Good Girls Stay Quiet

by Jo Cassidy

  "The journal!" Daddy slapped Brendon hard across the cheek. My hands flew to my mouth in shock. He really was capable of hurting someone else. My stomach flipped at the sight.

  "I." Brendon licked his lips. "I don't have it."

  "Liar!" Daddy punched him in the stomach. I winced and wrapped my arms around me.

  Brendon grunted in pain, curling into a ball.

  "Daddy." I didn't like watching Brendon get beaten. He’d made a mistake, but there was still good in him. I’d seen it.

  Daddy's eyes snapped up to me. "We have to find that journal, Cora. We won't be free until we have it." Daddy squeezed Brendon's knee like he did mine when he wanted the truth. "Where’s the journal?"

  Brendon screamed out in pain. I yanked on my braid as the nausea rose inside. I am strong. I am brave.

  "Where is it?" Daddy asked.

  "I don't have it." Brendon’s eyes found mine and my heart melted. "Cora. Please. Don't let him do this to me. I didn't steal your journal."

  "Don't lie to my daughter." Daddy punched him in the stomach again, and I couldn’t take it anymore. If Daddy hurt me, oh well. It was worth it to end Brendon’s suffering.

  I dropped down next to Brendon. I remembered the day we first spoke at the pizza place. He looked at me like I was any other normal girl at the school. His smile held so much sincerity and life. "Why did you steal it, Brendon? Just to get close to me?"

  Brendon squinted up at me. His eyes were swollen, masking the soft, calming blue. "I'd never steal from you." He licked some blood off his lip. "I'd never hurt you, Cora. Remember that."

  My heart twinged. Daddy went to hit Brendon, but I held up my hand, shifting my body so I could block Daddy from Brendon.

  I placed my hand on Brendon's cheek and turned his face to mine. "Brendon, I want the truth. I know it was you. You stole my journal and used it to get close to me. Please, just tell us where it is. You don't want Daddy to get mad."

  Brendon scoffed. "So this isn't him mad? How can you defend him? He's turned you against me."

  "No." Daddy stood, shoved me away, and kicked Brendon's side. "You are trying to turn her against me! I love Cora."

  "So do I!" Brendon yelled.

  My breath caught in my throat and the fire in me exploded, sending heat coursing through my veins. He loved me?

  Daddy sneered. "You don't know what love is! You're sixteen!"

  Brendon glared at Daddy. "Doesn't mean I don't know love, sir. I'm capable of loving someone and treating them right. Unlike you."

  Daddy kicked him again.

  "Brendon, please," I pleaded, tears dangerously close to the surface. He was just fueling Daddy’s rage, and I wanted Brendon to be safe. "Don't say things like that. Daddy does love me. . . .”

  Brendon looked at me, the anger drifting away. All his compassion and tenderness soared back in. "No, he doesn't. He hurts and abuses you. That's not love, Cora. That's obsession and control."

  I shook my head, trying to keep his words from staying in my mind. "No. You're the one obsessed with me. Stealing my journal. Showing up at my house in the middle of the night. Making your father follow me around."

  "Cora, go to the van and get my toolbox from the back," Daddy said, his chest heaving in and out. "We need to get the truth out of him." When I didn't move, he shouted. "Now!"

  I scrambled to my feet and ran past the fire to the van. Opening the side door, I pulled myself in and reached for the toolbox behind the driver's seat. It was heavier than I was expecting. I dragged it away from the chair and toward the door.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a book under the driver's seat. I reached my hand underneath, wrapped my hand around the hardback case, and took it out.

  "My journal." I ran my fingers along the top, the indents from the blue and pink swirly design brushing against my skin. The ribbon tucked inside showed how I’d been so close to finishing it. Relieved, I rushed out to Daddy. "I found it! Brendon must have had it on him, and it fell out during the drive."

  Daddy's eyes widened when he saw it. "That's good. Throw it in the fire and let's get out of here."

  The relief inside faded. The journal had been behind the toolbox. The heavy toolbox.

  "How could it slide under there?" I ran my fingers along the pink pages of the journal and noticed a dark brown spot on the corner. I flipped through the pages. Almost all of them had a dark stain, damaged from a liquid. "Coffee."

