Cruel Water (Portland, ME, novels Book 2)

by Freya Barker

  “Hi, you must be Ike? I’m Lydia, Owen’s wife. So glad you could join us.”

  From the angry scowl her husband throws her, it’s easy to see he doesn’t feel that way. All the more reason for me to clasp Lydia’s hand and smile at her. “Nice to meet you, too. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” Viv’s mom looks a little uneasy, so I turn to her next. “Good to see you again, Mrs. Lestar, and I’m glad it’s under better circumstances.” That earns me a little smile.

  “Have a seat,” Lydia offers, taking the empty spot beside her husband.

  “Gentlemen.” I nod at the other three brothers before sitting down, trying to ignore the glares.

  Viv pours coffee quietly, I’m sure to keep her hands busy, even though her mind must be going a mile a minute. I’m starting to reconsider whether coming with her was perhaps a mistake, the tension around the table is palpable.

  “Okay, now that we’re all here,” Owen says with an edge that has Lydia’s eyes snap to him. “Let’s crunch some numbers. I’ve done a few calculations.” He hands out copies of a spreadsheet, and I purposely don’t look at the copy I receive. I really don’t have any business with this part of the discussion. I want Owen to know it.

  The next half hour is spent going over sources of income versus a new monthly budget of expenses that includes their father’s care. It becomes clear that those far outweigh the combination of small pensions they’ve managed to live on so far. No one seems surprised, including Viv’s mom. In fact, she has a print out herself, with details of a small seniors’ apartment building not too far from Seaside Assisted Living, where her husband lives. With some concrete plans in place, I speak up for the first time when a suggestion is made about doing a few upgrades to the house to ensure top market value.

  “I actually have a house about as old as this one and just had some work done by a contractor, who’s done a great job. He will come in and do a free assessment and quote. If you like, I can leave you his number. It’s a place to start.” I purposely address Mrs. Lestar, since in my eyes, she may need the support from her children, but she’s still very much in charge.

  “That would be helpful. Thank you, Ike.” She smiles at me before turning her eyes on Viv. “Now that that’s out of the way, why haven’t I seen much of you lately? Is this man keeping you too busy?”

  There definitely is an edge to her tone, and I put my hand on Viv’s thigh underneath the table, stilling her leg which starts to bob up and down.

  “Actually ...” Viv starts, flicking her eyes around the table and receiving an encouraging nod from Lydia in return. “I have been dealing with some things, Mom. I’m sure you remember Frank? He’s back in town and he’s making his presence known.”

  Aaron is the first to react. “What does that mean? ‘Making his presence known.’ Is he looking to get back with you? I thought he was somewhere in California.”

  Viv’s mom leans over the table and puts her hand on Viv’s nervously wringing ones. “Honey, why don’t you tell us?”

  “I’ve had to take a restraining order out on him. He’s been ... rather threatening.”

  “Excuse me? He’s threatening you?” This time it’s Nolan who speaks up. Of course both Owen and Dorian are in the know, as well as Lydia I presume, so they remain quiet.

  “Well, you know things with him ended rather abruptly.” Her mother nods her acknowledgement. Viv takes a deep breath in and steals a quick look my way before continuing. “I had to go into hiding right after the last time he put me in the hospital.”

  Her mom inhales sharply before covering her mouth with her hands, right before chairs are being shoved back and expletives uttered by two of the brothers.

  “The fuck?”

  “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  I stop them with a raised hand. “Let her talk. Please?”

  I could care less about the angry glares sent my way, because both of them shut up.

  “I just couldn’t, I’m sorry,” she says, mostly to her mom, who seems frozen on the spot. “All I can say is it built up very gradually and I was ... ashamed? Afraid? I’m not even sure.”

  “You were with him a long time, honey,” her mother struggles to find the words. “Was this going on the whole time?” Nolan steps up behind his mother, putting his hands on her shoulders. Viv looks from one to the other before answering softly.

  “Most of it.”

  “How many times?” The angry question comes from Aaron.

  “Sorry?”

  “How many times did that bastard put you in the hospital, Vivian?”

