It was remarkable what I could remember when I was left to my own devices all alone in a dark room for hours. With not as much as a whisper in the house, my brain was racing a million miles per hour, memories I'd long since ridded myself of surfaced, and all I could do was let them sit on a continuous loop inside my head as I stared blankly at the blurring wall opposite of me.

My thoughts decided to hyper fixate on one of the moments I'd wished to erase from existence entirely and it left me shaking as tears fell.

I was around fourteen. Mom had managed to weasel her way into a job at the local diner and had been working late, but it didn't stop her man of the week from walking through the front door in the middle of me eating dinner. I was horrified. He only stared down at me with my fork still halfway to my mouth and muttered incoherently under his breath as he made himself at home on the ratty old couch Mom had her last boyfriend pick up off the street and carry up the flight of stairs with another addict from the alley a few blocks away. They'd been promised to be paid, but I had pretended not to understand what payment my mother had offered knowing we had no money.

Shaun was better off then most of the scumbags she picked up like stray cats on the street. He was able to dress himself and had a car-but he looked about as old as Mr. Fitzpatrick a few doors down who was creeping up on sixty-and Shaun was in his late thirties.

"Why is there never anything to eat?" he'd snapped, as if I were the sole provider and it was my fault food wasn't my mother's priority. Most nights I was lucky to be able to bum food off Erin or one of her friends.

I had decided it'd be best for me to make myself scarce in case he was one of the violent types. I'd offered up what was left of the TV dinner and stood, but I was more than aware of his eyes lingering on my bare stomach. I shifted uncomfortably and started to turn, wanting desperately to yank the crop top down, but knew in doing so it'd drawn more attention to my breasts.

"When's your mom supposed to be home?" he demanded, eyes finally flickering upward to my bust, his tongue sweeping over his chapped lips.

"I don't know." I'd breathed, then realized my phone was still on the kitchen table behind him. I was on Dad's plan- thousands of miles away and he'd been insistent that he pay for it so he knew he could get ahold of me if necessary. "I have schoolwork to do. I gotta go."

The second I stretched my arm out to snatch my phone from the table, he'd moved into the entryway and pressed his body against my own, his hand lingering on my butt for a few seconds before he finally drug himself to the couch and threw himself down without as much as a glance back my way. He was acting as if he hadn't just touched his girlfriend's fourteen-year-old daughter. Not chancing him trying again-or doing something worse, I had rushed down the hall and locked my bedroom door before sliding down the door with my head in my hands.

Most of Mom's boyfriends never stuck around long enough to notice me, and if they did, they pretended as though I didn't exist. That I was just a piece of scenery that wouldn't affect what they wanted or needed, so there was no reason to acknowledge it. Some of them had looked at me with the same hunger they did my mother, no fear of the consequences that'd been inflicted upon them if they made the attempt. I suppose they didn't have much left to lose. These men were off the street or close to it, and were only with my mother as a payment for the drugs they were supplying her. If they did anything to me, they probably figured Mom would have their back and cover their asses, and as much as I hated to admit it, they were probably right.

Shaun had done what no other had dared before him that night-he touched me and crossed the line I'd thought I'd be safely secure behind. After that night, I locked my door behind me and kept an eye over my shoulder at all times, even in my own home.

Unfortunately, the feeling had followed me here. I knew in my heart that my brothers and Jere were harmless, that they'd never allow someone to touch me the way Shaun or Adrian had, let alone do so themselves. But my body was on automatic, always on guard and defense to ensure that it never had that kind of pain and trauma inflicted on it again. It was something I wished Jeremiah and Jonathan would understand, but no amount of explanations would break the divide between us and knowing that broke my heart further.

"Addison?" there was a gentle knock on the other side of the door. "You up?"

I shifted on my bed, wiping at my damp cheeks with the sleeve of my jacket. "Yeah."

Jeremiah turned the knob in slow motion, deliberately moving at a snails pace until he was leaning into my doorframe.

I strained to hear the rest of my brothers loud chatter downstairs, but was greeted with no more than Jere's dress shoes against the carpet as he entered the room. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not." I lied.

Jere fell back against the wall beside my bedroom door, allowing for the moonlight bleeding through my bedroom window to illuminate him where he stood. His mess of dark curls had been contained in a slicked back bun, green eyes darkening with every second that passed, not buying my lie. The jacket of his tux fit snugly across his shoulders and each time he moved an arm, I caught sight of the highlighting of the muscles the tight tux caused. The white button up beneath had been undone at the top, the tie askew. He looked as if he'd decided halfway through the dance, he had no desire to be there and started to undress himself halfway here but reconsidered last second.

