was impressed by Simone's calm demeanor; I had a feeling this was what they called the calm before the storm. Maybe Jackson had to worry about her sticking a knife between his ribs.

"K-Kevin—" Maria stammered. "My—my God!" she broke down all over, crying without showing signs of stopping. I felt like an intruder watching a family's descent into hell.

Simone appeared to sense my discomfort, placing a hand on my shoulder before leaving Valerie's phone on the nightstand. She slid me a short glance, heading towards Maria who was halfway collapsed on the floor.

"Miss..." I tuned out Simone´s speech, focusing on the phone left behind. I thought about watching the video that had traumatized Maria. I sighed deeply. Valerie had earned my trust and whatever was happening... I wanted her to tell me.

***

Valerie stirred, startling me out of my typhoon of thoughts, ranging from murderous intent to a sheer load of guilt. My face stung as I licked dry lips, but I overlooked it. My heart jumped to my throat at the look on Valerie's face. She was staring at the bed like someone had stranded her in a pond filled with snakes. I touched her left shoulder and she jerked into the wall, heaving. I pulled away, holding up both hands in an attempt to get her frenetic scrambling to stop.

"It's just me—it's Finn. You're okay. Jackson's not here, it's just me." Valerie threaded a hand through her hair, pinning it back; she took one long look at me, becoming more lucid with each breath. Then, Valerie flung her arms around my neck. I let out an oof, rocking to the side, nearly toppling to the floor of her bedroom. I didn't have time to hug her back because Valerie's hands slid to my face; I winced once she touched a spot on my cheekbone, near my nose.

"You're hurt." she whispered.

"Getting punched will do that—ow." she touched a place just above my eyebrow, probably bruised. "Hey. Hey—just let up. I'm okay." I covered her right hand with mine. "I think we should be worrying about your bruises." Valerie twisted her hand around, grabbing my wrist exposing my knuckles.

"You're skin is torn, Finn." I kept my face neutral. How had I missed that? I stretched my fingers, biting back a wince. Guess the adrenaline was finally wearing off... "You stayed."

Our moment got disrupted by the sound of someone pushing the door open. Valerie gripped my shoulder staring at... I glanced behind me. I'd only seen the man once but I recognized Valerie's father. The man looked shaken. I stumbled to my feet—Valerie grabbed my wrist, I looked between father and daughter.

"I should go." I told her. Or them.

Her pupils grew large, her bronze eyes glistening and pleading.

"But I need to talk to you..." her voice was scratchy.

"Valerie, sweetheart," her father's voice was surprisingly soft. Especially under the circumstances. "I think he can wait downstairs."

"Yes." I didn't miss Valerie's squeeze but kept myself from glaring down at her; if there was a time for me to disagree with her father... this wasn't it. "I won't leave until we talk, okay? I won't."

Valerie relented, releasing my hand. Her gaze slid to her Dad's. I held a breath as I made my way past Mr. Monet. I heard the door being shut as I reached the stairs.

Valerie's POV

After I showed Dad the disturbing homemade video on my phone, I told him everything. It went without a single interruption. No one could blame him; his apparent sainted step-son was a dirt-bag who had harassed, blackmailed and raped his daughter.

The first thing Dad told me was:

"I already called someone to replace the locks and I told the building personnel to call the police if he shows up." Dad wasn't kidding around. "If he wasn't Maria's kid..." I heard him mutter as he scrubbed his face. For a minute he just stared ahead at the picture of my Mom. She was smiling in it. Then, he turned to me a haunted look, "I'm taking you to a hospital tomorrow."

"Dad..."

"To a private clinic, honey. Don't worry about anything. Please." Dad rubbed my knee, but he couldn't make eye contact with me, "Valerie..."

"Dad, I..."

We both started. Dad waited for me to speak.

"I... I want to talk to Finn now. Is that alright?"

Dad took a minute to answer, I didn't miss the dimming gleam in his eye. Like he'd expected me to say something else and this had disappointed him.

"If that's what you want, honey." he whispered trying for a small smile. Watching him leave tore into because I felt so detached from him... It couldn't be helped. This wasn't the type of news a father ever wanted to get. I knew this conversation would have a Part Two once we were ready. Plus, I figured Dad wanted to check on Maria. That was alright with me, because I needed to see Finn and explain everything.

Finn came in just as I was inspecting my arms; I had too many bruises to keep track of. I tugged the sheets to cover myself, keeping them secured around my shoulders.

