Disclaimer: I'm still waiting to get the papers stating that I own Big Time Rush. So, clearly I don't.

Guest#1: I'm sorry for taking so long to update! This chapter doesn't answer your question, but it will get answered within the next couple of chapters :) Thank you for taking the time to read and review! I really appreciate it.

knylonMaslow: Haha good to know! Thank you for taking the time to read and review! It's always much appreciated :)

Guest#2: That's really good to hear :) I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter and the Jatie scene. Thank you for taking the time to read and review, I really appreciate it :)

Rusher24Seven: I'm so sorry for the wait! But thank you for taking the time to read and review, it is so appreciated :)

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE WHO HAS READ, FAVORITED, FOLLOWED, AND REVIEWED THIS STORY! The alerts and the reviews always mean so much to me :)

A/N: I am so, so sorry for the long wait! It wasn't intentional, I promise! This was a chapter I wasn't really looking forward to write. Not because it's a bad one, but because it's another heavy and emotional one. You guys might understand why once you read this chapter, assuming you're still reading this story. A little bit of this chapter was actually typed up ages ago. It was originally part of the chapter where James tells Katie about his stepmom, but I ended up taking it out because it just didn't fit in. I rewrote a lot of it, changed their reactions (because yay, character development!), and now it makes up about a quarter of this chapter.

On another note, as of right now there are two more actual chapters after this one, and the epilogue, so we're definitely coming to an end. Hopefully the rest of the story will be updated relatively quickly :)

Warnings: Language, sexual innuendos, and slightly graphic mentions of abuse.

Enjoy the chapter :)

Chapter Eighteen – Pillow Talk Confessions

Katie's POV

Moonlight was streaming through the blinds as I sleepily opened my eyes. I was lying in James' bed beside him, his arms wrapped around me and holding me close.

I smiled, closing my eyes again as I snuggled back into him, feeling safe and secure and just…loved.

The sheets were smooth and cool against my bare skin, his arms hard and muscular around my tiny frame. The moment was completely, totally perfect, and I wouldn't want to change it for the world.

My mouth and cheek still throbbed, but I couldn't even begin to care about that.

The whole night had been amazing. I had heard horror stories about girls' first times, about the pain and awkwardness. And while there had definitely been some pain in the beginning, once James had gotten me to relax it had faded away.

I shifted again, waking up a little more as the moonlight managed to hit me directly in the face.

Okay, rude.

I felt James move behind me, pulling back so that he could roll over onto his back. I turned over as well, and he smiled sleepily at me, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"Hey," he murmured, letting his hand drop and stretching out.

"Hey," I murmured back, leaning over to kiss him. He kissed me back, hand coming up to cup the back of my neck and push me slightly closer. After a long moment I pulled back, smiling again.

"So, how do you feel about tonight?" he asked me, pulling me down beside him.

"Mmm…Pretty good."

"No regrets yet?" he asked, brushing his lips over mine and I giggled.

"Nope. And I don't think they're going to come."

"I hope not."

"They won't," I said firmly, draping a leg over his. "Tonight was perfect in a really unperfect way, and it was what I needed. I'm starting to think you can't have perfection and happiness at the same time."

"I think it depends on the type of perfection," he said reflectively. "I think if it's fake, contrived, then there's no way in hell you can be happy. But if everything just comes together naturally, then yeah, that's real happiness."

I smiled a little. "Like us."

"Exactly like us." He reached over to peck my lips, just as his dorm room door swung open. "What the – "

There was a familiar laugh and then the screech of, "Carlos! Not until we're in the room!"

I sat straight up. "Logan?!"

James reached over, fumbling in the dark. A moment later, his bedside lamp turned on, illuminating the room – and Logan and Carlos, who were standing in the doorway in a tight embrace.

I clapped my hand over my mouth as James gaped at them.

"I'm still asleep, aren't I? I'm still asleep and this is all a dream," he said, shaking his head. "Because there is no way in hell this is happening."

I could see Carlos jumping on his chance. "Yep! You're still asleep and this is just a dream. And then I guess that means you're also having a wet dream because Katie's in bed next to you."

"Oh, okay," James said, closing his eyes.

I reached down under the covers and cupped him, squeezing just enough to elicit a reaction out of him.

