All the Little Truths (English Prep 3)

I moved to climb off, but Eric’s hands pulled me back. A shiver went through me, making me tremble.

I whispered, “I don’t want my dad to know I’m home.”

I shifted on top of him, trying to calm my breathing. God. It was really dark in here. Heat started to prickle my scalp.

I’m fine. It's just Eric.

Rationally, I knew it was Eric. But the thing with trauma and fear? It had a nasty way of warping reality.

“Stop moving like that,” he rushed out, his tone low and gravelly.

“Like what?” I paused at the sound of my voice. It was all breathy sounding.

He gritted into my ear. “Like that.” His hands crushed my hips to get me to stop moving. Oh.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” I tried to even my breathing. “It’s dark in here.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“I don’t like the dark, and I don’t like—” The sound of something crashing echoed through the house, and I jumped, feeling like a child again. “I don’t like what’s coming.”

Eric’s hand unclamped from my hip, and I felt it wrap around my arm gently. His forehead rested on the back of my shoulder as he ran small circles over my skin. “Tell me what’s coming, Madeline. Why are we in here?” I wasn’t sure if he was trying to soothe me or not, but it was working a little. It worked enough for me to catch my breath.

“Remember when you asked me if the reason I shut you out so long ago was because I found our parents sleeping together?”

His thumb stopped moving for a second as he nodded against my back.

“That’s true, but—” Another loud bang from downstairs and a brief shout from my father had me jumping again, so I rushed the words out. “There’s more to the story.” I took a deep, shuddering breath before spilling. “I wanted to tell you so bad. I wanted to tell you because I knew how wrong it was that they were cheating, but I couldn’t risk you telling your mom and then her telling my dad.”

“Why?”

“Because my dad is a psycho, Eric. He hits my mom. Then he leaves for months and comes home to apologize after his time away. Only to do it again. If he found out my mom was sleeping with your dad—or any of the men she brings home—I don’t know what he’d do. He hits her over stupid shit. He just loses it.”

Just as the words came out, the shouts grew louder. They were upstairs now. I could hear the spook in my mom’s voice much clearer.

“You need to calm down. Have a drink. Let’s just talk.” She was pleading, and that was never good.

My chest was tight. My stomach filled with heavy, impending dread.

My father’s voice roared, and I clenched my eyes shut, pushing my back even further into Eric’s chest. “Does Madeline know what you’ve been up to? How you’ve been slutting it up since I’ve been gone? What a great fucking example you’ve set for my princess.”

Princess. I was the furthest fucking thing from a princess.

“What a great example I’ve set?” My head snapped up as my mom’s fear-laced voice turned into something more powerful. This is the time she stands up for herself? “What about you?!” she screamed, her voice growing raspy. “You rarely come home, and when you do, you come home to fuck me like old lovers and then throw me around like a rag doll! I am so tired of this! So fucking tired. Of course I’m fucking other men! At least they have the decency to say thank you at the end.”

Slap.

A soft whimper escaped me, and Eric was hastily moving me off his lap. I panicked, grabbing onto his arm so hard he very well could have been bleeding.

“No!” I whisper-yelled. “You’ll make it worse!”

Eric stopped as I pulled him back farther. His body heat was surrounding me, his spicy cologne invading the entire closet. “Madeline, I know I’m not your mother’s biggest fan, but I cannot just fucking sit here and listen to a man hitting a woman who’s not even half his size.”

“Eric, please!” I pleaded, pulling him back to where we once were. “I promise you will make it worse. He’ll get angrier, and he’s scary when he’s mad. His rage is endless.”

“Has he hit you?” His voice was a bite to my very flesh.

I hesitated before answering. “Once.” I pushed away the memory, my hand absentmindedly going to my cheek as if the mark was still there. “I got in the way.”