What Lies Beneath (Count on Me Series #7)

by Melyssa Winchester

  His excessive drinking and nights full of hatred and loathing.

  The blame being tossed at Belle’s feet happened a year later.

  “Kayden, can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “I know you probably don’t want to get into it, but a couple of days after Mom sent you home, you came back over after school with a bunch of cuts on your face. Mom used to tell me that you were fighting at school, acting out because you were trying to deal with your mom leaving, but I didn’t believe her. I still don’t.”

  She didn’t believe it because she knew me better than anyone.

  Sure, I became really aggressive after she split, but after all the crap at home, I’d learned how to fight and it wasn’t often I had marks to show for it.

  Unless the marks came from home.

  “It was Dean. It was always him, Belle.”

  “How bad was it?” she murmurs softly, her attempt to not push me evident, but unnecessary given the road I’m already on.

  “No worse than the stuff that was going on before.”

  “Was it like the day I found you on the floor?”

  My head starts moving of its own volition. Nothing was quite as bad as what Belle walked in on senior year.

  That was the end result, not the beginning.

  “The first night we went home, things seemed okay. I was in my room alone, Dean was out in the living room drinking. With him, that was pretty standard though. It only turned nasty after he started inviting people over. He wanted to put on a show at that point and ended up using me to do it.”

  “How?”

  “Called me out of the room saying he wanted to run through drills with me. Combat techniques. He wanted to be sure that I didn’t turn into a pussy like our mother.”

  “Kay…”

  “I know, Belle. But if I don’t get it out now, I never will. You knew the gist of what was going on here. What you could see after the fact anyway. Maybe it’s time I dealt with what got me there.”

  “Okay…” she answers, the word trepid and unsure. The way they should be. No one should ever have to deal with this kind of nightmare. Least of all her.

  “I blocked the first few attempts. He couldn’t get a hit off and when he attempted to take me off my feet, that wasn’t working either. But considering how easily he’d been able to do it before, I knew it was booze causing his delay. I just didn’t expect the adrenaline rush I ended up having the more we went at it. How into it I got. Soon we were sparring, and even though they weren’t all that hard, I got a few good hits in. Made his drunk ass stumble. But I got cocky showing off for his buddies, and when I turned my attention away it all changed.”

  “Changed how?”

  It’s weird how things that happened years before, ones that you haven’t even really thought about in forever, are always just there. They never really go away. They only seem to gain more color and vibrancy when you’re forced to remember them.

  “He didn’t hold back. He was pissed drunk, but vile. I think that was the night I finally learned the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “How he really felt about me.”

  *****

  Rubbing at my jaw, now stinging from the impact of Dean’s fist as it sideswiped my face, I steel myself for what comes next and ready my body for his next move.

  “Come on, pretty boy. Stop tearing up and show me what you got!”

  I’ll show him tearing up when I take his head clear off.

  Lunging at him, I realize two seconds too late that he’s moved from his position and come crashing down to the floor hard as my sock hooks onto the ridge in the carpet. Swallowing down the anger at the wails now filling the room from Dean and his idiotic friends, I attempt to get back to my feet.

  I’m just not quick enough.

  Struggling against Dean’s meat filled arm as it comes across my neck and he pulls back tight, our bodies so close I can actually feel the movement of his breath between our clothes, I shift my arm in an attempt to elbow him off me.

  A mistake he catches when with his free hand he halts me, leaning in as close as he possibly can, his beer mixed with rum breath running hot against the side of my face. The smell enough to make me want to concede defeat by passing out. Out of breath but still managing to find the words, he says things that despite seeing it in actions over the last few years, he’s never actually outright admitted to.

  “It’s your fault she’s gone, you know. She told me just how pathetic she thought you were. How your incessant need to be close to her was driving her fucking crazy. She never wanted you in the first place. None of us did. God. Dad was so fucking pissed when he found out she was knocked up. He knows you’re not his. That you’re just a dirty bastard not even a mother could love.”

  Doubling over when after shoving me down the floor he lands a hard knee down into my back, I bring my hands up over my face, before resting them over my ears, having heard more than enough and needing to block out whatever shit he’s going to spew next.

  What turns out to be a fail as he wastes no time yanking my hands away and continuing his verbal assault. What hurts even more than the random hits he gets off, and what I would gladly give myself over to physical torture in order to stop.

  “I hate that she left me here with you. That I’ve got to get up every fucking day and actually take care of your blubbering, worthless ass. You’re pathetic, Kayden. The worst kind of brother. No one wants you. Not me, not Dad and as you can see…” he laughs sadistically, pulling back just enough to enjoy the laugh with his friends. “Not Mom.”

  “You’re lying!” I yell, waiting until he’s down close enough again and using every bit of strength I have to turn myself just enough to get a shot off. A shot that once it connects with his face, I’m sure has broken my hand.

  Breathe Kayden. Close your eyes, keep breathing and you’ll be out of here soon enough. Back across the street where it’s safe.

