The Third Wheel BxB (Old + new versions)

Chapter 9: Ghosts of the Past - Part 1

NB: New chapter based on a reader's idea  and another reader's input (many thanks to them)! It will be divided in two parts! Hope you'll like it :)

Trigger WARNING: trauma due to an attempted rape

Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win.
(Stephen King)

NATE'S POV

It had been three days since Kyle had last slept in our tent. He hadn't given us any explanations, he had just stopped coming at night - not that he spent any time with us at daytime, either.

Of course, I was very well aware as to why the Beta wouldn't sleep close to us anymore.

I am dirty.

That's the words Kyle had screamed at me, his big brown eyes shining with unshed tears. Those words were now engraved in my mind, just as the sight of my distressed mate.

I don't wanna be dirty.

I knew I should have said something, right at the very moment when those absurd words had escaped his perfect lips.

I don't wanna be dirty. I hate it!

What did you mean by that, Kyle? How could you use such a strong word against yourself and looked so convinced of its truth? That was just a dream. I have them all the time.

You're anything but dirty.

You're perfectly normal.

An yet...

Yet, why did you try to rape me, all those years ago?

You were my friend, and I trusted you.

The more I think about it, the less sense it makes.

Darren knew something bad had happened between the two of us in the last few days, and I could tell my mutism was slowly driving him mad.

It was a bit hypocritical of me not to tell Darren about it, as I was always the one trying to get him to talk and be more open with me. I was the one who told him that at some point we would have to face what happened with Kyle. That the three of us really needed to talk, together.

I had told Darren about the panick attacks and the nightmares following the rape attempt. I found talking about it easier and easier as time went by, although it obviously wasn't a nice topic of conversation.

Sometimes, I feared I would never be able to shake off the memory of that dreadful night, when I felt weak, unheard and unseen.

I had told Kyle not to touch me, but I hadn't been heard, like my refusal didn't matter.

Like I didn't matter.

Like I was nothing more than a disposable piece of meat without a voice nor a soul. A mere envelop made for sexual release.

I hadn't fought him at that time, not really, my body freezing and my mind going blank. I had let my former best friend pin my wrists above my head, until fortunately Darren had came back to the room, preventing Kyle to go any further.

It had taken me a long time to accept that my apathy had been a normal reaction to the attack, and that I wasn't the one to blame.

"Will you talk to me now?"

I looked down at my handsome mate, who was still laying next to me, his voice muffled by the pillow.

He looked tired.