by Jeny Heckman
Her thoughts turned to Finn, and the revulsion etched on his face. The harsh words and disappointment. He’d be on his way back to Kaua'i now, to Dee or maybe to his pretty little researcher, Holly. His life would no longer include her and she, in turn, would have to rediscover herself. In a daze, Raven stumbled into bed and thankfully slipped into the oblivion of sleep without dreams.
By mid-morning she sat in Abby’s hospital room, awaiting the papers that would discharge the little girl home. She regaled the group with the events that transpired the night before and her role in them.
“Oh my God girl, I cannot believe you did that,” Que exclaimed. “You really slapped him?”
“Yep,” Wyatt confirmed. “Then slid on sunglasses like a famous waif of the 1960s and walked out. It was beyond brilliant.”
“You didn’t!” Que doubled over, laughing so hard, she passed gas, causing everyone to laugh and cry uncontrollably.
“Well, I’m fairly certain I’ll be getting sued,” Raven calmed down and commented, “but it’s okay. I’m done with all of it.”
“Done performing too?” Lilly asked, pen still poised over Abby’s discharge papers.
“I don’t know.” She evaded. “Maybe I’ll give it up and start teaching piano lessons.”
“Well, I was truly proud of you,” Wyatt championed. “I thought you were really brave. It was incredible to watch and something I’ll never forget.”
Wyatt went over and gave her a one-armed squeeze.
“And what about your mothership?” Que asked. “Where’s your man at?”
Raven’s face fell because she knew he wasn't “hers,” anymore. In fact, she wasn’t sure if he ever had been.
“I’m sure he went home.” Raven’s glassy eyes connected with Que's. “I’m going to try very hard not to regret anything that happened over there. For the most part, it was a fantastic, beautiful three-month holiday.”
Wanting desperately to change the subject, she nodded at Abby, who was coloring in a book.
“So, Dr. Morgan, does this beautiful little princess get to go home?”
“Well, I think it’s time unless you can’t bear to live without me, Miss Abigail?”
“No, I’m ready.”
“Ouch. For sure?” Abby only giggled and nodded. “Okay then, I’ll finish these up, and you’ll be outta here.”
They brought the patient back to a warm homecoming, resplendent in balloons and crepe paper. Abby chose the activities of the night—cards, movies, and dinner. By the time the clock struck eight, the little girl was fast asleep. Wyatt made the long trek up Snoqualmie Pass for home and Raven went back to her condo, to determine what came next.
She made herself some tea and started a bath. When the lavender bath bomb hit the water, she watched it fizz and spin as it disintegrated. After lighting some scented candles, she gave an orgasmic groan, as she sank deep into the hot, sudsy water. She ran her hands over her stomach, breasts, and hips as if collecting inventory until her fingers ran over the small scar on her hip. Closing her eyes, stinging sharply from tears, she transported back to the night she received it.
They’d been placed in foster care with a retired military family in Bethany, Missouri. The couple had a son, Kevin, one year older than the twins, but were unable to have any more children. Hazel, their new mother, bore the brunt of that failing. When she pleaded with her husband, retired Colonel Jonathan Knapp, to adopt a little girl, he scoffed at raising another person’s “brat.” Upon hearing they could earn an extra fifteen hundred dollars per month for the twins, he changed his mind.
They had passed the requirements of a foster family. The Colonel, as everyone called him, didn’t like the revolving social workers showing up without notice or care and eventually adopted the Hunter children, yet never gave them his last name.
Life for the family was always strict. The Colonel’s taste for whiskey increased, as years and regret sank in. When the boys began competing for grades and sports, Knapp made it known that his son came first. If Kevin didn't perform better than Wyatt, his father rained taunting and ridicule down on him. The rules of his house were non-negotiable. Any infractions resulted in strict discipline and corporal punishment.
It started as a cuff on the ear to Raven for not setting the table fast enough, an open-palm slap on the face for Wyatt for talking back, a kick in Kevin’s back for sloppy painting. They could hear Hazel’s cries and scary grunts at night in their darkened room. Meals revoked for bad grades, friends not allowed in the home for any reason, and nothing short of perfection tolerated—even then, it was left to the discretion of the Colonel as to whether or not it was perfect enough.