"Do those hurt a lot?" he whispered sitting beside me. He gripped his knees, the skin around the bloody knuckles turning white. He was anxious.

"There are things I need to tell you." I began.

"I didn't watch the video." He shared quietly.

A breath escaped me.

"Finn," I hugged my elbows, letting out a shuddering breath. I dug my fingers into the bone. "Do you remember… Before... You asked if I'd gone out with anyone?" by the look on Finn's face he knew where I was going with this. "I dated… Jackson. It was only for a few months, but…" there was no easy way of saying it. To say that I willingly had sex with that awful human being. "But we had…"

"You don't need to say it. I got it."

I forced myself to ignore the bitter sounding tone. I nodded.

"We didn't tell people we were dating. It wasn't something I was overeager to share with the world. Not like with…" I caught his eyes for a beat. "Not like with us." That lingered in the air. "Anyway, I broke up with him once I found out our parents were getting married. I didn't want to make things uncomfortable for them. Jackson… didn't take it well." I tilted my head, nipping my lip. "He slapped me."

His mouth twitched. For a second, I thought he was going to get up, grab something and smash it into a wall. Or yell loudly. Instead, he shut his eyes as if sweeping pain under a rug.

"How could you date a guy like that?"

"I had no idea he was like that." I gritted. "He was an average rich jock. Was I supposed to expect him to be an evil bastard? I was lonely, Finn. Jackson wasn't someone who cared about… feelings. He's shallow and... and part of me—part of me could identify with him. But once he slapped me, I..." I told him how Jackson pursued and annoyed me with the goal of getting back together.

"And you chose not to say anything to anyone?"

"I thought he was being an obnoxious ass. Some guys are just like that." The sheet pooled at my waist. I didn't pull it back up. "I tried to make him see that nothing would ever happen between us..."

"And when he didn't listen you should've said something. To someone. Anyone. It didn't have to be me. You could've told your Dad, your—your psychologist."

"Because things would've been that easy?" angry tears poured down my red cheeks.

"Yes!" Finn hissed.

I wiped my face, hands getting smeared with leftover makeup and tears.

"He would've lied, Finn. I'm the one with a crazy track record. I've been in therapy for ten years. I have a history of lying and playing people for my own agenda. Who do you think people would believe?" he gave a scoff, fixing me with a boiling gray stare. His jaw was clenched so tight, I worried its muscles would cramp. "I did everything I could to avoid messing up Dad's marriage. Okay?" I whispered desperate for some form of understanding.

"Who cares about that? That bastard hurt you, Valerie! He…"

"Raped me." I stated stonily. Finn lips were a thin line. "He drugged and raped me. Finn…" I came clean about the photos and Jackson's ultimatum.

Finn's POV

This was like a scene straight out of some femme fatale movie or whatever. It wasn't that insane coming from Valerie, though. Ava once told me Valerie could write a book on revenge.

"I can't imagine what these last days must've been like for you. But... you could've trusted me..." How had I attended years of support group meetings and was unable to find words to comfort her?

She had a ton of shit to say, though, and it all came spilling out of her when my silence overstayed its welcome.

"I was terrified of losing you! You can't punish me for that—you're the one good thing I haven't kicked out of my life, okay? Could I have done things differently? Yes. But you weren't the only variable. And I was afraid of what you'd do. The irony isn't lost on me, okay? It's... It's like history repeating itself with a sick twist. So... yeah. I was afraid for me and I was afraid for you—because I want to kill Jackson. I was worried about your future—I didn't want you to do something stupid! I didn't want you to risk ruining it me. Because I know you. And... and I was afraid of what this would do to my Dad and Maria if word got out..."

"Shit." I muttered under a breath. I gripped her shaking shoulders. Valerie was hyperventilating, and I'd only seen this happen once. I slid closer to her and this petite girl grabbed onto me for dear life, rubbing tear stains, make up and snot all over my shirt. I didn't want to hold her too tight, I was afraid of hurting her. I hid my face in her hair and let her hold on and vent, until the bawling gave way to sobbing and then came the soft hiccups.

"Valerie," I swallowed hard. "There are things beyond your control. Some things are going to happen no matter what we do, they'll happen." She knew I was right, because she winced. "I understand why you were scared out of your mind. I just wish you would've asked for help, because..." I brushed a wet piece of jet black hair from her nose cane; I tucked it away from her bruised face. "I would have believed you. I wish you'd told me about him and you. Because every time you complained about him, I didn't think... I thought you were being a spoiled girl. I mean, if I thought for one second that he..."