  I don’t like the threatening tone of his voice, but I want to let Viv take the lead. Nevertheless, I’m primed to jump in on one wrong move or word.

  “Four. I ended up in the hospital four times.” Is the timid response.

  “Four,” he sneers. “Three fucking times he beat you into the hospital, and still you needed a fourth time to conclude you might wanna get away from this guy?”

  “Enough!” Dorian jumps in before I have a chance to, shoving his chair back from the table. Aaron looks at him through slitted eyes before moving his gaze over to Owen, who sits silently with his head bowed, and Lydia who meets his eyes with tears brimming her own.

  “You knew?” he says softly, his disbelief clear in the tone of his voice.

  Owen lifts his head slowly. “We just found out ourselves.”

  I lean in and tuck Viv to my side with an arm over her shoulders, noticing the way both her mother and Nolan intensely stare at her. Viv’s head is down and I know she’s hanging on by a thread.

  With a sweep of his arm, Aaron mows the table in front of him clear, china shattering against the wall and floor with a loud crash. “Goddammit!”

  Instead of looking up, Viv cowers down even further against me and I’ve had enough. “Fucking get hold of yourself,” I bite off, glaring at Aaron. “Look at what you’re doing to her.”

  His eyes slide to the hunched figure of his sister beside me and his face immediately softens. “Oh, Sis.”

  Viv’s shoulders move under my arm as she tries to hold back a muffled sob.

  “Why?” The harsh question comes from her mother, who’s kept surprisingly quiet and appears the most contained. “Why would you stay with someone like that? Why not talk to your family? We stick together. Your father and I taught you better.”

  Even Nolan seems shocked at his mother’s tone, as the whole table turns their eyes on her. Too late I notice Viv’s shoulders tensing and her head coming up slowly.

  “My father?” The shrill sound of her voice has me leaning in and whispering in her ear.

  “Babe, you wanna do this now?” But my words have no effect as she pushes my arm off and pushes herself up and out of her chair.

  “My father?” she repeats with a derisive snort. “What my father taught me about family is a bit different than you think. He taught me family loyalty all right—about duty and sacrifice.” Her whole body is vibrating with anger now, and I slowly stand up and move behind her. Shock is clear on the faces of her brothers, but when I look at her mother, she slowly shakes her head with fingers tightly pressed against her lips.

  “His duty and my sacrifice, that is. He reminded me how easy it would be to take me away from this precious family if I said anything—every time he fucking violated me!” The hysterical edge has reached its peak when Viv screams the last words at the top of her lungs. That’s when I slip my arms around her waist and pull her sagging body against me.

  “Enough, baby. Enough ...” I’m not sure that my voice penetrates the woeful sobs she breaks into.

  “Liar,” her mom hisses between her teeth, startling me with her venom.

  “Mom!” Lydia reprimands, shocked. It starts a turbulent round of shocked and disbelieving comments from everyone around the table.

  Fucking hell, what a mess. I can barely hold up the woman in my arms, her legs no longer properly supporting her. Until finally, I half carry, half drag her out o
f the dining room and into the hallway, ignoring the disorderly chaos still ringing in my ears. Holding her up with one arm, I try to open the door, determined to get her out of here, when I feel a hand on my back.

  “Let me help,” Lydia says, sadness marring her face, as she reaches past me to open the door. I get Viv to the car, that thankfully sits along the curb and isn’t blocked in the drive. She’s quiet, and although crying and defeated, seems to be alert and aware.

  “Take me home.” Her voice cracks on the softly spoken but determined words, when I help her into the passenger seat.

  “Oh, honey,” Lydia’s voice comes from behind me, and I step aside to let her lean into the open door. “I’m so sorry that happened to you. Go home, let Ike take care of you, but know that I’m only a phone call away.”

  “You believe me?”

  The genuine surprise on Viv’s face hits me squarely in the gut. I have to swallow hard to push down the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. It suddenly brings home how terribly alone she must’ve felt all these years. Not anymore. Not if I have anything to say about it.

  “Why would I doubt you, sweetie?”

  “My brothers do. My own mother doesn’t believe me. Not now and not back then,” she reveals.