So, when the Hunter children arrived, bearing the scars of grief over their parents’ death, the Knapps made little accommodation. Raven had horrible nightmares, resulting in bed-wetting and the ire and insults of her new father. When she got older, the accidents became less frequent. Raven tried to change the bed herself quietly or with Wyatt before the Colonel could see. On one such night, she tripped on a blanket and fell headlong into the wall, causing him to get up. He hadn’t been asleep but watching TV, drinking whiskey, and smoking a cigarette. This disruption and its cause infuriated him.
“What in the hell’re you doin’ out here?” he demanded.
“I, um, well I…”
Wyatt got out of bed and peeked out the doorway into the hall, as Hazel and Kevin followed suit. He grabbed Raven’s arm hard enough to make her yelp and the sheets to shift, wafting the unmistakable smell of urine.
“God damn it, did you piss your bed again?” He looked down the hall at the family. “You believe this shit, Hazel? She pissed her sheets like a damn baby again. What the hell I gotta do to make you learn, little baby?” He pulled her by the hair and shoved her down on the floor, wiping her nose into the blanket, like a dog. “Now get that shit to the laundry.”
Trying to ball it up tightly so she wouldn’t trip again, Raven took the laundry down to the washing machine. When she returned, Hazel had brought her fresh sheets.
“No, damn it.” Knapp stomped over to the fireplace and grabbed some newspapers, as if it were obvious, and threw them at Raven. “You act like a damn dog. You can sleep like a dog.”
Crying silently, she returned to her room, and Wyatt helped her with the newspaper.
“When he goes to sleep, you can come over with me,” he whispered.
“Like hell, she will.” The man spat, hearing the exchange and causing Raven to cry louder. He walked over to her and slapped her hard. “Now if you wanna blubber, I can really give you something to blubber about.”
“Johnathan,” Hazel began softly.
“What!” he roared. “If you were doing your damn job I wouldn’t have to.” She tried to speak but just closed her mouth. He turned back to Raven, standing in her underwear, trying hard but failing to stop the tears. “Okay then, let’s see if we can’t teach you not to piss your pants.”
He spun the little girl around and thinking she was going to get a spanking, Raven clenched her bottom and tried to evade. Instead, the Colonel pulled down the side elastic band of her underwear and stubbed his cigarette out on her upper hip. She screamed, and Wyatt threw himself at the man, in only the way a nine-year-old boy could. Knapp yanked him by the arm and twisted it while throwing him against the wall. There was a loud grinding crack, then sharp snap, as Wyatt also screamed out in pain. Kevin ran back to his room and muffled his cries with a pillow, while Hazel closed her eyes as he passed her, throwing a shoulder into hers, muttering.
Appearing not to know which child to go to first, the older woman simply left and returned with a useless bag of frozen peas. Raven clutched her brother and sobbed, as Hazel placed the peas on his arm, causing him to cry out more.
“Oh shh,” Hazel whispered quickly. “Shh, it’s gonna to be okay. Come on now Wyatt. You need to simmer down. He’s gonna hear you.”
The smell of her own burnt skin made Raven’s stomach recoil. She watched
her adoptive mother’s brows draw together in sympathy, and carefully avoided her burn. Hazel brushed Raven’s hair back and kissed her temple before turning back to the boy, removing the peas and peering at the swelling.
“Okay now. Now hold on, Wyatt, I think we might need to go to the hospital for this one.” She searched for inspiration. “Okay, so we’ll tell ’em you guys went outside, and we hadn’t yet noticed the frost. Your feet just came clear out from under you, and your arm landed on the stone border. Okay? Wyatt, now you tell it to me back honey.” She gave a quick side-long glance to Raven, as he did. “Okay then, let’s get our clothes on now, and we’ll get goin’.”