"How was the dance?" I tried to divert the subject before he could pry, then louder and more confidently asked, "Any pretty girls ask you to dance?"

He eyed me for a minute, and I thought for sure he was going to try and ask again what was wrong, but he only flashed a quick smile that didn't meet his eyes and responded. "Oh, yeah. I couldn't keep them off. Have you not seen me, Andrews? I'm the hottest guy in school."

Despite my best efforts to contain it, a laugh broke passed my aching lips, bitten raw from hours of sitting and gnawing at them anxiously.

"We missed you there tonight." he continued after a few minutes of silence, "I left once Kay and Jon started arguing about me third wheeling. I know where I'm not wanted."

I frowned, wanting to defend Jonathan and Kayla, but I didn't. I just stared up at him, my eyes trailing him as he crossed the room to join me on my bed. "Before you start with your 'It's not like that, Jere' crap, it totally is. I've always known it was irritating to her, but not to this extent."

"You've got to understand her side." I found myself whispering, uncertain on whether my sympathy was for him or Kayla. "She just wants time with her boyfriend and here is his best friend always there. She probably feels guilty too, Jere, and is projecting it on to you. She's sad you haven't found yourself a girlfriend."

"I'm too messed up for a girlfriend." he huffed, unlacing his shoes. "So much unnecessary drama, you know? Swimming is my heart and soul and I promised my Mom—"

He cut himself suddenly, as if he felt as though he'd revealed too much. He then shook his head to himself and finished taking his shoes off.

"I understand." I finally broke the tense silence, knowing better than to press into his own open wounds. "I'm just saying, you've got to see her side."

"I do." he finally looked back to me; green eyes vacant of any decipherable emotions. "I just. . . it's hard for me to be alone. When I'm alone I think too much. I don't like thinking."

I made a gesture toward my cheeks, no doubt blotchy and tear stained at this point. "Me too."

An audible sigh of relief escaped him once his shoes were off and he ran a hand through his gelled hair so it was a mess again. "So much better."

I smiled weakly and answered, "If it's anything, I think you look better with your hair like that too."

"Thanks. Elise insisted I go all out even though I didn't have a date." he grumbled miserably. "Out of choice, I'll have you know."

"I know, Jere." I knocked my foot against his own. "You're the most eligible bachelor at our school."

He chuckled and leaned into the bed post, eyes on me. It wasn't an intense, prompting stare nor was it creepy. I saw the same shift in him as I did my brother the first week of me being here. It was as if he were truly seeing me for who I was; that under all the fear and deflection was just a normal, scared teenage girl wanting to be loved correctly.

"Dance with me." he jumped off the bed and extended an arm, palm up. "I promise I will keep my hands wherever you position them. I don't want to upset you, but I also don't want to go to bed tonight knowing that you didn't get to experience Homecoming."

My heart swelled hearing the words. It was such a sweet sediment it hurt to look him in the eyes and shake my head, "I can't."

"You can. You're choosing not to." he corrected, then fell into a crouch in front of me. "I'm not going to hurt you, Addy."

Every person that had ever promised me that had broken my trust and I wasn't sure if I could handle it if Jere did the same thing.

"You can trust me." he tried again, taking one of my hands. "You can trust me, Addison."

I allowed him to lead me to the center of the room, scroll through his phone until he had a ballad blaring through my otherwise silent bedroom. Every reflex in my body was urging me to run in the other direction, to get as far away from Jeremiah as humanely possible. But my brain and heart were strong enough to temporarily overpower the emotions.

He touched one of his hands to the middle of my back and gently pushed me forward until there was only a few inches separating us. "I'm sorry."

Confused, I lifted my head and stared up at him. "For what?"

"That someone hurt you."

"Yeah." I mumbled, biting into my trembling bottom lip. "Me too."

I don't know when it happened, but I found my head falling against the warmth of his chest and the longer I rested it there, listening to the speeding of his heart, the more the comfort tuned out the fight or flight reflexes and anxiety.

"Jere?" I whispered into his chest.

He was quiet for a while longer before he finally replied. "Yeah?"

"I don't want to hurt anymore." I squeezed my eyes shut in hopes it'd keep the tears at bay. "I don't want all these feelings to have so much control over me. Make it stop. Make them stop."

The ask was something that was undoubtedly unobtainable, but the sense of comfort I felt in that second was enough to have the plea finally be more than just a thought.

"Addy." Jere's words caught in his throat, and I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. For the first time since he'd walked in there was an emotion in them. Something that hindered on the line between guilt and hurt. "I can't."

I knew that.

I didn't respond, but wrapped my arms around his waist and hoped that even if it were only for the moment, that I could escape.