“That was the first. I was five or six, I think. She used the tip of the iron. Pressed too hard for too long.”
“Fuck…” he hisses.
“She got better at it. She also realised that there were better places to mark me. Less obvious places. And of course, other ways to hurt me, that would be more subtle. Plus, she didn’t always have time to wait for the iron to heat up,” I laugh humourlessly.
“Why?” he sounds so angry he can barely get his words out.
“That first one? I didn’t eat my vegetables quick enough for her liking. The second was for failing to say thank you when she got me a drink. The third was for crying too loudly when I fell over and hurt myself. That one was a doozy, because I actually needed stitches but she wouldn’t take me because she was scared of my other injuries being seen. Those three reasons stuck. Then it becomes a blur. I’m not sure she gave reasons after that.”
“Fuck,” is all he says. Then he reaches up and lifts his shirt to show me his back. It’s riddled with scars, though my eyes are immediately drawn to his Celtic knot tattoo. It’s the same as Kalen’s. I focus on his scars. Scars that are newer and fresher than mine.
“I was the family punching bag,” he tells me quietly. “She never laid a finger on her perfect Onyx. It’s why he always has his shirt off and I never do. Even in summer.”
“Why?” I whisper, tracing my fingers over the long cross-cross patterns that span his entire back.
“Do they ever need a reason, really?” He can’t see me but I shake my head. I have no words. Slate gets it.
I feel the tentative, uncertain bond between us strengthen and grow.
Suddenly, there’s a massive bang which makes me jump but Slate reaches out to calm me.
“Relax. It’s just Onyx. I suspect he may not have liked what he just overheard. He’s so damn angry at the world because he blames himself.”
“What for?”
“Failing to protect me. Being the favourite. Not standing up to her… it’s quite a long list.”
“Well, now you know how ‘bad’ things are between me and her. She’s dead to me. I was forced here and I’ll be gone as soon as I can. Aadi and Smalls are waiting on me.”
“Your brother is Aadi, and Smalls is…?”
“Yeah and Smalls is my everything, my ride or die, my person.”
“So your boyfriend?” he asks.
“No, what we have is more than that, but we owe it to my dad’s girlfriend Chelsea to respect her wishes that whilst we live under her roof, we keep our relationship platonic.”
“This will sting a little,” he says, dabbling my cut with something.
“Son of a bitch,” I hiss. “That freaking hurt.” I jump up from the bed. “Well thanks for patching me up, but I have to get ready for your party.”
“You’re coming?” Slate asks, with wide eyes. I nod.
“Though, I’m sure I won’t be getting lucky with this big ass bandaid on my chin.”
“Plaster.”
“Sorry?”
“We call them plasters over here. And you should be okay to remove it in an hour or so. It’s better to let the air get to it anyway.”
“Oh wow, okay Dr Slate,” I tease. “When did you get to know so much about medicine?”
“Did you meet my brother? I’ve already spent a lifetime patching him up. I learnt quickly to disguise the worst of it, to minimise the impact it had on our parents.”
“Touché,” I laugh.
“I don’t think you should be going near anyone, anymore,” Onyx says as he re-enters the room. I leap out of my skin and swear loudly.
