by Jo Cassidy
He threw up his hands. "Daddy? Cora, you're not five. Look at what he's done to you. You're scared of me." He motioned to himself. "Me. I would never hurt you or take advantage of you."
"Oh, really?" I huffed. "So you didn't want to have sex with me?"
He pulled back in confusion. "Sex? It was a kiss, Cora. It's not like clothes were coming off."
"But your hands." I pressed my arms close to my chest.
"Only went to your back and sides," he said, holding up his hands. "They never went to the no zones."
I furrowed my eyebrows. "The no zones?"
His eyes went to my chest, and then he quickly looked away. "I would never force you to have sex. Ever. I'm not even ready for that."
"You aren't?"
All teenage boys were. That was what Daddy had said.
Brendon sat down on my bed. "I’m not going to lie. A lot of boys want that. We think about it a lot." He sighed. "But I'm not a rapist. Even if you had said you'd wanted to have sex tonight, I would have said no. You're not ready. I don't think you'll be ready for a long time. You have some issues with men to work out."
"I do not have issues." My hands clenched into fists.
He tilted his head toward me and swept his hand out. "You still call your father ‘Daddy.’ You pushed me away from only a kiss. It took you forever to even let me touch you. You sometimes look afraid of me, Dalton, and your dad. Basically, any guy." He slowly stood. "I'm sorry if I upset you. I just came here to make sure he didn't hurt you." He stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Which, obviously he did."
"He didn't touch me tonight. Daddy didn't hurt me." He’d wanted to but stopped himself. Although, he’d make up for it when we moved.
He licked his bottom lip and let out a loud breath. "Physical abuse is not the only abuse. There's also verbal and emotional."
"Daddy loves me."
"Love sometimes makes people do crazy things." He took his hands out of his pockets. "Let me see your back."
I backed away from him. "No."
"Why not?"
"I said I didn't want to have sex."
He rolled his eyes. "This isn't about that. I want to see why your back hurts."
I stood tall. "I pulled something. It's fine. Nothing for you to worry about."
Brendon backed toward the window. "I've kept my mouth shut for way too long. I've been stupid and careless." He reached down and picked up my backpack. "I've let you control me with those beautiful eyes of yours. I’m not making the same mistake I did with my friend." He threw the backpack out the window.
"What are you doing?" I asked, panic rising. It wove through me, clutching tight.
"What I should have done a long time ago." He wiped a tear off his cheek. "I really didn't want it to end this way." He pushed the loose bar free and hurried out the window before I could stop him.
He grabbed my backpack from the grass and took off running.
What had I done?
Chapter 37
My fists pounded on the door. "Daddy!" I screamed as loud as I could. I yelled and thrashed against the door, hoping Daddy would hear me and come.
"Daddy!" Pain erupted in my toes as I kicked against the door. I didn't care. I needed Daddy. We had to stop Brendon before he went to the police.
The door clicked unlocked and then swung open. Daddy stood on the other side. "What's wrong, angel?" His eyes swept past me to the open window.
"Brendon was here," I gasped.
Anger fumed in his eyes. "What?" He scanned my body. "Did he hurt you?"
I didn't know why, but my head moved up and down in a nod. "He kissed me like you said he would." I wrapped my arms tight around me. "He stole more of my journals."
"More?" He clenched his jaw. "You had more?"
I pointed to the closet. "There's still a few more. But, Daddy, he has about twenty of them." That was two years of my life he had. I had no idea which years they covered, but that really didn’t make a difference – they were all damaging.
He took me into his arms and stroked my hair. "How far did he go with you?"
"Not far. I stopped it before it could."
"That's my good girl." He kissed me on the forehead and hurried to the closet. "Where are the journals?"
I pointed to the hole in the wall. He tensed next to me.
"How many more are there?"
"About a dozen," I whispered. “I think.”
He reached inside as if to start grabbing the journals, but I stopped him.
"Daddy, that's not important right now. I think Brendon is going to the police."