"Hey!" he yelped, fumbling to sit up again. "Okay, I'm definitely not asleep."

I smirked at Carlos. "Nice try, dude."

"Damn it," he swore, while Logan just stared at me.

"What?"

"Why are you in bed with James and groping him and – oh my God, there are clothes on the floor! Your clothes!"

Carlos' jaw dropped. "Holy shit. Did you two – nah, couldn't happen – it wouldn't – "

"Sure…" I said, blushing slightly and glancing away.

"Not at all…" James added, looking determinedly up at the ceiling.

"They did!" Logan cried. "They slept together!"

Carlos stepped forward eagerly. "How was it? The best you ever had?" he asked James, who nodded, face turning a bright red.

I wrapped the blankets tighter around my body as Logan raised his eyebrows. "What?" I whined, my blush darkening.

"You had sex with James?"

"Maybe…"

"What happened to your 'I'm going to wait until college or possibly even marriage' mantra?" Logan asked me.

I shrugged, scooting closer to James, who pressed his lips to the top of my head. "I changed my mind. I only said that when I was with Zach. But I'm not with him anymore – I'm with James. And I love him," I added simply, reaching up to peck James' lips.

"Wow, okay. What the hell did I miss in the few hours since I last saw you?" Logan wanted to know.

"You're one to talk," I pointed out. "You and Carlos came bursting in here looking like you were about to…I don't even know what."

It was Logan's turn to blush, but Carlos grinned. "Isn't he cute?"

"So cute," James said dryly. "Don't you two have some place else you can go?"

Carlos pouted. "Where? You and Katie are in here, and Kendall's probably in his and Logan's dorm room."

"Text him," James urged Logan. "See if he's there or not."

"Fine. Though I'm not sure I'm entirely leaving you alone with Katie."

"We've already had sex!" I cried. "What else can happen?"

Logan shrugged. "Don't get yourselves arrested." He shot a quick text to my brother, who replied within about thirty seconds. "Oh, check it out, he's with Jo. We can go back to my dorm," he said to Carlos.

"Do any of these dorms have rules about girls being in guys' rooms and vice versa?" James wanted to know.

"They do," I informed him. "It's just that no one listens, and security is lax enough that people can sneak in and out really easily. So expect me to show up here on a pretty regular basis."

He grinned. "I'm looking forward to it."

Logan and Carlos took their leave, closing the door behind them, and James struggled out from under the blankets, padding over so that he could lock the door back up. I watched him, biting on my bottom lip.

"You're staring at me," he commented, shooting a smirk at me over his shoulder.

"So what if I am? You going to punish me? Tell me what a dirty girl I am?" I sat up, smirking back at him.

"Don't tempt me," he said, locking the door and hurrying back over so that he could crawl back into bed with me. He draped his arm around me and I snuggled into him once more, letting out a sigh of content.

But as he reached over to switch off the lamp, his scars were once more illuminated, and one of the many questions I had had about him popped right back into my head. Only I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to it. And I wasn't sure anyone but him actually knew what it was. There had been hints, but he had never said outright what had actually happened to him. But it was still pretty obvious. I just didn't want it to be confirmed, because as long as the question was still up in the air, I could pretend that the abuse he had suffered hadn't been as bad as I knew it was. And if I didn't bring it up, I wouldn't have to think about it and James wouldn't have to talk about it. Besides, tonight wasn't the right time to ask him about his stepmother. We were finally together, and there wasn't much use in bringing any drama into the mix.

That didn't mean the question was going to go away.

As the darkness settled around us, I reached up to brush James' bangs out of his eyes, pressing a kiss to his chest. He ran his fingers through my hair before moving his hand up and down my back, massaging gently.

If I didn't bring it up, we could just continue on like this. James wouldn't have to relive what his stepmom had done to him, and I wouldn't have to listen with horror and disbelief. We could just stay like this for the rest of the night.

But he hadn't recovered from the trauma his stepmom had put him through. He may not have had to get drunk to sleep with me, but that didn't mean anything. She had put him through hell and he wasn't going to be able to deal with it on his own. And he wasn't alone anymore. He needed to know that, to understand that, to realize that he now had people surrounding him who loved him and would do anything for him. He hadn't had that in so long…I couldn't help but wonder if he had ever had that at all.

With a deep breath, I lifted my head. "James?"

