He was. I hated Renzo Iannelli for what he did, and even more now for tainting the memory of my brother, but I hated myself too. I made Noah feel like he wasn’t doing enough. He gave up everything for me, and still it wasn’t enough. It didn’t matter that I’d been young and immature. If I hadn’t…if I’d tried to be more understanding…if I hadn’t been so self-centered…if I’d only just opened my eyes, then maybe he’d stillbe alive.
I slumped into the desk chair. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t even see his face anymore through the blurriness of tears.I’m so sorry, Noah. I didn’t know.I was nothing but a foolish, stupid girl, exactly what Marlene liked to call me. What had I done? He’d always come back home so tired. His eyes were dark with exhaustion toward the end. How hadn’t I realized what it meant? How hadn’t I seen how miserable he’d been behind all the smiles he gave me?
My phone buzzed once more.
You’re a stubborn little thing.
I could practically hear the contempt in his voice and picture his almost emotionless sneer.
“Anzy? Are you home? You’ve got to help.”
The door squeaked open following Lou’s quivering little voice. I quickly shoved the phone down my pants and underwear, then wiped vigorously at my leaky eyes.
“Anzy, Boyan needs you. Please. Come now.”
“Give me a second. I’ll be right there.”
I knew she wouldn’t leave, but I didn’t want her to see my tears.
Two minutes later, with her whole hand wrapped around two of my fingers, she dragged me down the hall past the bathroom to Micah and Boyan’s shared bedroom. Lou tugged me inside without knocking.
Micah leaned his butt against his desk, arms crossed, lips pursed in irritation or disgust, which one I couldn’t tell. At the sight of us, he rolled his eyes and tossed up his arms. I didn’t focus on him, not with the small sobs coming from Boyan’s bed. I ran to Boyan’s side, pulling his little body into my lap. Or attempting to, because the way he flinched and cried out before wrapping his little arms around me made him collapse awkwardly.
“It hurts,” he cried into my abdomen.
“Where, chipmunk? Where does it hurt?” I caressed his hair.
“My shoulder.”
He whimpered as I slipped his shirt over his head. My fingers gently brushed over the large red welt between his left shoulder and collarbone. Even that little touch pitched his sobs higher as he buried his face in my clothing.
“What happened?”
“Fell against the bedpost,” Micah stated apathetically.
I bristled. “Seriously? He fell? That’s what you’re going with?” This looked like a belt whipping. Boyan nestled himself closer around me until every part of his front was touching some part of me.
“Not my goddamn fucking beef.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I’m not taking no shitty fall for you,” Micah spat. “I told them exactly what they needed to know.”
I looked over Boyan’s body, ignoring Micah’s mouthy, colorful language that he’d acquired both from Charlie and the gang he hung out with after school. Aside from that large belt welt, there were two other smaller ones across his right side. Those seemed to be the only three strikes that left marks.
“It was Charlie,” Lou sobbed. “Marlene said you were nothing but a thief and a no-good nobody and that nobody loved you. Boyan got mad and hit him. A lot. But Charlie hit worse.”
Bile crept up my throat. I couldn’t even look at Micah. “You should have stepped in.”
No one deserved this, but especially not Boyan. My sweet, adorable chipmunk with a heart of gold.
“And what? Take a beating five times as hard? Yeah, no thanks. Kid needs to toughen up. This is nothing.”
I bit down on my lower lip to stop it from quivering. This was already too much. No kid should ever have to deal with this. Iused to hear about child abuse in movies or TV shows. I knew it happened. I understood what the words meant, but it always seemed fictitious. What kind of parents hurt their own kids? What kind of people hit innocent children? It used to sound far-fetched, even absurd, when my parents barely ever spanked me. That was before.
Now I knew better. Most people took advantage of others any way they could. They were selfish. They degraded those they saw as inferior because it somehow made them feel better about themselves. They hurt them to feed their need to feel superior. And even if they weren’t the ones causing the pain and suffering, they looked away and ignored what they didn’t want to know.
“Chip, I need you to try and move your arm.”