All the color drained from his face. He ran his hand over his head. "Okay, here's what we're going to do. You're going to get all your journals out from the wall. Tear the thing down if you need to."
"Okay," I said, heart pounding. Why had I been so stupid? I'd put me and Daddy in grave danger.
"I'm going to get Brendon before he makes it to the police station."
"Do you really think you can get there before he can?"
"Yes. He's on foot." He put his hands on my arms. "You did good, Cora, by getting me. Just get the journals out and then grab the emergency bags from the hall closet. It has everything we'll need."
"Need for what?"
He ran his hand down the side of my head. "To get away and never look back."
I wrapped my arms around him and tried to push down all my feelings inside. My lips still burned from Brendon’s kiss. Jenna’s laugh flashed through my mind, and I had to shove it away with everything else. They couldn’t be in my life. "I'm so sorry, Daddy."
He held me tight. "I know, angel. It's going to be okay. Daddy is going to fix everything. You'll be safe. I promise."
He gave me another kiss on the forehead before he left and a calm washed over me. Daddy and I could survive this together. We always did.
As Daddy peeled out of the driveway, I went to work. If I paused for even a second, I’d think about all the things he’d do to Brendon, and I couldn’t afford to do that. It would weaken me.
I found an ax in the garage and ripped open the wall. It hurt my back, but I pushed through the pain. There was no time to waste. I had to retrieve all the journals before Daddy got back.
Drywall dust scattered in the air. I coughed and waved it away. After I tore off the last piece, I saw at least twenty journals jammed inside. All of them were filled with words. My words. Sorrow, happiness, pity, joy, regret, love. Every emotion possible weaved through those pages, telling my story. My journey. But it was about to end. No one could know. Every single page had to be burned to ash.
I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a trash bag, and threw the journals inside. I dragged the bag out into the hall and into the entryway – it hurt too much to lift it.
Before I went back to my bedroom, I checked the driveway to make sure he hadn’t come back. In my room, I retrieved all the hidden bags with my treasures I’d collected, like the invitation to Jenna’s party. There was a bag taped under the dollhouse, one under the night stand, and one under the bed. To anyone that found them, they’d just been random, meaningless items. But to me, they were everything.
I added the presents I received for my birthday to the bags. With a sigh, I ran the pendant back and forth on the chain before I decided to take off the necklace Brendon had given me and put it in a bag. I didn’t want to give Daddy the opportunity to rip it from my neck.
Before I left my room, I remembered the cash I’d earned from my cell phone bands. I’d put it in a plastic storage bag, cut a slit in my pillow, and stuffed it inside. There was no way I was leaving that behind. Maybe it would help with an escape in the future.
After I got it, I retrieved the emergency bags from the closet, took them to the entryway, and stuffed my treasures into the bottom of the emergency bag that had my name on it. It was packed with new clothes, bathroom supplies, and books.
I was about to close it when I remembered Noah. I couldn’t leave without him. He was my only friend left.
“Noah!” I ran toward Daddy’s bedroom. “Where are you?”
I searched all the dresser drawers, under the bed, and then went to the closet. Daddy wouldn’t be coming back in, so I threw everything out the door and scrambled through his stuff. In the bottom right corner, I found Noah buried under some old clothes.
Noah coughed. “So happy you found me. It’s quite dark and boring in here.”
With a kiss on the trunk, I ran down the hallway and gently placed him in my bag. I’d barely zipped the bag closed when the door burst open, and Daddy rushed in.
"Did you find him?" I asked.
He nodded, his frantic eyes scanning the entryway. He wasn’t his usual, composed self. "Let's grab all these bags, put them in the van, and get out of here." He lightly squeezed my arm. "You did good, angel."
With a tense smile, I grabbed the first bag and heaved it over my shoulder. Wincing through the pain, I carried it outside and threw it in the back of the van.
My breath hitched, and I pressed my palms against the floor of the van for support when I saw Brendon laying up front near the bucket seats, not moving.
Daddy threw another bag in the back.