"Hmm?" he traced down my spine with his thumb and I shivered despite the question I was about to ask him. God. I was really, really hoping he wouldn't hate me for it, for prying into his personal business and interrupting the little haven we had created for the night…for bringing up memories that he probably wished he could erase from his mind.

"Can I ask you something? It's really personal…I don't know if you're going to want to answer it."

"What is it?" he asked, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard.

"What exactly did your stepmom do? I know it's a really morbid question and I kind of don't want to know, but on the other hand you can't deal with it and recover from what she did if you don't talk about it. Those kinds of things, being abused, that can really mess people up. And it's not your fault," I added fervently when James turned his head so that he was looking away from me. "What she did – you had no control over it."

"You said yourself that you don't want to know."

"I don't, but I think I'm going to need to know if we're going to be together. You know about my dad. Tell me about your stepmom."

"What exactly is this? I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" he demanded.

"No." I rubbed his shoulder, trying to get him to relax. "Just…you don't have to answer it, not tonight. I shouldn't have asked. I'm sorry."

"No…" He ran his hand over his face. "No, it's – it's okay. It's just…I've never talked about it with anyone. I've never wanted to."

"You could get therapy – "

"I don't want therapy. Fuck it, Katie! I'm not broken!"

I pushed him onto his back, straddling him and cupping his face in my hands. "I never said you were. But you are – " I paused, trying to find the right word.

"What?" he scoffed. "Damaged? Smashed? Shattered? Torn to pieces?"

"Fixable," I settled on. "You're fixable. You're recovering. She tore you down and now you're trying to rebuild your life. But whatever she did emotionally scarred you, and you can't get past that until you open up and are actually honest with yourself."

"Oh, goody. So I get to do all that touchy-feely crap?"

"You don't have to do anything. But you should let someone help you. Even if it's just me. Even if it's just Carlos."

"I told Carlos that she abused me. Isn't that enough?"

"Do you honestly think it is?"

"Katie – "

"You've been keeping this secret for so long. It's kept you from opening up and trusting people. It's made you jaded."

"Carlos doesn't think I'm the way I was when I was younger," he said quietly. "And he's right. I'm not."

"So tell me what happened. Hell, if you want we can go to the school guidance counselor tomorrow and see what she suggests."

"No. I'll – I'll tell you. But no one else. No one else can know."

Figuring that it at least resembled progress, I nodded in agreement. "Okay. You don't have to tell anyone else if you don't want to." I crawled off of him and rested my head on his chest. "Whenever you're ready, James."

He sighed. "Fuck. I – I can't believe I'm going to do this. Where the hell am I even supposed to begin?"

"The beginning's always good," I suggested. "Why don't you start there?"

"Okay. Um…I must have been about eleven or so when I met Kimberly, my stepmom, for the first time. She was pretty and nice and she smelled good. She was really sweet to me, always ganging up on my dad with me whenever he would tease me. But she was – she was always finding excuses to touch me, whether it was just putting her hand on my shoulder, or helping me button up my shirt the right way, even when I was doing just fine." He sighed, pausing for a moment, before continuing on. "My dad met her, of all places, in the checkout line at one of the grocery stores. They got to talking and he asked her out. He and my mom had divorced about a year before, and while he had dated from time to time, Kimberly was the first woman he really got serious about. Besides my mom, I mean. I didn't know Kimberly well, I only saw her when I was spending time with my dad and that wasn't very often. I lived with my mom for the most part because it was just easier. When my parents had been married, they had spent so many nights screaming bloody murder at each other. I used to huddle under my blankets, holding my pillow over my ears to try to drown out the yelling. So when they divorced, in some ways it was kind of relief. I mean, I hated that they were splitting up, because parents are supposed to stay together forever. That's the way it's supposed to work. But it was also kind of nice, because they weren't fighting anymore. My dad let me live with my mom, and he took me every other weekend. It took him a couple of months before he introduced me to Kimberly after he started dating her. He introduced me to her on my eleventh birthday. Dad and I met up with her at a pizza place. I remember that she looked at me and gushed over how handsome I was and how tall I was already. I got kind of a weird vibe off of her, but I couldn't figure it out because she seemed so cool.

