“Haven’t you done enough?” His tortured whisper feels like hands around my throat, choking me.
When I still don’t respond, he stalks over to me and grabs my arms, shaking me.
“You destroyed my family, and you didn’t even say you were sorry. How dare you come back here and rip open wounds that have barely begun to heal?”
He pauses for a minute, his breathing coming out in rapid pants.
“Say something. Say anything. At least pretend to care for once in your goddamned life.”
But I don’t. And from the look of betrayal in his eyes, my silence is the final nail in my coffin.
He lets go of me, making me stumble back, my hip connecting painfully with the counter. He turns and storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him hard enough to make the windows shake.
I slide down the wall to the floor, draw my knees up to my chest, and wrap my arms tightly around them. My body is shaking so hard from the adrenaline and fear coursing through me that I don’t trust my legs to hold me up, let alone run away. That’s what I want, though, to open that door and run until my lungs collapse. Maybe I should crawl to my van and drive far from this awful place.
God, I wish I’d never come back. It’s moments like this that make me wish I were the one who died that night. I might have survived the crash, but it changed my life forever. I’m so fucking tired, I just want this part of my life to be done and over so I can sleep for an eternity.
The only thing that stops me is the knowledge that I’m the only one who knows what really happened. I’m the only person left alive who remembers, and someone should remember. Because if I’m gone, the truth gets buried with me. I guess I have enough blind hope in me that one day, someone will want to hear what happened that night.
I must doze off because when I open my eyes, I can see that it’s getting dark. I stand up slowly, using the wall for support,wincing at the soreness in my hip and my throbbing arms. I look around the room at the destruction that Banner has inflicted and feel any hope I had at salvaging this place shrivel up and die. I’m done. So fucking done. I stumble to the door and check through the window, relieved to find it quiet outside. I grab my things and hurry to the garage, where I climb into my van and head back to the hotel. It’s as I stand under the spray of the shower an hour later that everything hits me. I take in the bruising that has started to appear on my hip and the red marks on my arms from Banner’s hands and start to cry. Deep, painful sobs that make my chest hitch as I try to breathe through the pain. What is it with the Bannerman boys leaving their marks on my body? Branding my skin with their purple fingerprints as they pulverize my already fragile heart? I turn off the shower and dry off before crawling onto the bed naked, too tired to even find something to wear. I toss and turn for most of the night. When I do finally drift off, it’s to find myself plagued with nightmares and memories that play over and over on an unforgiving loop.
When the sun comes up, I’m woken to someone pounding at the door. I’m tempted to ignore it in favor of hiding in the bathroom, but whoever it is seems persistent as their knocking gets louder and louder.
Nobody knows I’m staying here, so it has to be housekeeping. I wrap the quilt around my body and stomp to the door, ready to tell them to go away, but a peek through the spyhole shows an agitated-looking Katy. The best thing I can do is ignore her and wait for her to leave. I watch as she places her hand against the wood and closes her eyes. Like she knows I’m not going to let her in, before a look of determination crosses her face. She starts knocking again with renewed vigor. Fuck, she is a stubborn little shit. With a growl, I yank the door open and scowl at her. She sticks her tongue out at me and smiles until she catches sight of something that has her gasping and covering her mouth with herhand. I follow her line of sight down to my arm and see the circle of fresh bruises that mar it. A glance at the other one reveals a similar story.
“What the hell? Who did this to you?” she yells, maneuvering me back into the hotel room. She walks me over to the bed before nudging me to sit. I tuck the blanket tightly around my body while she examines my arms.
“You can tell me, you know. I won’t say anything. Trust me, nobody can keep a secret like I can.”
I wouldn’t be so sure about that.
I let her fuss over me for a minute before slinking off to the bathroom to get dressed. If nothing else, I need to head back to the house and clean up the mess Banner caused last night. I slip on some old gray joggers, a tank top, and throw a zip-up jacket over the top. I brush my teeth and pull my hair up into a ponytail before slipping on my old Converse. I grab my keys and indicate for Katy to follow. Of course, instead of following me out, she grabs my hand and leads me to the small cafe attached to the hotel.
I snag the menu and hide behind it. It’s still early, so the cafe is quiet, but I’d rather not draw attention to myself.
When the waitress arrives, Katy orders coffee and pancakes. I hold up two fingers, indicating I want the same. I can feel Katy eyeballing me like she has a thousand questions she wants to ask, but she stays quiet until our food arrives, before she finally speaks.
“You’re not staying, are you?” She looks at me with her big sad blue eyes, and it makes her seem even younger than she is.
I shake my head no. Her shoulders slump, her golden hair falling forward as she dips her head. When she looks back up at me, I’m surprised to see her eyes are wet with unshed tears. I reach across the table and grab her hand and squeeze it.
“I hate them. And I hate it here. Take me with you,” she whispers as one lone tear slips through her defenses and makes a slow trek down her cheek. I stand and slide into the booth beside her and wrap my arms around her. Two hugs in two days, I’m breaking all the rules now. She sobs quietly into my chest, soaking my jacket. I wish there was something I could do to help her, but we both know I can’t take her with me, even if she does hate this place as much as I do.
I don’t doubt for a second that when she turns eighteen, she’ll be gone. Tempest might be a safe haven for some, but to others like myself, it’s merely a cage to escape from.
Chapter Six
BANNER
I slam the door open and storm into work, heading to my office, but Blake intercepts me. He takes one look at my face and ushers me into his office. I grit my teeth, not wanting to be around anyone right now. But Blake’s my boss, so I need to rein my shit in.
He points to one of the chairs opposite his desk. “Sit.”
I do, taking the glass of whiskey he offers me. I drink it back without protest, even though I hate the stuff. I wave the glass in front of me. “Another.”
He pours me another before putting the bottle back, letting me know he’s cutting me off. I bite back the curse on the tip of my tongue because he’s right to cut me off. I won’t find any answers at the bottom of a bottle.
“What happened?”
