“She has a family . A husband. Another kid. A dog. She has a whole life.”
I stepped closer, my chest aching for him.
“Cal…”
“I sat in my car and watched her pick up the mail,” Cal continued, furiously wiping at his eyes, but the tears kept coming. “She looked happy. She looked… normal. And I realized… she didn’t escape because she was scared. She left because she wanted a do over. She wanted a life that didn’t include the mistake she made with my dad.”
He choked on a sob, turning his face away again.
“She left me to rot,” Cal whispered. “She left me in that house withhimfor years so she could go play house with someone else. As far as I’m concerned? She’s just as bad as he is. Maybe worse. Because she knew what he was doing, and she left me there anyway.”
I closed the distance. I grabbed his shoulders and turned him toward me.
“She didn’t leave you because you were a mistake,” I said fiercely, forcing him to look at me. “She left because she was weak. That is on her. Not you.”
Cal looked at me, shaking his head, his eyes drowning. “I feel like I’m back there, Si. Every time the phone rings, I feel like I’m twelve years old and hiding in the closet waiting for the door to open.”
The storm outside had intensified. Thunder rattled the windowpanes.
We were sharing one of the king beds. Cal had passed out from sheer emotional exhaustion around midnight, but his sleep wasn’t peaceful.
He was tossing, his limbs jerking. He was muttering, sounds of distress caught in his throat.
“No,” he whimpered, high and thin. “Don’t. Please.”
I woke up instantly. “Cal.”
“I’m sorry,” Cal gasped in his sleep, curling into a tight ball, protecting his head with his arms. “I’ll be quiet. I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m sorry.”
The wordDaddyhit me like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t Deadlock. He wasn’t twenty-four. He was a terrified child, begging for mercy.
I reached out, shaking his shoulder. “Cal! Wake up!”
He woke up screaming.
He scrambled back against the headboard, chest heaving, eyes wide and unseeing in the dark. He was hyperventilating, clawing at the sheets, trying to get away from a ghost.
“He’s here,” Cal gasped, looking around the room frantically. “I heard him. He’s coming up the stairs.”
“He’s not here,” I said, moving to kneel on the mattress in front of him. “Cal, look at me.”
“He’s gonna find me,” Cal sobbed, pressing his hands over his ears, his eyes closed. “I didn’t do it. I didn’t mean to.”
“Cal!” I grabbed his wrists, gently pulling his hands away from his ears. “Look at me! It’s Silas! You’re in Seattle!”
Cal blinked, his eyes focusing on my face.
“Silas?”
“I’m right here,” I promised, my voice steady and low. “You’re safe. He is a thousand miles away. Nobody is coming up the stairs.”
Cal crumbled.
He collapsed forward into my chest, burying his face in my neck, sobbing. It was an ugly, raw sound, the sound of something breaking. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight, rocking him while the thunder shook the room.
It took twenty minutes for the shaking to stop.
Cal pulled back, wiping his face. He looked wrecked. His eyes were swollen, his lips bitten raw. He looked small.