I pointed at Brendon. "Is he?" I couldn’t stand the thought of him being dead, no matter what he’d tried to do.
"Just unconscious." He rubbed his jaw. "The boy put up quite the fight."
Relief ran through me. "You aren't going to kill him, are you Daddy?"
He sighed, fixing my braid so it rested perfectly along my right shoulder. "You didn't really leave me a choice, angel, now did you?"
I stared at the concrete beneath my feet. "He's nice, Daddy. He doesn't deserve to die."
He kissed my forehead, the cold causing me to cringe. "Oh, my Cora. Always looking for the good in people, even if there isn't any to be found. This boy tried to take advantage of you. He tried to expose our family and get me thrown into jail. He tried to tear us apart. Is that what you want?"
"Of course not, Daddy. That's why I yelled for you." But that didn’t mean Brendon deserved whatever was coming for him.
"That's why you're my good girl," he said, looking me in the eyes. "Now, let's hurry and get the rest of the things. I'm sure it won't be long until the boy's parents notice he's missing."
Together, Daddy and I filled the back of the van with the rest of the bags. He switched out the license plates. Why did he have those? Was it part of his emergency supplies? Did he know that one day I’d screw up and we’d have to run?
He helped me into the passenger seat and went back into the house to do a run through. He didn't want to leave anything behind that marked who we were. He’d probably see the mess I made in his room, but hopefully he’d be too anxious to care.
I stared at Brendon, unconscious on the floor of the van. Did he deserve to die? He had seemed so nice. I always felt safe in his arms. He treated me so kindly and knew how to make me laugh. He was gentle and warm.
But he'd deceived me, just like Daddy said he would. He used me and took my journals. He'd probably stolen the first one and used it as an excuse to get close to me. Each blackmail had required his involvement. He'd shown up the night I needed to break into the school and offered to go with me. He'd tricked me into kissing him that night. He'd held me close under the counter, long after the janitor had left.
Then he demanded money. Made it so we had to spend night after night in his room, making the cell phone bands. He probably hadn't planned for Jenna to get involved, but it would have been suspicious to say no to her.
He'd been the one who wanted to watch the blackmailer get the envelope. But it was him. He'd never been knocked out. I never saw a bump or bruise on his head. He'd given me an expensive necklace for my birthday. He probably used the five hundred dollars to buy it. No way he could afford it otherwise.
He probably knew the man who'd approached me. Probably paid him to pretend to watch me. I'd never met his father. When I’d looked at their family pictures, all I could see was Daddy. I strained to remember, but Daddy’s face showed up in every family picture. Could the man be his father? Helping his son trick a girl into liking him? His eyes had looked familiar – they were the exact same shade of blue as Brendon’s. That man had to be his father. Brendon had been so protective of me. He and his dad were sick.
I'd been so stupid. It had been right in front of me. All of a sudden the day my journal was stolen, Brendon had inserted himself into my life. Paid attention to me when before that day, he hadn't said a word to me. Not even looked in my direction.
He'd put his hands on me. Kissed me. Took away my innocence. I'd bought into all his lies and let him trick me.
I slapped my palm against my forehead. How could I have been so stupid? So foolish? All for a boy? A deceitful, sick, twisted, boy.
The van door slammed shut.
"It's all set," Daddy said, starting the van.
Tears ran down my cheeks. I tried to wipe at them, but they kept on coming. I needed to be strong for our family.
Daddy reached across and put his hand on my cheek. Just like Brendon had. I yanked away from him, my eyes darting down to Brendon.
He sighed. "He can't hurt you anymore, angel. You're safe. Daddy will take care of you."
Orange flames licked the side of the house. The front window and door were ablaze with light, our home burning before my eyes. The fire expanded to the garage. Smoke rose into the night sky, telling the world of my betrayal. Of my sins.
"Did you set the house on fire?" I asked, staring out the window in horror. Sally was in there. Daddy had the key to the basement, so I couldn’t have gotten her. But I figured the next family would find her and love her. Except, all they’d find was a wrench since I’d torn her to pieces. How could I do that to my best friend?
