To blame yourself.
I know what she’s going through, and it crushes me that she’s been carrying it since she was eight.
She speaks again after a few silent moments pass between us.
“When I woke up, I was already in my new home. No one asked me anything, so I never came forward. I get panic attacks sometimes about that night. Some are worse than others. It starts off as a nightmare, and when I wake up, it’ll trigger an attack, but it hasn’t happened in a long time.”
The vulnerability on her face is a punch to the gut, and I silently curse myself for pushing her too hard too fast, but at the same time, I’m so damn proud of her for trusting me.
“Rudy was in the system for most of his childhood. A lot of bouncing around before he was ten.”
“I was with my foster father, Roger, until I was twelve. He put on a good front. To outsiders, he was nice and charming, but it was just an act to get a paycheck. He had a foster son, too. I thought it meant he’d be kind, but I don’t think he knew the meaning of the word.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Her body shudders. “Griff was barely a teenager when I moved in. But he was the one who took care of me. He read me stories, made sure I ate, and helped me with homework. Left Jelly Tots under my pillow. He always made sure I was okay.”
“Hell of a brother.”
“He was. At night, I’d hear yelling and screaming. I was too afraid to leave my room to go see what was happening.”
“You did exactly what you should have done, Erin. You took care of yourself. Griff wanted you to be safe.”
Her lip trembles, and when a sob wracks through her, it’s as though oxygen has been stolen from my body.
“I tried not to cause trouble so Griff wouldn’t get hurt. I helped around the house so he could take breaks, but he always ended up underneath Roger’s fists or boots. He had so many bruises.”
Anger spikes inside of me as my mind pictures a scared little Erin, doing everything possible to keep her brother safe.
“The last time it happened, Roger was drunk, and I thought he was going to kill Griff. He just kept hitting him and yelling,‘Stay down, Griffy! You’re a little turd. Why do you make me do this, Griffy?’I just reacted. I threw myself in front of Griff and…” She stops. Her hand trembles as she pulls her shirt up just enough to show me the scar near her belly button. It’s small but the story behind it is anything but.
Rage rips through me.
He hurt her.
My breath catches. I want to pull her into my arms, to take away the years of pain behind that mark, but I don’t. Not yet. She’s not ready for that.
“I remember hearing Griff’s voice telling me to hold on and the sound of a car horn beeping like it was right next to me, and then…nothing,” she says, her voice brittle and seconds frombreaking. “I woke up in the hospital. Alone. Griff was gone. No note. No goodbye. I knew why he left; Roger would have found a way to blame it on him. He was only seventeen, and if they believed Roger…”
Erin talking about Griff makes me think of my own brothers. The accident changed everything, and every day since, we’ve grown farther apart. Sometimes it feels like we’ll never find each other again. Forever lost in a maze with no hope of escaping.
I bring my focus back to Erin, who’s pulling at the tassels of the blanket across her lap.
“Please tell me you didn’t go back to him.”
“I ran away.”
“What?” I rear back, shaking my head. “You were only twelve.”
“I didn’t want to go back to him.”
“Where did you go?”
“Detroit. The day the hospital discharged me, Roger went to a store to buy a bottle. I snuck onto a bus without being seen. When the bus stopped in Detroit, I got off and just kept walking. I found a diner. I was so exhausted, I fell asleep in a booth.”
There’s a tremble in her voice as she carries on.
“I woke up to a drunk guy grabbing me. I screamed. Bella showed up. Tased him. She’d stopped for gas right next to the diner on the drive home from college. She caught her boyfriend cheating on her and was heading back to Huxley Bay. Saw the guy getting handsy and intervened.”
