Faith is more than a neighbor. She’s my best friend. A sort of surrogate sister. My guy friends—Eric, Luke, and Anthony—know better than to give me crap for being close with a girl. Especially Luke, who’s had a crush on her since kindergarten. He thinks we’re too stupid to realize he’s half in love with her, but he couldn’t hide it if he tried.
“I’m fine,” I lie as if she can’t see I’m beat to hell. Or maybe she can. My wet, shoulder-length blonde hair is covering most of my face. Hiding much of the damage Emmett did to me.
My raggedy clothes conceal the rest.
Her worried brown eyes lock on my hand. On what I’m holding. “Yeah? Then why the knife?” Then she nails me with a glare. “You haven’t been hurting your—”
“No,” I hiss, as if I have any right to be offended by Faith’s assumption. “I…I did something bad, and now I need to find Jacob.”
Faith’s tenses at my confession. She slams her brows together and blinks the snow off her thick lashes. I can almost hear the questions screaming inside her head. “Jacob’s safe. I have him.” Her worried green eyes shift back to the kitchen knife, then to my battered fingers wrapped around its black handle. “What happened, Caleb Taylor?”
“Stop looking at me like I killed him. I didn’t, if that’s what you think.”
She knows whohimis.
“Thank God.” Faith’s shoulders sag with relief. Not becausehe’sstill alive. But murder? I might as well slide this knife across my throat because my life would be over. “That piece of shit isn’t worth you rotting in a jail cell for the rest of your life.” She grabs my hand and pulls me back the way I came. “Come on. Let’s get you inside before we both freeze to death.”
Not,let’s get you inside before the police come. Alice would never call the cops. Not with the drugs she has scattered around the house. And Emmett was already gone by the time I ran out to find Jacob. It’s as I told Faith. I didn’t kill the bastard—although he damn well deserves to die for the pain he’s caused us. I hurt him and made sure he understood I’m crazy enough to follow through on the threat to hurt him worse if he doesn’t stay gone.
I would have known Jacob was with Faith if I were thinking clearly. But, in the chaos, I bolted with no thought or destination. Just ran out of the house barefoot. And yeah, I was scared as well. Scared Emmett would jump out from behind a bush or something. Beat on me some more. Beat on me harder. Do some serious damage that would make it impossible for me to protect my little brother.
But Emmett’s gone.
Maybe Jacob and I can finally put ourselves back together. Piece by piece until we’re whole.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
I let Faith tug me along as we trudge toward her house. Everything hurts. From the top of my head, right down to the tips of my nearly frozen toes. I fought the fucker off with everything I had tonight, but it could have gone so wrong. I’m beaten and tired, and as we creep in through the back door of Faith’s house—real quiet, so we don’t wake her parents, I can’t control how badly I’m shaking.
She grabs an armful of towels as we sneak upstairs. There, in her cozy, pink bedroom, is Jacob. His battered body lay buried beneath her fluffy, white blanket. I don’t know how he withstood Emmett’s constant abuse, but somehow, he survived.
What Emmett did to him would have broken a grown man.
“Can we stay the night?” My whispered question barely dents the quiet.
Faith rolls her eyes and gives me a hip check. “You have to ask?” She pries the knife from my icy fingers. “What happened?”
Dripping water on the carpet, I walk to her bathroom with Faith in my wake. I growl out a curse when I look at myself in the mirror. Get sick when I see the swelling around my brown eyes and the cut down my bottom lip. I wipe the blood from under my nose, thankful Emmett didn’t break it. “I couldn’t take it anymore, Faith. It was enough.” I shift my gaze to her through the mirror, but I still want to vomit at my reflection. “You know?”
“I know.” Faith sets the knife on the sink and turns me away from my reflection. Forces me to face her. She cups my bruised cheeks in her soft hands. “It’s over.”
Christ, I love this girl. Not, like,lovelove. I love her in a way that I wish she were my blood. My sister for real. She brings something out in me no other person does, and when she smooths her hand over my wet hair, my breath hitches. Something inside me snaps, and I want to cry for the first time since the abuse began. Let it pour out of me. The pain and anger and hatred. But it’s stuck. Somewhere in my brain. In my heart. Locked in me, buried deep beneath rage.
I drop my forehead to Faith’s. Wrap my arms around her waist and hug her tight. Squeeze her until she’s fighting to breathe. Because I need an anchor to hold on to as the world spins around me.
“He’s never coming back.” My throat’s raw, the words confirming a reality without Emmett.
Faith strokes my soaked hair, and I’m shivering again. This time, it’s not because I’m cold. “You saved Jacob’s life.”
It wasn’t my responsibility. I shouldn’t have had to see…what I saw. Jacob shouldn’t have had to suffer what Emmitt forced upon him. And I for damn sure shouldn’t have had to stab a grown man to chase him out of our lives. Alice Taylor should have given us up for adoption to people who would have loved us. Cared for us. People who aren’t dirty, no-good crackheads who bring dirty, no-good pedophiles into our lives.
And here they come.
Once the first tear falls, more follow. Faith holds me as I shame myself, sobbing like a bitch in her arms, my body as torn apart as my mind. We crumble to the floor, me still in her arms. She cradles me, soothing me, whispering words to me I can’t hear past my misery. And by the time I’m finally able to pull myself together, I’m wrung out. Emotionally drained and absolutely mortified.
Faith leads me back to her bedroom, and I follow like a friggin’ zombie. She helps me out of my drenched and bloody clothes. Hands me a towel, and we dry off in silence. I crawl on the bed and get beneath the blanket, wearing nothing but my underwear. Jacob instinctively cuddles against me. He lays his skeletal arm across my chest, his fingers digging into my skin. Even in his sleep, he’s afraid.
