“What?” I get to my feet, though my legs are still unsteady. I stumble, and he notices.
“Sit down, Jackie,” he says, pointing to the armchair.
I obey because there’s no point in arguing. I feel like I’m about to faint.
“You know Lucifer was supposedly kidnapped when he was eleven, after he was already living with your family?”
“No.”
“He was playing in the street when some men took him. At least, that’s what he remembers.”
My eyes fill with tears, unwilling to believe what I’m hearing because the pieces are already starting to fit together. “Go on.”
“He was taken to a place with cages, like for animals. He was thrown in one and kept there for days, barely eating or drinking water. Two other teenagers were locked up with him. The three of them heard enough to understand they were in the hands of pedophiles. Lucifer, especially, figured it out quickly. His life had never been easy.
“They . . .” I can’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“No. He told me the guy looked at him like he wanted to hurt him but he never touched him because ‘virgin kids are worth more,’” he says with disgust, and my stomach turns too. “They were going to sell him, Jackie. Back then, Lucifer didn’t know about human trafficking. But he had lived long enough with his degenerate parents to understand there are perverts who want children. He’d already sent more than one of his parents’ friends—who’d tried to touch him—to the hospital.”
“My God.”
“Lucifer, like the other boys, managed to escape. He ran straight to your house, Jackie. To your parents’ arms. The only place in the world where he felt safe. Because no matter how tough he was, he was still just a child.”
I bury my face in my hands and cry for several minutes. Beau waits in silence until I calm down.
“When he was around twenty, he discovered what your father really did when he caught him about to sell a girl.”
At that, I rush to the bathroom and throw up.
Beau waits, and when I wash my face, he pours a glass of water and hands it to me.
“Go on.”
“You can guess the rest. Lucifer stopped him from selling the girl. During the ‘interrogation,’ your father ended up begging forgiveness for having tried to sell him once. I don’t know every detail of that ‘conversation,’ but I know the result. Lucifer killed him.”
“He didn’t know what my father had done in the past.”
“No. And your father told him he never thought about trying to sell him again because your mother truly loved Lucifer. There’s a reason I’m telling you this: he’s always loved you.”
“Love? He doesn’t love me.”
“He does. As much as I love my Amber. Maybe at first like a sister but later as a man. And it was always love. He just thought himself unworthy after what he did to your father. Think about everything you’ve built together. About the child you’re expecting. Consider it all carefully before making a decision about your future.”
“I need to see him.”
“He’s on his way. But the story isn’t over, Jackie. There’s much more you need to know about your family. What matters is that you understand that compared to your brother andyour father, Lucifer, the rejected and betrayed boy, is a fucking saint.”
I hear the bedroom door open, and I don’t move.
I see his shadow in the darkness, in the doorway, and I can’t stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks.
For hours, yesterday and today, I’ve wept the tears of a lifetime spent being told strong girls don’t cry.
I never want to think of that stupid advice again. I never want to think of my brother again.
After Beau left me alone, Amber came and stayed with me. We talked for a long time.
With Beau, I listened. With Amber, I spoke.