  Lydia reels back and straightens up from her crouched position, firming her shoulders. “Well, don’t expect that to last,” she says determinedly. “I will set them straight.” With that she turns to me. “You better take care of her.” Her tone requires no answer, so I respond with a simple nod, wondering at her vehement support. With her lips tightly pressed together, she marches back into the house, while I round the car and slip into the driver’s seat.

  As I pull away from the curb, I glance over at Viv, who is staring out the side window. When we’re almost halfway to her place I hear a soft chuckle coming from her, surprising me.

  “Well ...” she says, dragging out the word. “I’m thinking that went well.”

  I have to pull the car to the side of the road, because I can’t see a fucking thing with tears of laughter blurring my vision. Hilarity or hysteria, the two seem only a breath apart right now. When the worst of our laughing calms down, I turn to face her, glad to see the lingering humor dance in her eyes. I’m not under any illusion that she is feeling quite as lighthearted as she seems. I know my own heart is heavy, but she’s just proved again how fucking unbreakable she really is.

  “Proud of you,” I say simply, stroking the back of my hand lightly over her cheek.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Viv

  “What a clusterfuck,” Dino says, his eyes warm with concern.

  It’s the same thing Pam said when I called her to fill her in the moment we got home on Sunday. I’d been scheduled to work, but Ike put his foot down and called Gunnar himself to tell him I needed the day. I was pretty angry, but when he explained that unless I was ready to discuss my revelations this morning with everyone, I’d do best to stay home. He was right. I was raw and in no shape to ward off probing questions without revealing more than I was ready to. “A day,” he said. “Just take one day to let things settle.” By the time he had drawn me a bath and left me soaking with a bottle of beer and my phone, I was already beyond grateful. The moment my muscles relaxed under the influence of warm water and cold drink, my emotions released in full force. A slight knock on the door, and a softly spoken, “I’m right here if you need me,” told me Ike was leaving me my space. I barely managed to thank him before the tears made it difficult. I heard the slight scrape of his body sliding down to sit in the hallway against the door. Oddly enough it didn’t make me feel smothered, but comfortably safe instead. The realization helped stem the flow of tears. By the time I dialed Pam’s number, all that was left was the odd sniffle.

  Needless to say, Pam was first upset with my family—ready to go kick some ass, like a good friend—but very quickly concern for me won out over her anger.

  “Told you he’s a good man,” she said smugly, after I told her how Ike had positioned himself at my back without interfering much. “Although in this case, I wouldn’t have held it against him had he knocked some heads together.”

  -

  I’ve agonized about my family’s response to my unplanned disclosure on top of the already sensitive bomb I’d just dropped. Pam had mentioned I should give my brothers time. She had no words for my mother, but noted I no longer referred to her as Mom, effectively distancing myself. In a lengthy phone call yesterday with Lydia, I was shocked to discover that she had repeatedly shoved off, at times quite forcibly, inappropriate advances my father had made over the years. I had no idea. She’d apparently had issues with Owen over that before when he’d tried to brush those incidents off, saying our father was just being friendly. When she’d tried to bring it back up with him on Sunday, thinking it would lend credibility to my claims, he’d totally shut her down and had left, spending the night in a hotel. As of last night, she hadn’t seen or heard from him.

  Something like this is exactly the kind of thing I’d been so afraid of: the ripple effect it would have on my family.

  Other than Lydia, I’ve heard from no one, not even Dorian has called. Despite the fact that Ike did his best to distract me with a bike ride up the coast yesterday, I feel the loss and betrayal deeply.

  This morning he offered to stay home another day if I wanted him to, but I was ready to go to work. Lose myself in the pub’s kitchen. With all my closely guarded secrets basically out in the open, I wanted to be the one to tell my other family. Ironically, I never once question their support and loyalty.

  “Clusterfuck is an adequate description,” I agree with Dino, who has listened to my recounting of this weekend’s events with no more than the slight twitch of his jaw.

  “You okay?” he asks, his head tilted to the side.

  “Nope,” I say honestly, popping my lips on the denial. “Unloading that shit did not bring any relief. At. All.”

  “Didn’t it?”