I tipped my head back, heaving in frustration. Would have. Could have. None of those would change anything for her now. I brushed my lips against her hairline.

"Has anyone ever told you that you care too much?" I glanced over just in time to see new tears glistening in those clusters of galaxies. "You do. Do you know what's so damn frustrating about it?" I reached to caress her cheek, the unblemished one. "It's one of the reasons why I love you." Sure, my heart hadn't recovered from the stampede from about a week ago, but right now, despite all the wrong turns Valerie had taken to get here, she needed my support not pettiness.

"You... love me?" she choked out bewildered.

"I told you I did." I whispered.

"But... I thought... After..."

I shook my head at her very slowly.

"People don't fall out of love that easily, marshmallow." Valerie's icy nails were carved deep into my heart. I had a sneaky suspicion that if I tried prying them off, I would fail spectacularly. "Listen. I know you're… You're putting up this wall of strength, but eventually it'll come tumbling down because you can't hold yourself up anymore. No one's invincible, Valerie. People don't go through what you did and handle it alone. And that's alright. I don't know what recovery's going to look like for you or how long it's going to be, but I know I want to help. So please let me."

Valerie's POV

Finn's left arm was still wrapped around my waist, not really clenching me against him, just resting against me, making me feel safe and warm. Every word he said made my heart hurt, like it was growing so big that it was nearing explosion. I didn't think I could feel so much after the last weeks. The feeling was so immense, so vibrant and solid that I couldn't wrap myself around the idea of it.

I let my gaze fall on his raw knuckles.

"You should get that cleaned."

"Yeah. Fuck. I… just… Valerie, this whole time I've been sitting at home, mad at everyone and everything. While you were..." I saw his face scrunch then wince from the cuts on his face. "If Ava hadn't…" Ava. Our conversation had sparked her distrust due my odd behavior. That's why Finn came—why he was here. Luck. "I know this is all—it's just a lot. But the thing... I just want you to know that," he paused taking a steadying breath before looking me straight in the eye. "What that bastard did to you or the way you handled it, it… it doesn't change how I feel."

"Does that mean we're getting back together?" I blurted in a single heartbeat.

Finn's eyes softened, though the lines around his eyes were sad. My heart squeezed four sizes smaller.

"Valerie," I bit my tongue. "I don't think we should have this conversation now. I think… I should go. My Mom's called three times. She wants to know why I missed dinner." Dinner? What time was it? "And I want you to get some rest."

He was right. I should eat something. Shower. Have a good night's sleep. Not to mention: change out of these ruined clothes. Finn braced his hands on the mattress, pushing to his feet. I glanced up, tilting back as he leaned down; my eyes slid shut against the chaste feel of his lips on my forehead.

"I'll call you." Finn whispered. I wanted to ask when he would call, but I didn't want to add to his load. Exhaustion was like a cloud of bees buzzing around Finn's blond head.

"I'll answer." Against all odds, I cracked a joke.

"You better." Finn whispered back before heading out, leaving me alone, but with a budding feeling in my chest.

Hope.

***

Finn's POV

The night I got home from Valerie's, I lied with every tooth in my mouth once my parents asked what happened to my face. I thought Mom would have a heart attack, no joke. It was one big fight with my mother demanding to know what happened and I unloaded by yelling louder and storming into my bedroom, slamming the door and sliding to the floor, banging the back of my head against the door. I sat on the ground, in the dark, just gripping my hair.

Thinking about Valerie. About what she must be feeling and what she must have felt. What happened to her broke me, I couldn't fathom what it was doing to her. She was a tough-as-nails girl, but come on. When I was sure everyone had turned in for the night, I creeped out, dragging my ass into the bathroom to clean up. I poured an insane amount of disinfectant, opting to feel the burning instead of the strangling sensation around my throat.

The next day, I told my very angry parents that I'd gone to a party and a fight had broken out, I told them I got hurt trying to separate the two douchebags.

"Do you remember the way you yelled at your mother? Finn." my father raised his voice. A warning. I looked up from my finished bowl of cereal.

"Yes, Dad. I remember." a muscle ticked in my jaw. "I was angry because Mom started making assumptions—"

"I asked what happened!" Mom yelled from the other side of the kitchen island. I swallowed a snappy retort.

I glared at the leftover milk.

