by Emily Minton
Jase squeezes my shoulder. “Now, you listen to me. You are an adult. You have a home and a good job. You are a respected part of this community. There is nothing your parents can do to you. They’re just talking out their asses. You’re going to have to ignore it. Don’t let them get to you, and by all that’s holy, don’t try to run away. If you do, I will find you. You’re too important to this family, for us to lose you.”
I take a deep breath and blow it out. “There are things you don’t know about me. If those are told to the judge, he might agree that I’m unstable.”
He looks at me with puzzled expression on his face. “What things?”
The thought of telling anyone about my past makes my stomach roll. I never wanted anyone to know about the things I’ve done or the things that have been done to me.
I know I need to tell them everything, but I am so scared they will turn away from me that I can’t seem to make my mouth work. I’m trying to work up the courage to share my darkest demons when Jase grabs my hand. “Darlin’, you said there were things you needed to tell us. I think now is the time for telling. I know most of it already, and I can guarantee you that it doesn’t change the way I feel about you one fuckin’ bit.”
“What do you mean?”
He looks away, a splash of red covering his cheeks. “When I helped you move, do you remember the box that got left in my truck?”
“Yes,” I reply quietly as blood pumps loudly in my ears.
“Do you know what was in that box?”
I nod, remembering the fear I felt when I realized it was missing. The one box that should have never left my sight was the only box that didn’t make it to my new place; the box full of my journals. “Did you read them?”
He remains silent, and his non-answer is answer enough. “You read them. You read my journals.”
“Shit, Bethany, I didn’t realize what they were. When I looked in the back of my truck, they were all scattered about. I picked one up, opened it…” His voice trails off.
“What did you read? Tell me, what do you know?” I ask frantically, resisting the urge to run out of the house and away from the man that knows all about my past.
He shakes his head, deciding not to answer my question. “I didn’t tell Julie. I figured, since the bastard is dead, she didn’t need to know. But now, I think you should tell her.”
Oh God! He knows; he knows how sick I really am. I try to jerk my hand from his, but he won’t let me. “No, I’m not letting you go. I’m gonna hold your hand the whole time you talk.”
I stare up at his face, barely making his features out with tears filling my eyes. “I can’t. I just can’t.”
“You can tell me anything,” Julie says from across the room.
I look toward her and shake my head. “I love you. You are the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had. I couldn’t handle it if you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.”
Julie gets up and walks to us. She places her hand on my cheek. “Bethany, you are my sister. I promise you that no matter what you tell me, I will always be right by your side.”
I take a fortifying breath and blurt out my secret, knowing that it will all come out soon anyway. “When I was thirteen, I had an abortion. I didn’t want the baby, but I didn’t want to kill it. I wanted to give it up for adoption, but Mother wouldn’t even consider that, so I had the abortion.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, Jase pulls in a breath. Guess he didn’t know about that?
I look toward Julie and whisper. “I couldn’t get past it. I just could not forget that I killed my baby, so that’s when I tried to kill myself the first time.”
“The first time?” she asks, tears streaming down her face.
“That time, I just took pills. I don’t think I really wanted to die. It was later, when I cut my wrists that I was ready for it all to end.”
“Oh my God,” Julie whispers. “You never told me. You never told me any of this.”
I look into her eyes, and I can see the hurt she feels. “I never told anyone. When I was younger, my parents wouldn’t let me. I wasn’t even allowed to tell the counselors that the hospital forced me to talk to. As I got older, I tried to forget that it ever happened. Talking about it just made it hurt worse.”
“Who was the father?” Jase growls, standing up from his chair.
“What?”
“Who was the father, Bethany?” he asks. His voice is a mixture of anger and compassion.
My heart starts to race as my head grows dizzy. “It doesn’t matter.”
“The hell it doesn’t! Tell me who the father was,” Jase shouts.
My body starts to shake, and I pull my hand away again. “No, please don’t make me say it out loud.”
He holds onto my hand, anger still radiating from him. “Tell me.”
My vision starts to go fuzzy, and suddenly, I am stuck in the past, reliving my pain.
It’s the second day in a row I’ve woken up sick. What is wrong with me? I start to think maybe I should go to the doctor. I feel like I have the flu, but I’ve never known the flu to only be for an hour or two in the mornings then go away. I walk downstairs to the kitchen and see Lorraine, our cook, making breakfast.
“Hi, Miss Lorraine. Where’s Mother?” I ask her.
“Hi sweetheart. She’s in the sitting room,” she says kindly to me as she bends her head and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “She’s not in the best of moods, so you may want to stay clear of her today.”
“I can’t. I need to go to the doctor. I think I’m getting the flu,” I say and I give her waist a tight squeeze.
I walk out of the kitchen, listening to Lorraine hum as she rolls out dough for biscuits. The sound makes me smile; I often wish that she were my mom.
I make my way to the sitting room and see Mother sitting on the loveseat drinking tea. “Mother, can you take me to the doctor’s office today?” I ask her timidly.
“What on earth for? So you can spout off some more lies about your brother?” she says without looking at me.