  Where you’re loved.

  As Dean begins another assault, retaliation for the mark I’m sure I’ve left on his face, I let go. Close my eyes and begin to succumb to the black that his ugly ass school ring drenches me in the more he attacks.

  “Walker boys aren’t bad. Just you are.” He hisses through his teeth as spots begin to form in front of my eyes and the faint scent of blood as it breaks through my now open skin begins to fill the air.

  “And if that selfish bitch ever comes back, I’m going to show her just how bad.”

  *****

  “It’s okay, Kay. You’re not with Dean anymore. You’re with me and you’re safe.” I hear her soothing as I come out of the memory. Wetness evident as it coats my face, but her wrapped so completely in me that her hair has taken the majority of it. Soaked them up.

  Erased them.

  “I did it.” I breathe out, the ramifications of Dean’s final words crackling in the air around me.

  “Did what?”

  “I thought I was fighting back. I thought I was fighting against him, but that wasn’t what happened at all. I let him beat me. I let him change me. I let it all happen and didn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

  As her hold on me grows tighter, I ready myself for the argument that’s bound to come. What I’m damn sure she’s not going to believe because even though she has no issue calling me on my crap, she’s not going to share the same belief that this was all my fault.

  “I gave up.”

  “You were nine.” She states, right on cue and I shake myself so strongly in denial that her hold falls away until it’s just me.

  Exactly the way it was then.

  Always just me.

  “I was nine, not two. I knew right from wrong, good from bad, love from hate. I knew it all!”

  “And he was your brother. You loved him. You gave up because you loved him.”

  “No! Belle, don’t you get it? I gave up and became the monster because it was fucking easier. What I didn’t wasn’t noble, so stop trying
to make it seem like it was.”

  The position of the cushion she’s been sitting on changes, and I know I’ve gone too far. Lost myself so deep into past bullshit that I’ve turned back into the very thing I’ve spent three years trying to escape.

  I’m putting it on her.

  Making her the bad guy.

  The same way I did then.

  “Belle...”

  “No, Kayden.” She halts me. “You’re right. You did take the easy way out. You made the choice to do the things you did to me and others. I’m not going to excuse any of that, but back then, after your mom left and the things your brother did...they aren’t all on you. What I said is still right. You went through all of that because you wanted something different. Thought if you just hung in there, it could and would be better.”

  “I should have, I don’t know, fought harder. Taken him out before he could make good on his promise to ruin me.”

  “Kay…”

  “I could have done it, Belle. I wanted to do it so badly. I wanted to end him. End it. I could have done it, but he was right. I was too weak.” Pausing as a realization hits me straight between the eyes, I laugh and as expected, she looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “All those years we spent together and I never saw it. It was staring me in the face the entire time and it took years for it to finally sink in.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You, Belle. If I had just stayed with you instead of going off the rails the way I did, I would have been able to do it.”

  “Do what?” she presses, her eyes curving in and becoming increasingly more confused.

  “Beat him. Be better. Stronger.”

  “Kayden,” she sighs. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say.”

  “You were the strong one. You. Every day, you woke up and did what you had to do even though I know you didn’t understand any of what was going on with you or why. You wore the same face, even when things may have been falling apart. You never lost heart or hope. You never showed weakness. And before you argue and tell me that you did, I’m gonna stop you because I’m not talking about your accidents, the meltdowns or any of the other things you did back then that to everyone else looked like you were breaking down. I’m talking about the way that you got up again after one of those episodes and kept going. You never gave up.”

  I realized very quickly after our reconnection that she was the stronger of the two of us, but after everything we’ve brought to light over the last few days, it’s never been clearer. Belle went through hell and she never let it break her.

  She’s stronger than she thinks she is.

  Belle is stronger than all of us.

  “If I’d clued in sooner to it, I could have used your strength. Stopped all of this before it ever got to the point that it did. I could have been the person you needed me to be.”

  “I only ever needed you to be you, Kayden. Whatever or whoever that was. As long as it was you, then I had everything I needed. Lover, fighter, bully or the bullied. I only ever wanted you.”

  “So you would have been okay with the person I became?”

  “No,” she admits. “I don’t think anyone wanted that, but the boy that kept hoping for a better outcome, never stopped wanting that end, yes. I wanted him because he was you. Then and now. Do you wanna know what I thought about after I made sure you were alright the night of homecoming?”

  She could want to recite a fast food menu from one of the drawers in the kitchen and I’d want to hear it, so her question is silly. Of course I want to know. Every single thought she has is important. Especially with the way everything went down that night and what happened after.

  “I was so happy I got to you in time.” She admits once I’ve given her the go ahead with a slight nod. “But not because I was there to protect you physically, and not even because it was the first time I spoke so openly.”

  “Then why?”

