Lethe Vita

Chapter 16

She didn't think a time existed where she had not been underpinned by a degree of terror.

Perhaps a time had existed, though it had to have been before her eighth birthday.

By her ninth, Valerie had become petrified of her father.

It had begun with Victor's depression, which, left untreated, led to his downward spiral.

In the years to follow, Victor would decide that rather than turn to doctors, he would turn to psychedelics. As he explored psychedelics, he explored his oldest daughter.

His hands had become vices upon Valerie's skin.

Her nightmares about the ordeal her father had put her through over the years had gradually subsided, rose again after Victor's murder masqueraded as a suicide, subsided a second time, and reemerged.

Every time Val thought she was rid of her terror, it came back to chow down on her as if she were a piece of Crab Rangoon.

Her terrors had become worse than ever before after David's suggestion that Abby Malone had been the one to kill Victor.

Val didn't know if she wanted David to be wrong, or if she wanted him to be right. If he was right, Abby had lied, but she had done that regardless. If David was right, Abby would have allowed Val to take the fall for Abby's actions.

Val didn't put it past her mother.

She wanted to tell Brandon. She wanted to tell Brenda; hell, she even contemplated telling Dylan.

She couldn't, not with everything Brenda had been going through.

Kelly knew. Valerie had no intention of talking to Kelly about any of it, but if Kelly knew, then Val figured she ought to tell at least one other person.

Not Steve. Steve would blab to Brandon.

Not Andrea. Not Clare. Had to be someone outside of the circle, or it would get back around to the twins.

Clare found out anyway, when Val opened her drunken mouth to tell a random stranger in the form of Kai's friend and neglected to check the proximity of Clare to their booth.

"Who all knows about this?" asked Clare after she managed to pry her mouth closed.

"You. Him," Valerie pointed at Kai's friend, whose name she had already forgotten. "David. And oh yeah, dearest Kelly also knows."

"You told Kelly?" asked Clare.

"As if I would tell Kel anything," said Valerie. "Puh-lease. We can thank my greatest love for that." She picked up her glass of vodka and swirled it. "Or are you my greatest love?" she asked the vodka.

"Valerie, you've got to stop hitting the hard stuff." Clare removed the glass from Val's hand. "There's got to be a better way for you to deal with this."

"You mean, go to therapy like Dyl? Stand up and announce I have an addiction just 'cause I like to get drunk every now and then? Go to a support group for women whose fathers saw them as sex objects? Is it my fault, Clare? Is it my fault for being born pretty? Would Daddy have left me alone if I weren't so goddamn desirable?"

"I'm going to call someone for you," said Clare. "Who should I call? Brandon? David? Dylan?"

"David's not around," said Val. "He went to New York for the week."

"Why is David in New York?" asked Clare.

"He's digging." Valerie took her drink back from Clare, splashing it around as she took a large gulp. "He's convinced that I'm not a coldblooded killer. And he probably won't be with me if he turns out to be wrong."