  I'd spilled Daddy's coffee in the van weeks ago.

  "It didn't slide under there," Brendon said. "I didn't have it on me because I didn't steal it." He sounded so sure, not even the slightest hint of deceit.

  "Cora, throw the journal in the fire," Daddy said, pointing his finger at the flames. "We need to get going."

  "Daddy?" I furrowed my eyebrows together. "This has been under your seat for weeks." He'd stolen my journal? Daddy? I shook my head. Impossible. "No. You wouldn't do this."

  He threw up his hands. "Of course I wouldn't! If I knew you kept a journal, I would have confronted you." He motioned to Brendon. "He probably stashed it there. I wasn't always in the van, Cora."

  It was true. Multiple times I had gone to the van and Daddy had been inside the school looking for me. Or Brendon could have broken into it at night.

  Brendon hated Daddy. He probably wanted to frame him and get me to turn on Daddy.

  “Hate to interrupt your thought process.” Noah’s voice rumbled in my head. “And you know I hate to side with the boy, but between him and Daddy.” His tone went down and slightly snarky on the word. “I’d have to choose the boy.”

  I shook Noah from my head.

  "How could you do this to me?" I asked Brendon. All those nights we spent in his room, laughing and having fun, making the cell phone bands, creating memories. Did they mean nothing to him? "I never did anything to you."

  Brendon grunted in pain. "I didn't, Cora. Your dad is lying to you. You can't trust him."

  "I can't trust you." I couldn’t trust anyone. I lifted the journal, ready to throw it in the fire.

  "Stop!"

  I whipped around, startled at the voice.

  "Mr. Mendoza?" I shook my head, surprised at what I was seeing.

  Mr. Mendoza stepped out from the darkness and cautiously approached the fire, his hands held out in front of him. "Cora, put down the journal."

  Behind him, another man stepped forward.

  Perv man, with the blue eyes similar to Brendon’s.

  Brendon's father.

  Chapter 39

  I gripped the journal tightly, staring at the creepy man. "What are you doing here?"

  The man's wide eyes passed over the scene. His soft voice came out a little shaky. "We came to help you." Horror flew into his eyes when he got a good look at Brendon.

  I pointed the journal at him. "Help me? You've helped your son torture me."

  "Who is that man?" Daddy asked, standing so strong that it made him almost appear taller than the other two men, even though he was the shortest of the three.

  The man looked between me and Daddy, and then glanced up at Mr. Mendoza. The man's confused eyes finally landed on me. "My son?" He shifted uncomfortably. "You mean my nephew? I lied about that. I don't have a nephew on the basketball team."

  Brendon smirked. "Thank you, Captain Obvious."

  "Not your nephew." I pointed at Brendon. "Your son. You've been helping him. Pretending like you're some perv man. But now I know the truth."

  "What?" Brendon asked.

  "What?" the man asked at the same time. "I'm not that young man's father. The first time I saw him was at the basketball game."

  Brendon tried to sit up but was in too much pain. "I know who my father is, you know, since I've lived with him my whole life." He nodded his head at the man. "That's not him."

  "Stop lying to me!" I yanked at my braid and pounded my shoe against the dirt. "Why does everyone lie to me?"

  “We don’t,” Sally and Noah sang at the same time.

 
"He's not lying," Mr. Mendoza said, his deep tone rumbling through the darkness that surrounded us. I could see nothing past the fire. "This man is not Brendon's father."

  "How would you know?" I asked, glaring at him.

  Mr. Mendoza sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Because he hired me to investigate you and your father."

  "What?" I asked, squeezing my journal. Why would they want to do that?

  "What?" Brendon asked, intrigued.

  "What?" Daddy asked through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, this just got good,” Noah rasped.

  “Shh!” Sally said. “I’m trying to listen.”

  Mr. Mendoza put his hands on his hips, pushing his jacket back. A gun sat in a holster at his side. "I'm a private investigator."

  "You're a school counselor," I mumbled, my hands loosening around my journal. It slipped a little in my fingers.

  "No." Mr. Mendoza stood comfortably, unlike anyone else there near the fire. His slacks, T-shirt, and blazer suited him. More than a dress shirt and tie ever did. "Your principal owed me a favor, so he let me pose as a counselor so I could get to know you. You're the only student I ever saw."

