Secret Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 5) by Marysol James

never allowed visitors, and she cut off all contact with her family. I knew to never say a word at school, no matter what was going on.”
    “Why didn’t you?”
    “I didn’t want to be taken away from her, I guess, but also, I didn’t really understand how bad it was. I mean, I didn’t know any different, Curtis. It was terrible, but it was normal.”
    He thought about his own childhood home, and he knew exactly what she was talking about. Reluctantly, he nodded.
    “So.” She exhaled, hard. “I got really, really good at seeing when an extreme situation – either a high or a low – was coming, you know? It’s hard to explain, but I’d know long before it began that it was imminent. It’d look like nothing to someone just casually observing, but for me, it was like… distant thunder or how dogs know that a storm is coming. Mom would just send out these… vibrations, I guess, and I picked up on them long before anything had happened.”
    Again, Curtis knew what she was talking about. He and his Mom had both known that his Dad was going to get violent long, long before the man had even raised his voice. It was exactly like Tessa said: it was like silent, invisible vibrations on the air. It was unseeable and untouchable – but it was fucking real.
    As real as a black eye and a shattered jaw. As fucking real as a casket.
    He shook off his anger, and listened to Tessa.
    “When I sensed one of her breakdowns or manic episodes was coming, I’d distract her.”
    “How?” he said.
    Tessa gave him a sad little smile. “I danced.”
    “Oh, Tessa.” His heart twisted at the thought of Tessa as a child handling all this shit in such a sweet, earnest way. “Oh, God.”
    “When she was on an upswing, she’d dance with me. When she was down, it made her smile sometimes. It seemed to help.”
    He shook his head, furious and sad for her. No, her mother had never beaten the crap out of her, but then again, Tessa had been all alone. At least Curtis had had his Mom to hold on to through all the hell – until his Dad had killed her, of course.
    “But this one day…” Tessa held his hand harder. “This one day, I missed it. I had a ballet recital at school, and I was so damn excited about it. I was totally distracted, not tuned in at all. She was spinning down, and I was running late and I just – I just left. I left her.”
    “What happened?”
    She stared at the table.
    “Tessa?” Curtis touched her face. “Baby, what happened?”
    “She killed herself,” Tessa whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “I came home from the recital, and found her dead in bed from an overdose. I was eight years old.”
    “ Goddammit .” Curtis hauled her in to his arms, not caring who was watching. “Tessa, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
    She wept softly, her face buried in his chest. Curtis clutched her as close as he could, shielding her from the rest of the room with his broad back. He just held her as she fell apart, just held on as she let go. He’d be there to put her back together when she realized that she’d broken in to million pieces, when she just shattered with grief.
    Tessa had no idea how much time had passed, but she knew it had been a while. Embarrassed now, horrified to have lost control and made yet another scene in public, she tried to draw back, but he didn’t let her. Those strong arms tightened, those huge hands gripped her head, forcing her to meet his hard gaze.
    “Talk to me, baby.” It came out harsher than he intended, and he softened a bit. “You doing OK?”
    She nodded, wiped her face with the back of her hand.
    “Nuh-uh, Tessa. You talk to me. You alright?”
    “Yes.”
    He examined her face, and knew she was lying. But she was pulling herself together now, and he loosened his iron grip around her body but still held on to her. She sighed, and absently ran her hands up and down his arms as she kept talking.
    “My father was nowhere to be found, so I was given to my maternal