“She ain’t goin’ nowhere,” the Colonel snarled from the doorway, and everyone jumped. He walked over, addressing all but never taking his eyes off Wyatt. “She’ll stay here and clean up this disgustin’ mess. You go if you’re that big a pussy, but if you even think about tryin’ to make me look bad or make this somethin’ other than it was,”— he sneered at Raven—“I will hurt her…bad. You understand what I’m tellin’ you, boy?” Wyatt nodded nervously.
Raven stared at the small light brown circle as if it belonged to someone else in a different life. She dried off and put on her fluffy white comfort robe while walking out to the kitchen. She steeped some more tea, then cuddled up on the couch and stared out the window. They had endured that treatment for eight long years. He never burned her physically again, but mentally the Colonel let her know she was only a girl, who was insubstantial and incapable. Wyatt bore the brunt of his adoptive father’s ire for his sister, as well as himself, whenever possible. The chamomile and lavender of the tea hovered thickly around her head. She sipped and thought back to that last day.
They were sixteen. Wyatt came home one night, elated to tell everyone he’d made the varsity basketball team. Kevin had to remain on JV and was irritated, knowing the shame he’d receive from his father. He gave his adoptive brother a hard shove. Wyatt, off balance, bumped into Hazel, who had been carrying a hot casserole to the dining room table. It flew out of her hands and onto the wall but not before some fell and seared into Raven’s shoulder. Before she could stifle it, she screeched in pain.
“What the fuck’re you doin’!” Knapp stood up, knocking his chair to the ground. “Are you stupid?” Raven emitted a small cry before she could help herself, eliciting a glare from the cruel man. “Shut up! Mother…” He nodded at his wife to take care of her, then turned back to Wyatt, who clearly seethed with rage.
“Kevin pushed me into her,” Wyatt retorted in an uncharacteristic act of defiance. Then raised his arms as the man advanced on him and grabbed him by the hair.
“What did you say?”
“I said, Kevin’s pissed, ’cause I made it, and he didn’t. He pushed me into her. You should be mad at him.” He raised his arms again, as the Colonel bore down on him and dove off the cliff. “Deal with it.”
“Who in the hell do you think you’re talkin’ to boy?” He whispered in a deadly drawl. “Deal with it!” He slammed Wyatt’s head into the sheetrock. The plaster dented and Raven screamed. “That what you said to me boy, deal with it?” Knapp picked him up and shoved him into the wall again, knocking his breath out.
Dazed, Wyatt slid down the wall onto the floor. He had no ability to defend himself as the Colonel inflicted a series of hard kicks to the ribs.
“How d’ya like how I’m dealin’ with it, you little piece of shit?”
Forgetting her pain, Raven ran to her brother, crying, and flung her arms around him, as she got kicked in the head. Kevin, though also used to beatings, opened his mouth to try and calm the situation. He met the back of his father’s hand, hell-bent on regaining control of his family.
Wyatt sat up in pain and regarded Hazel, whose eyes were cast downward, then back at the Colonel.
“You ever touch my sister or me again, I swear I’ll kill you myself.”
Knapp just laughed and grabbed a knife off the table, as if picking up a baseball. He placed the sole of his boot flat on Wyatt’s painful chest.
“I got every right to discipline you any way I want.” He held the knife loosely but menacingly in his hand. “You wanna play with me son? I will fuckin’ slice her.” He pointed the knife at Raven. “And then you.” He pointed it back at Wyatt. “Do I make myself clear?”
Without waiting for an answer, he removed his boot and turned to his wife. “Call me when my supper’s ready and you got this damn mess picked up.” He walked back to his study, muttering. Reaching for the door, he turned and yelled to his wife. “Oh, and no dinner for these three little fuckwits. They can starve for all I give a shit.”
After a few moments, Kevin reached a hand down to help Wyatt up.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
Leaning on each other, the twins went to their shared room and Raven helped him remove his shirt. She gently probed the area.
“Does it feel like anything’s broken?” she asked in a frantic tone.
“Hell if I know, just hurts.”
“Okay, well, maybe should you lay down?”
