But the reality was, he couldn't cope with being a monster.
My attention drew back to Nessie, her little voice interrupting as she stared at me with a chocolate moustache. She placed my drink down, the glass clanking against the strong table. She pushed it toward me, stretching on her tippy toes to get it close. “Your milk.”
She traveled the perimeter of the table, staying out of my father’s way as she nested on my other side. The strain challenged me as my arm wrapped around her, and I held her close.
“Anyways, I have things to do. Keep an eye on your sister; your mother will be down in a second.” My father gave my shoulder another squeeze, before moving to the back door and shoving his sweaty feet into dirty work boots.
The key to the back door twisted in the lock, and he stepped outside.
I could see him through the door’s glass—my father—squinting his eyes as he tried to dial suspicious calls. The kind that often had his dodgy friends stopping by.
He pulled an axe from a tree stump and moved out of my sight, his cell wedged between his ear and shoulder. What was left of the strong-scented cigar, still in his mouth.
Nessie's eyes were on me when I looked back, still full of fear and wide. She could still hear my father, and he brought out those emotions in her.
And she pulled the memories from me.
I saw us in the shed. . . I saw me on the ground, finding the strength from somewhere to get to her as he put his hands around her tiny throat.
I blinked, and she did, too, a tear falling from her big doe eyes.
I opened my mouth to talk, but it was her voice that whispered into the air first as she cupped my ear to keep the conversation just between us.
“Woodrow, how do I reach Hell?” Nessie was no longer afraid of saying his name. “Daddy is the devil, and only Hell can trap him.”
I didn't have a clue what she meant, or what else he might have done to her while I wasn't present, but I was glad to see there were no bruisesaround her neck.
“He comes to save me when I'm hurt. Ness,—”
“Will he save me too?” I didn't think about my answer. I knew despite her fear, Hell would never hurt her. He never had. Everyone else, never her.
I blinked twice, thinking if she was ever hurt, and I wasn't around, Hell would protect her. I'd put in that request as soon as I got back to my diary. The diary I couldn't wait to fucking read, because apparently, I had lots to catch up on.
I turned in my chair. Nessie just stared at me with a somber expression painted on her sad face. “You missed my birthday. I’m eight now. A big girl. You missed it. You weren’t there.” Her words grew grave as the conversation came to a close. “No one came but Daddy’s friends.”
My lips were still dry, my mouth growing dryer, but I forgot the existence of my chocolate milk and licked them again. Fair to assume, that was a nervous fucking habit.
I wrapped my fingers around Nessie's dainty shoulder, keeping the touch firm but gentle. “Did they hurt you?”
“I don’t like them being here.” She didn’t want to say more. I wanted to push, but I couldn’t. I’d never felt Nessie so fragile. She enveloped me in love, squeezing me tight. “I love you, Woodrow, and Ireally didmiss you.”
“I love you, too, baby.” My fingers spread over her back, and I asked a flurry of questions, “Where is Jolie, Ness? What happened to her?”
“I don't know.” Her pain came out with her whisper, another tear, too. “I haven't seen her for months.”
“Months?” Fuck, how long had I been gone! My hands dropped, and I reared back, pacing around the room like it could help me in any way.
“Did they send her away?”
“No.”
“Did they. . .” I choked on the lump in my throat, and my legs gave way before I could ask, “Did he kill her?”
Was that why Nessie was afraidof our father?
Nessie moved in between my parted legs as I sat on the floor, a clammy hand on my thigh. Her glass of chocolate milk, was again, clutched in her other hand.
“She's still here.” Nessie's words stopped my world spinning. “I hear her crying sometimes. Woody said he hurt her, but he didn't mean it.”
