Gritting my teeth against the screams rising inside of me, I kept driving.
By the time I made it to Luca’s, I could no longer contain them, and I raged at things and people no one could see but me. I tore down the long drive, swerving to the left when I reached the turnoff. When I saw the small house I lived in illuminated by the headlights, I started to tremble violently.
Almost there.
I don’t remember parking the SUV or getting out of it. I only realized where I was when my shaking hands unlocked the door to the back bedroom and I saw the iron bars of the cell inside. Stumbling across the room, I threw myself into the cage and pulled the door shut with a loud clang. Then I locked myself inside and gripped the key so tight in my fist it cut into the skin of my palm.
Stumbling backward, I hit the wall as sweat stung my eyes. I struggled to get enough air as the phantom pain of a whip tearing into my back set my skin on fire and angry voices ricocheted through my aching head. My legs gave out, and I sank to the floor, fighting for every breath.
Safe.
I was safe.
No one could get to me in here.
I reached blindly for the blanket beside me and wrapped it around my head and shoulders, my muscles twitching with remembered pain and shame, then laid down on the hard floor, waiting for my heart to slow and the shaking to stop. Itwouldstop. Eventually.
I just had to hang on. Nothing could touch me in here. The voices berating me weren’t real. The fists hitting me weren’t really there. I wouldn’t wake up bruised and bloody.
He wouldn’t come for me.
I was safe in my cell.
CHAPTER 3
Luna
Twelve Years Ago
“Idon’t like this place, Luni.”
I stopped unpacking his suitcase and looked over at my little brother, Logan. He was only ten years old and already almost as tall as I was at fourteen. “It’ll be okay, Logi.” I grinned when he scowled at me for making fun of the nickname he’d used for me ever since he started talking. Back when our mom was still alive.
He’d always been a scowly kid, though. Grumbly by nature. But his grouchiness with me never lasted long, and this instance proved no different from any other.
Looking around the large bedroom he’d been given at the opposite end of the hall from mine, his eyes filled with tears. “I want to be in the same room as you.”
“Hey.” I dropped the clothes I was holding and crossed the floor to pull him into a hug. “It’ll be okay. We’re still together, and that’s what matters. Plus, I’m right down the hall.” This was our third foster home since our mom was killed almost five years ago. The people who took us in weren’t always the best kind of people, but we could deal with just about anything if it meant the system didn’t split us up. I kept one arm around his skinny shoulders and squeezed. “Besides, you’re getting way too big to share my girly room. You’re gonna need your own space. What if you meet a girl you like and want to invite her over?”
He immediately made a face. “Eww. No. You’re the only girl I like, Luni.”
I took a step back and brushed his soft, dark hair off his forehead with my free hand. “We’re gonna be okay here. You’ll see. Mr. And Mrs. Phillips seem like decent people.”
Logan wasn’t convinced. And honestly, I wasn’t either. Mr. Phillips wasn’t a big man, only about five foot eight, with a paunchy gut he covered with dress shirts and fancy ties, but I could immediately tell he was the one in charge of this household. That wasn’t what had me on guard, though. The weirdest thing was how his smile never reached his eyes when he talked to us. And he was the only one who ever did the talking, while his much larger wife stood behind him and said nothing, if she was even in the room at all.
With a resigned sigh, Logan walked over to his suitcase and started helping me unpack his things. After a moment, I followed him.
It would be okay. Everything would be okay.
I would make sure of it.
Eleven Years Ago
“So, can I go?”
Mr. Phillips chewed the peas he’d just shoveled into his mouth and looked down the table to where my now eleven-year-old brother was bouncing in his seat beside me, his fork paused halfway to his mouth in his excitement. Then Mr. Phillips’ eyes shifted over to me. “Well, I don’t know, buddy. What do you think, Luna? Can we let him go to summer camp and live without him for a week? It’s not cheap, but I think we can swing the cost if you think he should go.”
My stomach tightened, threatening to evacuate the meatloaf and potatoes I’d just eaten. This was the game we played, and I’d learned the rules within the first few months of living here. If Logan or I needed anything, Mr. Phillips was happy to get it for us—for a price. And that price was paid by me.
