Sweetest Taboo Read Online Free Page A

that I hadn’t noticed my dad’s entrance. “She wants you to go,” he says to Dallas. “Do your
sister
the courtesy of listening to her.” The extra emphasis on the word “sister” makes us both cringe.
    “Dad—” Dallas begins.
    “This is your fault,” my father snaps, his gravelly accusation directed solely at Dallas. “I hope you realize this is all on you. If you hadn’t—back then, if you two hadn’t—” He broke off, his voice raw, uneven. “If you’d only—”
    “
Eli
.” My mother’s voice is unusually harsh, and I watch as my father gathers himself, then looks at Dallas again, his expression blank.
    “As I said, boy. She wants you to go.”
    “You, too, Daddy.” My words are soft, but firm, because it is not only Dallas who has hurt and disappointed me, who has left the fabric of my world in tatters. “I need you to go, too.”
    For a moment, my father looks taken aback. Then he stands straighter. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re upset and scared. But we need to know what you remember. Whoever did this to you—we have to find them.”
    Warm tears spill down my face. “I know. But not now. I didn’t see anything, anyway. I just—I just want Mom.” A hard sob sticks in my throat. “I can’t handle anything else right now.”
    My father looks at me, this man who has been a powerhouse my entire life. He seems smaller now and a little lost. “Jane—baby girl—I love you.”
    “I believe you. I do. And if it’s true, then I need you to do what I say I need, not what you want me to need. Both of you,” I add with a glance toward Dallas.
    For the first time in my memory, my father seems unsure of his course. Then my mother whispers, “Please, Eli, just for now.”
    Slowly, he nods. He takes a single step toward me, and I actually flinch. He freezes, his body tightening as if I’d reached out and slapped him. “I’m just—I’m just so damn glad you’re okay.”
    Okay?
I think.
Is that what I am? Okay?
    I say nothing, though, and he turns for the door. Dallas follows him, and I have to clench my hands to fight the urge to pull him back. I want him—I want him desperately—but the hurt is still too deep.
    My father walks out without a backward glance, but Dallas pauses in the doorway, lingering there until I lift my head and meet his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says, and I look away, keeping my eyes on the floor as his footsteps fade down the hall and I wonder if I’ve just lost the two men I love most in all the world.

I don’t sleep. Instead, I drift, my thoughts in a fog, my body thick and unresponsive from the drugs. I feel tossed around, like a cork on a stormy sea.
    No dreams fill my mind—no dark memories from the past, no terror that I will never wake again—and yet somehow that dark emptiness is even more disturbing than my usual nightmares simply because I can’t get my bearings.
    I am lost. Desolate. Alone.
    Then I feel the gentle brush of a hand on my cheek, and it is like a lifeline, pulling me back, drawing me out of the storm.
    A smile tugs at my lips—
Dallas
.
    But then it fades as I remember that I sent him away. That I’m not ready to have him beside me. Not now. Not yet.
    The hand I feel must belong to my mother. I open my eyes to reassure her that I’m okay, then jump when I see who is really touching me.
    “Adele!” I jerk back, then push myself up to a sitting position, completely ignoring the buttons on this bed that would do that for me. “I—you startled me.”
    My family has been doing everything possible to ensure my privacy, including leaving me listed as a Jane Doe. My mom’s even asked my best friend, Brody, not to come visit—though she did at least let him know what happened to me—because she’s afraid some enterprising reporter will follow him to find me.
    “I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I’m just really jumpy.”
    “Of course you are,” she coos. “You poor little thing.” She presses a hand to my cheek, and a single