"I didn't have time to rid the house of our fingerprints." He pulled out of the driveway and stopped in front of the house so we could watch the flames rise. "I poured gasoline everywhere and lit a few matches."
“Why didn’t we leave the journals in there to burn?” I held in the sobs that rattled my chest.
“We can’t take the risk of firefighters putting out the fire before every page has had a chance to burn.” Daddy glanced at Brendon. “He has your other journal. We need to get the truth out of him, and then we can burn them all.”
"Oh, Daddy.” I pressed my hand to my cheek, the heat burning my skin. “I've let you down. I did this to our family."
He patted my leg. "We all make mistakes. It's how we handle them that proves the type of people we are." He pointed at Brendon. "Angel, you could have let him run. Could have let him do more than kiss you. But you were strong. You got me and let me handle the situation. You fixed your mistake."
I knew he was right, but I couldn’t shake the guilt that had set fire to my body. I was like the house, slowly disintegrating into nothing. "It's not fixed yet." I wasn’t sure if it could ever be truly fixed.
He put the van into drive. "Then let's go fix it."
He sped away from the burning house.
Chapter 38
Daddy drove us to an abandoned field in the middle of nowhere. We took the bag of journals – plus the ones in my backpack – and threw them in a pile. We poured gasoline all over and lit a match.
"You do the honor," Daddy said.
I held the burning match in my hand. The second it landed on the pile, I’d be gone. No more Cora Snow. The flame burned dangerously close to my fingers. I was being wiped from the face of the earth.
With a forced smile, I threw the match on top of the pile, and the flames erupted, lighting up the night. It hurt to see my entire life being erased. There was nothing left to prove my existence in the world. I watched for a moment before I went back to the van.
Brendon grunted as I was closing the back doors.
A part of me wanted to rush to him and make sure he was okay and see if we could figure a way out. But Daddy would be furious if he caught me near Brendon, and I knew from experien
ce that Daddy could overpower me. Best to go along with it for the moment.
"Daddy!" I yelled. "He's awake!"
Daddy opened the side door of the van and grabbed Brendon by the ankles. I thought he’d pick him up, but instead he yanked him out of the van and dragged him toward the fire. I couldn’t do anything but watch. Daddy came to a stop near the blaze and let go of Brendon's legs.
"What are you going to do to him?" I asked, staring down at Brendon's bloody body. I hadn't noticed before that Daddy had beaten him badly. It had been so dark in the van.
"Add him to the fire," Daddy said like he was just another journal.
My eyes widened as I clutched the collar of my shirt. "Don't burn him!"
Daddy's eyes snapped to mine. "Why not?"
I stared down at Brendon. He was sweet and kind. Loyal and compassionate. He had an impure mind at times, but didn’t all guys?
Dying by fire. That seemed so cruel and heartless. I wasn't heartless. Neither was Daddy. I folded my arms close to me and rubbed my arms. "Does he have to die, Daddy? We can just leave. You burned down the house. We burned the journals. No one will ever find us."
"What about the stolen journal?"
"Oh." I bit my lip. That was still out there. "I was supposed to get it back from the person next Friday."
"We can't wait that long." He stepped back from the flames that had grown larger. "We need it now."
I welcomed the heat from the fire. It matched my insides. "We can search his room. Before we leave. I bet it's there."
Daddy looked at me. "And if it isn't?"
I glanced at Brendon. "It has to be. Where else would he hide it?"
Brendon moaned, turning his head in the dirt. His eyes fluttered open. His lips were dry, and blood caked the side of his head.
Daddy had tied up his hands and feet so he couldn't escape. He knelt in the dirt in front of Brendon and slapped his face. "Where's the journal?"
Brendon turned onto his side, spitting blood out of his mouth.
"Where's Cora's journal?" Daddy yelled.
Brendon squinted at Daddy. "What?" His voice was raspy and dry.