  Brendon squinted at Mr. Mendoza. "No way that man's a guidance counselor." The faintest smile touched his bloody lip. "Although, with muscles like those, I'd go to any college he'd want me to."

  I paced along the dirt. "Stop! All of you!" What was happening? Who were these people? What did they want from me?

  I'd made the biggest mistake of my life going to public school.

  "Cora, throw that journal into the fire and let's go," Daddy said, his tone gentle and encouraging. At least, that was what he was trying to do, but I knew him better than that. He wanted to destroy the last piece of me.

  Mr. Mendoza rested his hand on his gun. "You're not going anywhere."

  "Is that even your real name?" I asked him. "Mr. Mendoza?"

  He nodded. "Ford Mendoza, P.I."

  "That's the coolest name," Brendon said. He grimaced as he tried to sit up again. "Could one of you gentlemen help me out here?"

  Mr. Mendoza moved toward Brendon, but Daddy pulled out a gun from his back and pointed it at him.

  "Don't move," Daddy said.

  I frowned. "Daddy? When did you get a gun?" I couldn’t believe he had a gun. I’d never believed he’d go to that extreme.

  "A long time ago, angel," Daddy said. "To protect you."

  "You're not her father!" the other man yelled.

  I took him in. He was taller than Daddy, and a little bit stronger. Daddy had an air about him that made him command the room no matter what. But this man, he reminded me of someone who’d want to be a part of the room, a part of the group – not controlling it. He radiated a calm and peace I’d never seen before in a man.

  "Who are you?" I asked. My mind flooded with questions and confusion. I just wanted it all to end. I wanted my life back.

  The man flushed. "My name is Troy Kennedy."

  I stared at him, expecting more.

  Daddy waved his gun at Mr. Mendoza and Troy. "If either of you want to live, you'll leave right now!"

  In a swift motion, Mr. Mendoza retrieved his gun from the holster and pointed it at Daddy. "We're not leaving her with you. In fact, we're not leaving without Brendon or Nora."

  "Cora," I said. Kind of a bad moment to forget a girl's name.

  Mr. Mendoza kept his gun trained on Daddy. "The name you were born with was Nora."

  Noah chuckled. “Oh, I called that one, didn’t I?”

  My head spun. The flames from the fire lit up the dark night but did nothing to warm me. I was out in the middle of an abandoned field with four men I couldn’t trust. No one knew where I was or who I was with. I sat down before I passed out. "What's going on?"

  "I'll kill you!" Daddy yelled.

  "Not before I kill you," Mr. Mendoza said. Composure sat in his eyes, contrasting Daddy's storms.

  "Nora, I know this is all very confusing," Troy said with his hands held out. "But please let me explain."

  "Cora!" I clutched my journal close to my chest and rocked, a few notes of a broken melody escaping my throat.

  “Breathe, Cora,” Sally said with a sweet tone. “Remember, you’re in charge of your life. Not these men. They can’t control you.”

  Daddy stepped forward, kicking up a rock and some dirt. "You will say nothing to my daughter!"

  "She's my daughter!" Troy yelled, shoving a finger into his own chest before he pointed at Daddy. "You kidnapped her!"

  Even though I was sitting, I swayed, the earth pulling at me. Nothing made sense. Spots danced in my vision.

  "Cora?" Brendon whispered next to me. "Cora? Are you okay?"

  I turned to him, taking in his bloody body. He was beaten and bruised. Ruined by Daddy. He’d been hurt, and it was all my fault. How could I have let that happened to him? "I'm sorry, Brendon."

  Brendon gave a small smile. "Mr. Snow is smart." He glared at Daddy. "If Snow is really his last name." He scrunched his face. "In fact, I don't even know your first name."

  "It's Gary," I whispered.

  Daddy shot the gun off in the air, getting everyone's attention. My hands flew up to my ears. I’d never heard anything so loud before. My heart pounded against my chest.

  "I will not have any of you telling my daughter lies. Filling her head with your nonsense. I raised her and took care of her. I fed her and loved her when no one else would."

