She reaches out, her palm warm against my cheek. I lean into her touch, letting it quiet the growing panic of the past creeping up inside me. Her thumb traces the edge of my brow, soft and careful like she always has, and I suck in sharp breath.
“Have I ever told you how I got that scar?” I ask her, my voice barely steady as her thumb lingers over the small dent at the end of my brow.
“No.” She shakes her head slightly.
“I was fifteen…” I trail off, the memory dragging me under.
His stale beer breath hits my face as he backs me up against the kitchen table. Spit flies with every word, his voice slurred and mean. The red lines in his eyes look like lightning bolts tonight—sharp, jagged—and I wonder how much he’s had to drink. His round belly presses into me, trapping me in place. I turn my face away, biting back the words that burn at the back of my throat.
“Don’t you fucking look away from me when I’m talking to you!” he yells, his face turning redder with every passing second.
The taste of copper fills my mouth as I bite down on the inside of my cheek. Yelling back only makes it worse. Fighting back only gives him another excuse, another reason to take it out on Mom or Halle. I can’t let that happen. I just need to wait alittle longer. Save a little more. Keep my head down until I can get out of here and set up a new life for us all.
“Did you fucking hear me, boy?” His hand fists the front of my shirt, pulling me in close. So close, I can feel the rage rolling off him.
My eyes snap to his, and I nod. I know what’s coming next, but luck’s on my side tonight. Halle’s already asleep. I made sure of it before the bastard even realized we were home. Mom’s at work, and he’s too drunk to do any real damage. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“My dinner isn’t fucking cooked. My beer isn’t fucking cold. What good are you if you can’t follow simple instructions?” he spits, words slurring.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” I manage, my tongue heavy in my mouth. His breath is lingering now—stale beer, cigarettes, and bitterness—and it takes everything in me not to gag on the smell.
“Yeah, you fucking will be,” he snarls. “Maybe I’ll go get your sister, tell her she has to do your fucking jobs.”
The mention of Halle snaps something in me. Panic floods my veins before I realize I’m moving. My hands slam into his chest, shoving with everything I’ve got. Anger coils hot and fast, my vision tunneling until all I see is red. It all blurs. His eyes turn wide, teeth bared, and then I’m gone, sinking into that black place where I don’t feel, where the light turns off. The back of his hand connects with my cheek, the sudden crack splintering above the sound of the TV. My head jerks sideways, stars burning behind my eyes. Tears sting as I clutch my face at the same time he fists the back of my neck, yanking me forward. My feet catch. The world tilts. There’s a split-second thought to throw my hands out, but it’s gone before I can react. My temple collides with the corner of the counter. White-hot pain shoots through my skull, and a low groan rips from my throat as my hand flies to the side of my head.
“Look at what you’ve gone and done now,” he spits at me.
The smell of copper invades my nose. My fingers are wet and tacky. The low hum of the TV seems too far away, white dots swarm at the edges of my vision, and my stomach clenches. My pulse hammers, my muscles tighten. Every instinct screams to fight back. Instead, I shrink. I curl in on myself and whimper while inside of me simmers.One day, I’ll kill this bastard,I think, blind with heat. Not today. Not like this. I’m too small, too useless right now, and I won’t leave Halle here like this. Not yet. One day, though. One day.
“Clean this mess up and get out of my fucking sight!” Ray screams.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. If it’s too much, you don’t have to tell me now.” Madison’s soft voice pulls me from the haze of my past.
My breath drags rough through my lungs, the edges of the memory still suffocating me. The whiskey glass digs into my palm, my grip so tight that my knuckles scream. Bit by bit, the bar starts to come back into focus: the low light, the hum of the fridge, the way her hand hasn’t moved from my cheek. Taking in a deep breath, I force myself to meet her eyes.
The words come out rough: how I got the scar, what it felt like, the kind of helplessness that sits in your bones long after the bruises fade. My voice cracks when I tell her it wasn’t the first time Ray came at me. It wasn’t the first time I patched myself up and pretended it didn’t hurt. My leg bounces uncontrollably, and before I can get another word out, her hands are on my knees, pressing down, steadying me before I fall too far.
“That’s enough,” she says softly, sadness pooling in her eyes.
“There’s more,” I murmur, my throat tight. “But Madison,please know that I didn’t reach out because I was drowning in my past. I didn’t want to drag you under with me. I didn’t want you anywhere near that town. I didn’t want you near him. I had to face it alone. And I know if I’d told you everything, your stubborn, sexy ass would have followed me anyway.”
Her jaw tightens, her voice sharp. “You don’t know that. I could have still supported you from here. You could’ve still checked in with me.”
“Come on, Madi.” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “You’ve been in my corner since the day we met. You were there when I got the call about Mom, and every damn anniversary since, every letter I wrote to Halle. There’s no world where you wouldn’t have dropped everything for me.”
Something flickers behind her eyes, realization maybe, and I know in that moment, she gets it. She knows I’m right. I rest my hands over hers, giving them a gentle squeeze.
Her shoulders drop, a quiet surrender. “You’re right. I was so consumed by you that I would have dropped everything,” she admits.
“Was?” I arch a brow at her, teasing, even though the past tense makes my stomach twist.
“Okay,” she breathes, slipping her hands back and twisting them together. “Since we’re being honest with each other tonight, there’s something I need to say.”
“Don’t hold back,” I tell her.
“I understand what you were fighting now. And God, I wish you had just been more open with me.” Her voice trembles, but she keeps going. “The thing I’ve learned over the last six months is that you consumed every part of me. Everything I had was holding out and waiting for you, Hunter. And somewhere along the way, I became reliant on you. When you left, it nearly broke me. It was so hard, and Idon’t ever want to be that girl again. The one who only knows who she is because of a boy.”
Something in my chest fractures at her words, a dull burn pressing against my ribs. I never wanted to be the reason her light dimmed. Reaching across the small space between us, I take her hand, brushing my thumb along her skin. Her other hand lifts her glass, and she takes a long sip of her wine, her throat moving slowly as she swallows.