"It wasn't what you said. It was the way you looked at me. It was the same look you gave me the night of the party, Mom. Like I'm a bomb you need to diffuse." I slipped Dad a glance. He sighed, shutting his eyes. We were all sick of this dance. "I'm not a threat you need to neutralize, okay? Just leave me alone."

As I left for the bathroom, I saw Mom's face. It told me she wanted to use her journalist skills to dig deeper into my alibi. Through the thin door, I heard Dad wearing her down with statements like "you have to let him live his life", "this is why he wants to go to MIT". The list went on…

Today marked the third day of that horror show.

Valerie had called yesterday, telling me how things went at her check-up. She hadn't talked a lot unless I asked something; I felt like she didn't know what to say. Or she did, but she couldn't bring herself to because… Well, because she was Valerie. Would that just get worse now? I flexed my hand—the one with reddish knuckles—as someone patted me on the shoulder.

Dad had come home for lunch and was leaving for work.

"How are those bar fight wounds?"

"It wasn't a bar fight. It was just two drunk guys at a party." I muttered softly. No use pushing the lie so hard. "They sting."

"That they do." Dad grabbed his keys off the small table near the door, stuffing them into a pocket. I waved as he left—the door pushed open again, Dad poked his head and pointed at the table, "Oh, Finn. A package came for you—it's on the table. I didn't open it."

"Thanks, Dad." The moment the door clicked shut, I moseyed on over, snatching the envelope. It was colored cream. It had my address and a stamp and was addressed to me. I frowned; I hadn't the faintest idea of what it could be, I hadn't ordered anything.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I slid a curious finger under the envelope's lip, forcing the thing open. I scowled at the contents—photographs? I grabbed the stack and felt jealousy rear its head only to be stomped out by disgust. These were the photographs. The pictures Valerie never wanted me to see. The reason she broke up with me. I wanted to set them on fire. Before I knew it, I was tearing them to pieces, hoping it would scrub the idea of her with another guy—her douchebag of a step-brother—clean. How had she dated that guy? I'd lost count of how many times I'd asked myself that question. About to tear the last photo, I felt something thinner slide against the photo's underside. I turned the thing around:

She's mine

That's what the fucking piece of paper read. I crumpled it. I dumped the torn photographs and paper into a plastic bag and took it out to dump it in the nearest dumpster. I wondered about where the animal ran off to, Valerie told me no one had seen or heard from him. The photographs had been mailed a couple of days ago. Back in my room, I sat and thought long and hard. I was miserable without her. I knew she was miserable for a hundred different reasons and that some would take their time to heal, but one of those reasons was she was missing me too. And if I could get her misery down to ninety-nine reasons, I should. I couldn't expect Valerie to stop overthinking when I was doing the same.

I grabbed my cellphone feeling resolute.

"Hello…?" came a raw, tired voice. I rubbed my forehead.

"Valerie." Her name sounded like a prayer. I could picture her blinking, could imagine her sitting up because I just knew she'd been asleep.

"Finn?" I closed my eyes. God, I'd missed that. Valerie breathed quietly into the receiver, waiting for me. I glared ahead, gaze unfocused.

"We need to talk. Can I swing by?"

"Y-yes." she stumbled. "I'll get dressed. Is… How are you?"

I could hear her scramble to get out of bed. Adorable, my mind supplied and against all odds, I smiled into the phone. This girl drove me nuts. Seriously. She would be the death of me.

"I should be asking you that." I said at last. I felt like a right-bastard. The last time I saw her, I told her I wanted her to rest and take time to recover… But I'd needed time, too. "I'm sorry for taking so long… to go see you."

There was deafening silence.

"I understand." Valerie said quietly.

I mussed a hand through my hair.

"Valerie," my brain swept through the imagery committed to memory. The one I kept going back to was of her with her eyes scrunched like she'd tasted something bitter. "We'll be alright, okay? I can't wait to see you." Fuck, if that wasn't true.

"Finn!" her voice damn near pierced my right eardrum.

"Yeah?" there was another bout of silence. Her breathing was so shallow, that if I shut my eyes it would feel like no miles separated us. That she was sitting next to me.

"I love you." Came the soft-spoken admission. "I just thought… I'm sorry I didn't say it back…" hearing those three words almost made things seem sunny, happy. Simple. Like they'd been two weeks ago.

My lips quirked as a Star Wars reference she would love came to mind.

"I know." I whispered back.