  I roll my eyes at the challenge in his question and the raised eyebrow he points in my direction. “No. All I’ve done is add burden to my family. Not like things aren’t messed up enough, as it is. I don’t like putting it on you either, or anyone else for that matter. It’s done. Over. Nothing anyone can do about it now.”

  “Well, isn’t that the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard,” he says, brusquely tossing the mushrooms in the pan of soup bubbling on the stove.

  “Excuse me?” I mumble in disbelief.

  “You heard me,” he asserts. “First of all, your family has let you down in the worst possible way. Not once, but twice. They should’ve carried this burden along with you all these years because they didn’t listen. And they’re not listening now.” He steps toward me and grabs me by the shoulders. “Secondly, your family here at the pub, your friends, have not been blind to the weight you’ve continued to carry on your shoulders, even after we found out about the abuse you suffered at the hands of that son of a bitch. We’ve been waiting for you to share, waiting for you to trust us, the way we trust you.”

  His words, more than he usually utters in one go, are a balm to my raw and tattered soul. Overcome with gratitude, I do a face-plant in his broad, warm chest. His arms fold tightly around me, and we’re still standing like that when Gunnar and Syd walk in the back door.

  “What happened?” Syd asks with alarm in her voice.

  I pull back from Dino’s embrace, when he mumbles, “Come clean.”

  “I need to talk to you,” I announce, turning toward them. Syd’s eyes are big with worry, and Gunnar just nods, a deep frown creasing his forehead.

  “Use Gunnar’s office,” Dino rumbles behind me. “For privacy,” he adds.

  Following his suggestion, I follow them down the hall, the lead in my shoes getting heavier with each step. Once inside, Gunnar closes the door and instead of sitting on the other side of his desk, he sits down beside me, pulling Syd onto his lap. I smile at his urge to provide comfort to his wi
fe, even before I have a chance to share.

  Ironically, it turns out to be Syd giving him comfort by the time I have caught them up. Gunnar’s hands are grabbing on the armrests of the chair so tightly, I’m afraid he’ll snap them off. Syd’s sad eyes are on mine as her hand soothingly continues to stroke his chest.

  “I’m sorry for dumping this on you, but I didn’t want to run the risk of you finding out any other way,” I apologize, earning a sharp look from both.

  “I didn’t see,” Gunnar says, shaking his head. “Was at your house all the fucking time, but I never saw.”

  “No one did. I don’t think so, anyway. As for my mother, I don’t know if she saw, all I know is that she didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to hear. I can think of a few reasons why that might be, but I’ll never understand.”

  “That’s because it’s unforgivable.” This from Syd, who is the most understanding and forgiving person I’ve come to know.

  “How?” Gunnar asks the hard question, but I don’t feel defensive with him. I know he just wants to understand.

  “I think the milk,” I venture, having had some time to mull it over. “Every night he brought me milk to help me sleep. I was always a spirited child. I think he put something in the milk to make sure I was a little more ... agreeable. Some of my memories are a bit spotty, especially the first time he ... he ...” I have to force myself to speak the words. Make it real. “He raped me.”

  Gunnar flinches and Syd buries her face in his neck. Guess it makes it real for them, too. Rape. Such an ugly word. The flashbacks to that first time are blissfully limited in what I recall. Mostly I remember throwing up for days after.

  “What can we do?” Syd asks in a timid voice. “What do you need?”

  I reach out and grab her hand. “Just this. What you’re doing right now. Hearing—listening—caring—believing.”

  -

  The rest of the day passes relatively uneventfully.

  I had to make Gunnar promise not to kick Owen’s ass, needing to believe he’d come to me on his own, eventually. When Matt came in he could sense something was up, but he was barking up the wrong tree when he stopped me in the hallway and started laying in on Ike. I lost it for a minute there. Yelled at him to back off and got both Dino and Gunnar to come running from opposite sides of the hallway. Dino lead me away to the kitchen, while Gunnar took Matt in the other direction. Dino forced a glass of scotch down my gullet, and I have to admit, the slow, gentle burn of the alcohol went a long way to calming me down. By the time Matt came shuffling into the kitchen, with regret all over his face, I was up and hugging him without thinking.