Her words cut me to the quick, the same way they always do. When I told her Dean raped me last month, I was sure she would believe me, but she didn’t. She slapped me and said her son would never do such a thing. If I slept with Dean, it’s because I tempted him, and it was my fault.
“No, it’s because I’m sick,” I say, looking down at my hands.
She raised her eyes look at me. “What’s wrong this time?”
I shrug my shoulders. “I think I have the flu, but I’m only sick in the mornings. By nine o’clock, I feel fine.”
Her face turns red, and her hand starts to shake so hard that coffee sloshes over the rim. “How long has this been going on?”
“For two days.”
Mother sits her coffee cup on the table and fists her hands. “You go to your room and stay there. I will be home in a few minutes.”
“I’ve got to go school.”
“Do as I say.” She doesn’t say anything else as she stands up and leaves the room. A few minutes later, I hear the front door slam. I run to the window and watch her climb into her car, and then I run up to my bedroom and let my tears fall.
I hear Mother’s car pull into the drive thirty minutes later. She comes straight to my room and throws a stick at me. At least, I thought it was a stick. “Take that, you little slut, then bring it to me. Why on earth a thirteen year old is having sex is beyond me. Children these days,” she says.
At first, I don’t understand what the stick is, but when her words sink in, my stomach starts to roll. No, no, no, I can’t have his baby.
I rush to the bathroom and pee on the stick. Within minutes, two bright blue lines show up on top of the test. I run back out to my mother and push it into her hands. “What do these lines mean?” She rears back her hand and slaps me in the face. “It means you’re a slut, just like I have always thought. Now, tell me who the father is. Tell me.”
I lick the blood from my lip as I lif
t my eyes to hers and give her the answer she already knows. “Dean.”
I’m brought back to reality by Jase gently shaking my arm. I jerk my eyes open and stare into his face. “I can’t tell you.”
“You have to tell me. You need to get this out,” Jase says, his voice more gentle than it was before.
“Jase, I don’t think she can do this right now,” Julie says as she grabs Jase’s arm.
He finally takes a step back, but his arms are replaced by another set, wrapping around my body from behind. “Who was it?”
As the voice registers in my head, I start to struggle. “No, no, no!”
I was so emotional, so caught up in the moment; I hadn’t even realized that Brandon had walked in the room. The man I have been in love with has just heard all my dirty secrets; well, not all, not the dirtiest of them all.
He holds me tighter, not allowing me to break away. Slowly, he leans down and whispers in my ear. “Please Bethany, tell me who the father of your child was.”
My mind wanders back to the day I told my brother about the baby, the smile on his face. Remembering the sound of his cackle sends chills down my spine and starts to pull me inside myself again. Not wanting to relive the memory, I scream out the answer they are all waiting for. “Dean!”
As soon as the name passes my lips, my body slumps against Brandon’s. A sob escapes my lips as tear after tear falls. He slowly pulls one of his arms from my waist and bends down, sliding his now free arm behind my knees. As he picks me up, he begins to whisper. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”
I can hear Jase talking, but I don’t lift my head to look at him. “We need a lawyer. Call your boss.”
I ignore him as Brandon carries me to the living room and sits down on the couch, holding me safely in his arms. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise everything is going to be okay.”
For some reason, even after everything that’s just happened, I feel safe; safe in Brandon’s arms, knowing he will let no harm come to me. This is him, the man I fell in love with just by reading his letters. This is my knight in shining armor. “Thank you.”
He places a soft kiss to the top of my head. “Any time, Lady Bug.”
I can hear Jase and Julie whispering from the kitchen, but I ignore them and burrow further into Brandon’s arms. I’m suddenly so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. They grow heavy, and each time I blink, I lose more seconds. It feels like all of my strength has been sucked away. I’m attempting to fight the approaching darkness when Jase’s voice carries into the room. “She’s fucked in the head.”
I feel Brandon’s body tense as he jerks his head toward the kitchen. “What the fuck?”
A few seconds later, Jase charges into the room with Julie following close behind. “That bitch is certifiable.”
His words cause my heart to skip a beat. I can feel the tears starting to gather in my eyes. “I am so sorry, Jase. I never should have come here. I know you don’t want your children around someone like me, and I can’t blame you. I’ll go somewhere else, and I won’t bother you all again.”
Brandon’s arms tighten around me, not even giving me room to wiggle. “You’re not going anywhere.”
Jase jerks his head toward me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re right. I am messed up in the head,” I say as I look at him, determined to meet his eyes.
It takes a second for my words to sink in, but when they do, he walks straight to me. Stopping only a foot from Brandon and I, he starts to shake his head. “I was talking about your fucked up mother, not you. Never you. The fact that she thinks she can just come in and take you away from us is fucking insane. You’re not going anywhere. I know what you did to protect Jenny. Do you honestly think I would let you walk away from us now? This is your home, and this is where you’re staying.”
“What’re you talking about? What’s this got to do with Jenny?” Julie asks.
“Do you want to tell her?” Jase asks, and then continues on after I shake my head no. “Then, I’m gonna have to. She has to know. She has to know what you’ve done for us.”