"My dad married her about a year after he met her, when I was twelve. That summer, my mom sent me to live with them because her cosmetics line was being expanded into Europe and she needed to be over there to supervise the expansion. Everything seemed okay at first. Kimberly was really friendly and wasn't really one for privacy, so I learned to lock my door. But it didn't really bother me. I mean, it kind of nagged at me, but I didn't give it too much thought. I just figured she was an open book, that that was just her. I asked my dad about it and that was what he told me. So I didn't think anything about it, didn't give it too much thought. And I'm not sure if it would have done any good if I had considered it, because what twelve year old would come up with the answer?" James let out a deep breath, raking his fingers through his hair, and I entwined my fingers with his, kissing the back of his hand reassuringly.

After a long pause, he began speaking again. "So, everything was going great, and then my dad had to go out of town for a couple of days for work. Nothing too worrying about that, right? But I was nervous about it. I figured it was just because I had never been alone with her, so I had no idea if we would get along without my dad there or if she would even try to spend any time with me or talk to me. I wasn't sure if I wanted that to happen or not, but I knew my dad wanted us to get along. So, you know, of course I was going to try. Well, either that, or just hole up in my room with video games and TV to keep me company. I figured it was a win-win situation either way, so it didn't really matter. But then she came into my room a few hours after my dad left, after dinner. She said she wanted to talk to me about some stuff that she was sure neither of my parents had brought up to me, but that she wanted to make sure that I knew that I could come to her no matter what. Somehow that set me on edge and I was a little antsy because something just didn't feel right, but I didn't ask her to get out. I wanted to know what she was talking about.

"When I asked, a little hesitantly, she answered with questions, wanting to know if I had any crushes, if I had kissed a girl yet, how puberty was going, that sort of thing. She even brought up wet dreams and surprise erections, and I quickly changed the subject, since there was no way in hell I wanted to talk to my stepmom about that. But she wouldn't let the topic go, and I finally demanded to know why she was asking me about that stuff. It wasn't any of her business, she wasn't one of my parents, she was just the woman my dad had married. And then she kissed me. My first kiss," he said bitterly, body tensing against mine. "And it was with my stepmom."

I reached up to stroke his hair reassuringly, to let him know that he was okay, that he was safe, that he was never going to have to go through that ever again. "You don't have to continue if you don't want to."

But he was clearly on a roll, because he kept on talking: "I pushed her away, yelling that she couldn't do that, and what the hell was she thinking?! She went all sweet on me. She stroked my hair, telling me that it was okay, that she was going to help me, teach me stuff, that it wasn't a big deal. I freaked out when she began unbuttoning my jeans, threatening to tell my dad. She threw her head back and laughed. Who do you think he's going to believe? she asked. Me or you? You get into trouble at school, you talk back, you're a little rebel. I'm his loving wife. He's never going to doubt me. I always wonder why I never managed to shove her off of me, why I couldn't get her to stop. Looking back on it, I realized it was because I was twelve years old and scared, with not much muscle. She was a little taller than me, and she worked out at the gym pretty often. It's no wonder she overpowered me."

"Oh my God…" I breathed out, stomach rolling in horror as the realization of what she had done crashed over me like a tidal wave.

"It continued on. Whenever my dad had to work late or stay overnight somewhere for his job, she would go to me. She told me to embrace it, that there were boys out there who would kill for a chance like this, a chance to learn these things, to get off with something other than their hands. I would have killed for the chance to never learn those things from her, to never feel her hand or her mouth around me, to never…never have to remember it. I sometimes considered telling my parents, but she was right. Neither of them would believe me. I mean, my mom might've, but she was in Europe, so what could she do?" He took another deep breath, inhaling sharply.

"It was a few days before my fourteenth birthday when she crossed the line. And I hated myself for it. I hated myself for reacting to her the way I did, for…for feeling pleasure with her, with what was happening." He spat the pleasure out like it was a filthy word, not meant for any civilized person to say. "She held it over my head, taunting me whenever she was with me. I hated her and I hated me and I hated the whole fucking world. I told a student guidance counselor what was happening in eighth grade because, you know, they're always saying that if you have any problems, you should go talk to a guidance counselor. Anyway, she told my dad, who made sure to punish me very thoroughly for lying. He beat the shit out of me, but it was still better than being molested by Kimberly. I thought maybe she'd back off, maybe she'd realize it just wasn't worth it. On the contrary, she got more daring, more brave. It became a daily occurrence. If it was just us, I would be trapped with her the entire time.