  “Because despite the humiliation I went through at your hand, the pain of losing you years before, and the sting of that loss that I lived with every day until the day you drove me home that first time, I prevented Dean from stealing the rest of you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The night you kissed me for the first time, I saw it. The look in your eye. I saw the real you. No matter how hard you tried to distance yourself from it, it was still there, Kayden. Coming into the house that night and seeing you on the floor, broken, bruised, but still breathing, I knew what I had to do. I had to stop Dean from robbing you of it. Of yourself.”

  “You saved me.”

  “No, Kay. I might have been there and stopped things, but I didn’t do the saving. You did.”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue, but with the determination in her eyes, the rightness I can see there, the truth that she wears so strongly it radiates from her eyes, I can’t do it.

  I can’t take away her belief.

  I won’t.

  Not when I’m pretty sure even with my own argument, she’s right.

  “I knew I had to protect the look I saw that night, Kayden. Even if we hadn’t become what we are and we’d gone back to the way things were, as long as that stayed, things would be fine. You were still in there and you’d be okay.”

  Belle has always been a deeper thinker than the rest of us and here’s proof.

  She saw something in me then that for whatever reason, I couldn’t or didn’t want to see. Something I’m sure she’s been seeing all along.

  Me.

  The me I was when I was with her.

  The person I always want to be.

  “Thank you.” I murmur, reaching across until my hand is wrapping securely around hers and pulling her close to me again.

  “Thank you for seeing what I couldn’t.”

  “Always.” She smiles, patting my leg before sliding off the sofa and hopping to her feet. “Now, come on. We’ve got some breakfast to make and actually eat this time.”

  Taking her outstretched hand in mine and letting her pull me to my feet, I wrap my arms around her and we walk to the kitchen. As she steps away from me, busying herself at the fridge, grabbing ingredients for whatever she’s got in mind to eat, I watch her. All the while swallowing the lump beginning to grow despite the calm way we seemed to end the latest walk down memory lane.

  A lump I know with everything coming up next in our journaling journey, is a precursor to the storm that’s brewing.

  I just hope when it’s all said and done, this time, I can get us both out unscathed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  January 4, 2008

  Everyone leaves.

  It’s all lies.

  Everyone is full of crap.

  It’s like Dean says. Everyone is full of shit. We’re all just swimming in bullshit.

  I just never thought she’d be a part of it.

  Not her.

  Not my Belle.

  But it’s true. She’s just like everyone else.

  She’s bad. A liar.

  Why else would she cry when she caught me doing it and then call me the same name my mom did?

  Why would she look so pathetically sad if she wasn’t a part of this?

  If she didn’t know all this time that my mom was planning on leaving without me.

  All this time I thought Belle was my friend, but she wasn’t. She’s just like everyone else. All sweet to your fucking face and then the worst kind of mean behind your back.

  Her and that stupid mom of hers. The one I liked calling Auntie Grace.

  I never want to see them again.

  I hate them.

  Want to hurt them the same way they did me.

  I heard Grace talking. I heard the whispers and what she said to Belle before I told her to go to screw herself and left the house.

  They’ve both known about my mom all this time. Known about what happens to me across the street and want it to keep happening.

>   She makes me sick.

  I hate her.

  I love her.

  I miss her.

  I want to hurt her.

  Why Belle? Huh? Why did you have to be like everyone else? Why couldn’t you just tell me that my mom was leaving and I was gonna get stuck with Dean?

  I could have run away. Begged your mom to keep me forever so we’d never have to be apart. I could have helped her and earned my place. Anything but this.

  Anything but the lies and secrets.

  I thought we felt the same. I thought I meant everything. The same way you mean everything to me.

  Why did you lie? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you have to make my chest hurt? Why does it have to hurt so bad that I can’t breathe?

  I want to hit something. Force my fingers in as tight as they can go and just unload on something. A person, a face, a wall. Something. Anything that will make this pain go away.

  I miss my mom.

  I want her to come home. Show her that Walker boys can be good enough. That we can be awesome. I want her to see that I’m not him, and if she promises to stay, things will get better.

  I’ll make them better.

  But as much as I miss her and can feel my chest caving in on itself…the pain isn’t all for her.

  It’s Belle.

  If getting the hell away from her and her lies is the right thing, why does it feel like something is missing?

  Oh right. It’s because that stupid girl across the street ripped my heart out and kept it.

  Belle has my heart.

  Good.

  I didn’t need that piece of shit anyway.

  My heart or her.

  I’m better off alone.

  “I always wondered…” she whispers as she closes the book and taps on the cover. “I spent a lot of time trying to figure out when everything changed. How one day we were fine. You were still coming over and playing with me just like always and then suddenly you were spitting on me whenever you got close enough to actually make contact and cursing me under your breath whenever we passed on the street. I guess I know now.”

  How do I explain this so she’ll understand more than just the ten year old ramblings in the book? How do I tell the woman I love that all it took was a name, a look, and a conversation she had with her mom that she probably doesn’t even remember, for me to turn my back on her?