“Maybe we should get the hell outta here,” he wheezed. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
“We can’t,” she admonished in a whisper. Her eyes darted around the room in case their abuser was in the hall. “We don’t have enough money yet,” she whispered, acknowledging the paltry amount they’d been able to squirrel away.
“We have the fake IDs, and we could get jobs.”
“What about school?”
“We’ll have to figure it out when we get to the new place. But that motherfucker’s crazy, and he’s only getting worse.”
She saw him glance at the scar above her eyebrow from when the bastard had backhanded her, cutting her open with his ring.
“We gotta be done here, Raven. We’ve been dealing with this shit too long. He’s gonna kill someone someday, and it won’t be Kevin or Hazel first. I can’t stay here another night.” Not being with her brother would never have occurred to Raven, so she just hung her head. Breathing hard, he lifted her chin with one hand while holding his ribs with the other and considered her eyes. That’s all it took.
“What do we need to do?” she asked.
“You get as much food and water packed into the backpacks. I’ll get as much as I can from their wallets. What else?”
“Blankets, clothes?”
“Yeah, okay. We won’t be able to take a lot. We’ll wear as many clothes as we can and fit the rest into a garbage sack. Not too heavy though. We don’t want people to notice us too much. Then we’ll just figure out where to go after we find out how much money we have.”
When he rifled through Hazel’s purse, he realized the gods must have been smiling down on them. She’d recently been to the bank and two hundred and fifty dollars sat neatly tucked in a teller’s envelope. As the Knapps slept, Wyatt entered the lion’s den and grabbed the Colonel’s wallet off his dresser, before retreating back to their room without a sound.
“How are you going to put that back?” Raven whispered.
“We won’t need to. We’ll be gone.”
She watched her brother peel out two hundred and thirty-seven dollars from the money clip and throw the rest of it on the ground. Collecting all they could, they escaped out their bedroom window and ran down the street, toward the bus station. Thirty minutes later, they were searching for the earliest bus leaving Bethany and bought two one-way tickets to Seattle. By the time the Colonel woke that morning, the twins were passing through Clear Lake, Iowa. Fifty-seven hours after that, Wyatt saw the lights of their new city and woke his sister.
Immediately, they met Que, another runaway, who helped them get jobs and find shelter. Eventually, they all found a place to live together, received their GEDs, and utilized every benefit they qualified for, including counseling for the horrors they suffered at their adoptive father’s hand and parents’ tragedy.
The trio became family and it was their second Christmas together when W
yatt gave her that first guitar, thus beginning her career.
Raven thought of her brother’s sweet and handsome face and how he had affected her life. The one person, her person, in the world. He gave her wings to begin this life, even though he would be horrified to know she thought of it that way.
Now looking out of her million-dollar condo at the gray skies of Seattle, tears ran as silently down her face, as the rain slid down the glass windowpanes. She thought of the Colonel, wondering what imprint he left on her? Fear? Helplessness? She didn’t know. And what about Donovan? Dependence? Isolation? Her mind drifted. What about Finn?
She turned toward the room and peered down at the coffee table, where the morning paper headlines were, Raven Hunter Collapses at Concert. It was accompanied by a very unflattering photo, looking like she had overdosed. Donovan’s handiwork, no doubt. She shook her head. All that counseling, she thought, all that preparation to overcome her early existence, and look where she was now.
Chapter 31
Back in his car after being thrown out of the concert, Finn flexed and balled his fists, working out the knuckles that connected with the manager’s face. The sickening crack of Jason’s nose breaking gave him immense satisfaction and caused him to grin malevolently. He sat back and closed his eyes. Images and memories of the horrible things he said and the pain on Raven’s face at hearing them, flooded in. It was plain to see she was miserable and hadn’t slept in days. Probably thinking about a little girl laying somewhere in a hospital, and he just added to that pain.
Glancing down on the passenger seat, he eyed his cell phone, laying in wanton accusation. He retrieved it and stared at the screen for a full minute before connecting the call and lifting the phone to his ear. It went directly to voicemail, which wasn’t a huge surprise.