"And then I began attending Dalton Prep, and things seemed to brighten up. But…I was craving sex so bad. I hated it, because the only one I'd experienced it with was Kimberly, and that was…it wasn't right. But I was craving it, worse than anything else, and I almost immediately met a girl at a party who was willing to sleep with me. Being with her opened up this whole new world of possibilities. When I was sleeping with other girls, I wasn't thinking about Kimberly, remembering the way she had used me, the way she had treated me, the way she had taunted me and – and – everything she had done. Those girls wiped her clean from my mind, and I liked it that way. And then I began to get a reputation. Guys were pissed because these girls were willing to fuck me, but weren't willing to even go to second base with them. They called me a girlfriend stealer, a man whore, a player, any name they could come up with. And girls began to whisper about me. It didn't go unnoticed that I was sleeping with a new girl every single week, but I wasn't dating any of them. By the time you got to Dalton Prep, my reputation was an entity, a monster almost. It was so huge and I couldn't control it. And it was getting me girls, so I didn't want to. But then I would have to go back to my dad's house for the holidays, and Kimberly would be there. Naturally. I thought I'd be able to get it stop, because I was a good head taller than her, and had quite a bit of muscle on me by that point, but I was wrong. She was good at what she did, and I don't even know how. And it got worse last summer. I finally told her enough was enough, that I was done with this shit, that she couldn't control me like she used to, that I wasn't going to be her sex slave. I won't go into what happened. Let's just say it was enough to seriously fuck with my head. I tried so hard to get the memories to just go the fuck away, and they won't leave me alone. I fucking hate her.

"You're the only one who I even considered being more with. There was just something about you. I remember the first day I saw you, it was your first day at Dalton Prep. You were walking through the dining hall wearing your school uniform, your hair pulled up into a ponytail, and you looked so nervous and anxious. It was adorable. I wanted to approach you, but I didn't know how. And you glanced over at me curiously, like you knew who I was, what I had done, and I knew I couldn't talk to you. For some reason, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it if you judged me. I didn't even know you, but I didn't want you looking at me accusingly."

"I didn't know who you were," I spoke up. "You were just some really hot guy and I was curious about you. It wasn't until I asked a couple of people about you that I found out who you were. I heard the stories, I knew you slept around, but it always kind of bothered me that no one else seemed to think that there was anything else going on with you. It was like, you weren't just sleeping around for the hell of it. From what I saw of you, you were too nice for that, so it didn't make sense. I figured something else must have been going on, but I didn't know what and it wasn't any of my business – your decisions weren't my business when I didn't even know you. But I wanted to meet you. I would see you in the halls or in the courtyard or in the dining hall, and our eyes would lock. I was always so aware of you, and I didn't even know why. But I was curious about you, and when I got detention and saw you sitting there in the classroom, I saw an opportunity to actually meet you and I took it."

"Was it everything you had hoped and dreamed?" James asked sarcastically.

"It was real, and you were so different from anyone I hung out with. And I liked it. I wanted to spend more time with you. I wanted to understand what made you tick, what lay under the darkness and mystery. I'm just sorry that all that happened to you. And believe me, if she ever gets within ten feet of you again, I will kill her with my bare hands. I don't give a fuck what tricks she uses to get you into bed with her. If she touches you, she's dead. She's not hurting you, ever again. You're mine, and she's just going to have to accept that."

He let out a breath, deep and shaky, like it was uncertain. For a second I thought I had crossed a line, but then he was rolling me under him, pinning me to the mattress and kissing me forcefully. I responded eagerly, winding my arms around his neck to pull him closer.

After a moment, he pulled back, panting hard like he had just run a marathon.

"James…" I traced his cheekbone with my finger. "Have you ever thought about trying to get her arrested?"

"I – what?"

"Arrested. She raped you, or molested you, or did something, and even if you did want her to, you were underage when it began. You can turn her in to the cops."

"I would need proof," he pointed out. "And I don't have it."

I bit my lip. "Then why don't we get some?"

So yeah, this was a heavier chapter. The next one will be a little more action packed and not quite as heavy. Thank you for reading, and if you could take a couple of moments to review and let me know what you thought, I would really appreciate it :)