“Please, no!” I scream, fearing my best friend’s reaction when she finds out what I’ve done.
“What are you two talking about?” Brandon growls out, clearly frustrated with the secrets Jase and I share.
Jase’s gaze moves to his. “It took me awhile, but I finally figured it out. I know why she let him keep hurting her.”
I can feel the tension running through Brandon’s body when he asks, “What’s he talking about, Bethany?”
Visions of my sweet little Jenny float through my mind as I whisper. “Dean made me… he made me do things.”
“I know, baby.”
I try to pull away, but again, he refuses to let me. Held close to his body, I finally tell my deepest secret of all. “It didn’t stop when I grew up. He kept hurting me, until I moved to Cromwell.”
“What?” Brandon asks, his voice so low that I can barely hear it.
I stay quiet, not sure I can say the words out loud. Finally, Jase leaves me no choice. “You tell them why, or I will.”
Closing my eyes, refusing to look at anyone as I bare my soul, I tell everything. “I moved out the day I turned eighteen. I had saved enough money to live on my own until I started college. Luckily, that was only a month and a half away.”
Taking in a fortifying breath, I continue with my story. “I didn’t see my parents or Dean much for two years. He was gone to Duke to go medical school, so he wasn’t around, and my parents didn’t care enough to visit me. Those were the best two years of my life.”
Opening my eyes, I search the room until I see a red eyed Julie. “I loved living with you and Kristen. Having Jenny there just made it better.”
I go quiet, not really sure what to say next. Brandon gives me a little squeeze. “Finish it, baby.”
“Then, one day, Dean showed up out the blue. It was the day he met Julie. After that, everything was ruined again.” I lift my head and look at Brandon, needing him to understand what I’m about to say. “I tried to tell Julie about him. I swear I did. I just couldn’t. Every time I tried, I would freeze up.”
“I know,” he says gently, moving his hands up and down my back. “I know you did.”
Forgetting that anyone else is the room, I stay focused on him. “Before I knew it, they were married, and he was hurting her just like he did me. I tried to make him stop. I threatened to go to the police, but he just laughed. He knew that Father would get him out of trouble again. He was right. Father did. Time and time again, all of Dean’s crimes were swept under the rug.”
“I don’t understand,” Brandon asks in voice with confusion and care. “What does this have to do with Jenny?”
Even though he didn’t say it, I also knew he was wondering what it had to do with my relationship with Dean. “After they were married for a few years, Dean came to me to make a deal.”
I can hear Julie gasp before moving to stand by the end of the couch. “What did he do to you?”
I slowly turn my head to look at her. “He made me do things… do things with him. I didn’t want to, but it was either her or me.”
Julie’s face turns white as the meaning of my words sink in. “Oh my God! No, Bethany. Please tell me that isn’t true.”
“I had to protect her.” As I say the words, I feel a shudder run through Brandon’s body.
I look up and see his eyes glistening. There are no tears, but they are being held back by sheer will. “She was just a little girl. I couldn’t let her be hurt.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve left,” Julie asks through hiccupping breaths.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?” Brandon asks, his voice strained.
I wiggle in his lap until I’m facing Julie. “He said if I told you, he would do worse than just hurt you. I didn’t know if he would really do it, but I couldn’t take the chance. It was entirely my fault that you wer
e with him.”
“No, that’s not true,” Jase says, leaving no room for argument. “None of this is your fault.”
“Jase is right. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Brandon says as he leans down places his forehead against mine. “You are the bravest woman I have ever met. You’re my little warrior.”
I slowly close my eyes and let the tears fall without even trying to stop them. “I would do anything to protect Julie and Jenny.”
“I know, baby. Believe me, I know,” he whispers as he pulls back just enough to touch his lips to mine. “And, I will do anything to protect you.”
Slowly, he pulls away and settles against the back of the couch. Bringing my head to the crook of his neck, he starts to rub slow circles over my back. Within seconds, I feel my eyelids grow heavy again. This time, I don’t fight it as the blackness takes over.
Chapter Eight
The sound of the door opening and shutting wakes me up. As I open my eyes, I find myself staring at the scar on the side of Brandon’s face. It’s an angry red color, letting me know that it hasn’t completely healed. Without thinking, I raise my hand and run my finger across the puckered skin. He jumps at my touch but doesn’t move to remove my hand. “Did this happen in the accident?”
Nodding, he replies. “Yes, but I’m not sure how. I was knocked unconscious as soon as the bomb went off.”
“I’m so sorry about your friends.” I’m not sure why I say it, but I mean it just the same.
“They weren’t my friends. They were my brothers.” His is voice is rough but not harsh. It’s as if talking about them is nearly impossible, and he has to force the words past his lips.
Sitting up, I cup his scarred cheek. Repeating his actions from earlier, I place my lips on his. “I’m sorry about your brothers.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, he is kissing me, not a gentle peck but something fierce and aggressive; a claiming kiss. His lips devour mine as his tongue enters my mouth. A soft caress to the inside of my mouth has me squirming against his chest. The kiss goes on and on, leaving us both breathless and wanting more. Yes, for the first time in my life, I want a man to touch me.