“Mom—”
“No! There will be no more talk of this. At all. There’s a special place in Hell for those who spread gossip and lies.”
Too late. I’m already there.
She leaves the kitchen. I spread my palms on the table and let my head droop until it lies on my hands. What was I expecting? Did I think she would be in my corner, championing my story? Did I really think she would whisk me away after she slapped Ted in the face and called the police?
I should’ve known better.
I stand, looking down at the newspaper spread open on the table. It devastates me that she didn’t believe me, but it also makes me mad. Very, very mad.
With a sweep of my hand, I push the newspaper off the table and watch the pages fall to the ground. One section lands on her chair.
“Bitch,” I mutter. I go upstairs, take a shower after triple-checking the lock, and hope all the soap I’m using can wash off the memories of last night.
* * *
My phone dings with a text.I roll over, glancing at my locked bedroom door before I grab my phone from my nightstand.
Brady: We’re out front. Can we come in?
I type out a response.Meet me at the side gate.
Rolling off the bed, I stand and push the hair back from my eyes. I wasn’t all the way asleep, but I was close. Naps aren’t my thing, but after last night, I could use one.
I unlock my bedroom door and creep downstairs. I’ve been hiding in my room since my mom stormed away from the table. That was about four hours ago. From the bottom stair, I peer around, taking in as much of the house as I can. Mostly I’m looking for Ted, but a run-in with my mother isn’t high on the list of things I’d like to do.
When I don’t see anybody, I leave the relative safety of my spot and speed through the living room, stopping to peek into the kitchen.
Nobody’s there either. Not that I mind, but what is going on? Ted never stays in bed all day. He always mows the lawn on Saturday mornings, and in the afternoons he parks it at the kitchen table with his old, wheezing laptop and works on his sermon for the next day.
The stillness of the house is eerie. My footsteps on the tile floor are the only sound.
I close the back door quietly and walk around the side until I reach the gate. Two weeks ago Ted painted the wooden slats of the gate a dark, chocolate brown. During his project, my mother made him a sandwich and asked me to take it out to him. He smiled the proper amount when I handed it to him, his fingers not touching mine when he took the plate. We chatted for a minute about how dry the wood was, how quickly it soaked up the first coat of paint. Everything was normal. Appropriate.
Who the hell was the person who came to my room last night?
In the space between the slats of wood, I see Finn and Brady. They could’ve reached over and flipped the lock on top, but there’s a second lock on the bottom. Nudging it out of the way with my foot, I push the top lock and open the gate.
Brady and Finn stand there, the sun shining on their backs, their faces showing the same expression.Anger.
“Come on.” I step back from the open gate. They walk inside and the gate falls closed. “What’s up?”
Brady grabs my hand, squeezing tightly. “Are you okay?” His gaze is urgent, his concern pressing into me.
“We’ve been worried about you. I wanted to call, but”—Finn glances at Brady—“he said to give you some time. With your mom.”
I look behind me at the house. Their bedroom is just beyond this wall. Unless they left the house while I was locked in my room, I assume they are both in there. At this moment, Ted is probably less than five feet away from me. If there wasn’t a wall here, what would I do to him?
“I want to kill him,” I blurt out. My voice is low, but the words are so big, the intent so salacious, that I might as well be shouting.
“So do I,” Finn says.
“Me too,” Brady adds.
“How would you do it?” The question is mine, but it doesn’t feel like it comes from me. It’s coming from a different person. A person who almost lost her virginity in an act of violence. A person filled with hate and fear and revulsion.
Finn’s eyebrows draw together. He looks worried. Perplexed. Surprised.