  "That's a lie!" Troy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "If I'd known she existed before now, I would have raised her."

  I rocked where I sat on the dirt ground, holding the journal and my legs close to my chest.

  Brendon scooted closer to me. "It's okay, Cora. Take deep breaths."

  Brendon. Still being kind to me. Or was he just using me? Manipulating me? That was all boys did. According to Daddy. I couldn’t get him out of my head.

  "It's going to be okay," Brendon whispered. "Gary can't hurt you anymore."

  I backed away from him, kicking up dirt. I'd had enough. I couldn't take any more of the lies all the men were feeding to me. I wanted answers.

  Running toward Daddy, I took him by surprise, wrapped one arm around his waist, and tackled him to the ground. We rolled along the dirt with me clawing for his arm. We finally came to a stop. I yanked the gun from his grip and pointed it at him as I stood back up.

  "Back away from me," I said with fury.

  Daddy did as I asked. For the first time, he looked afraid of me.

  I pointed the gun at Mr. Mendoza. "Slowly lower your gun."

  Raising his free hand in the air, Mr. Mendoza leaned over and placed his gun on the ground, never taking his eyes off mine.

  "Now, kick it toward me."

  He kicked it, sending it to my feet, dirt flicking into the air along the way.

  I pointed the gun at Troy. "Untie Brendon."

  I waited until Brendon was completely free and then made all of them kneel in front of the roaring fire.

  "I want answers," I said. "And you're going to give them to me."

  I took a few long, deep breaths, calming myself. I was in control of my life. In control of the men before me.

  "Or else we're all dying tonight."

  The four of them stared at me, wide-eyed, but said nothing. I was through with being a toy or pawn. I was through with men trying to take advantage of me.

  Daddy had always said I couldn't trust men.

  Each of the guys in front of me had to earn my trust if they wanted to live.

  Chapter 40

  Brendon seemed like the easiest to start with, so I pointed the gun at him. "Did you steal my journal?"

  He shook his head, his terrified eyes not wavering from the gun. "No, Cora. I promise."

  "Do you know that man?" I pointed the gun at Troy.

  He shook his head again. "Never met him until tonight." He shrugged. "Aside from the basketball game where he stalked you."

  "I wasn't stalking her," Troy said, his gaze turn
ing toward Brendon.

  "Shut up!" I yelled at him. He quickly snapped back to me.

  I took a few deep breaths. I needed to remain calm and focused if I wanted answers. I didn’t want to lose control like Daddy always did. Anger made someone think and act irrationally.

  "The only person who can talk, aside from me, is the one I'm speaking to. Right now, that's Brendon." I looked at him. "Why did you start talking to me at school?"

  Brendon licked at the dried blood on his lip. "You want the truth?"

  "Yes. That's all I want. No lies."

  "Fine." He sighed. "I saw the way your dad treated you at the pizza place. You were terrified of him. I could see it in your eyes."

  "So you decided to become my friend?"

  Brendon stole a glance at Daddy, who was next to him. "I wanted to make sure you didn't get in trouble." A small smile appeared on his lips. "Plus, I've always thought you were cute, but I didn't know how to talk to you. You were so shy and kept to yourself. This gave me a good reason to talk to you."

  "Why did you want to help me find the journal?"

  "You're pretty," Brendon said.

  Troy smiled, which for some reason made me mad. I glared at him, wiping the smile off his face.

  "Why were you so nice to me?"

  He sighed. "You're beautiful, okay? I like you. I helped you because I like you. That's all there is to it." He looked at Daddy again. "Well, besides the fact that I was worried about you. Your dad hurts you. He's not a good man. You can't trust him."

  “I’m starting to like this kid,” Noah said.

  “Same here,” Sally said. “Not bad for a teenage boy.”

  "Yes, she can!" Daddy yelled.

  I took a step toward Daddy, pointing the gun at him. "I said no talking! Only Brendon can talk right now. I don't care if any of you like or don't like what he's saying."

  Daddy opened his mouth, but quickly shut it when he looked in my eyes. He wasn't the only one who brewed storms.

  I shifted back to Brendon. "So, you don't like my dad, you like me, and just wanted to help?"

  "Yes," he said. "I promise."

  "You weren't using me for sex?"