His words kill the last bit of hope. What would I do? Throw the knife at him if he ran to get his gun? “Put the knife down.”
“Please don’t,” I plead with him. Tears prick my eyes at how stupid I am. At what’s to come.
The cell. I’ll be in the cell tonight. And for however long it takes for Carter to let me out after.
The heavy knife feels heavier and I want to point it at myself. A very big part of me thinks I could get farther if I would threaten to hurt myself. But I don’t want to be in pain. “Please help me,” I barely get the weak words out.
Daniel’s response is immediate, his steps deliberate and powerful. My body shakes as he comes close enough to grip the knife, but this time when he wraps his hand around my forearm, I loosen my grip and the knife falls from my hand to his other hand and only then does he let me go.
I cower like a disobedient child or worse, a dog who knows he’s about to be beaten.
Silent tears fall, and I wipe them as I listen to the knife drop into the sink before Daniel turns on the faucet to clean his cut. The cut I gave him.
“I’m sorry.” My words are choked, and I try to repeat them again but fail. My breathing comes in shallow pants. “I can’t go back. Please, I can’t.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Daniel’s voice is soft as he approaches me, but fear is the only thing I have to give him until he says, “We don’t have to tell Carter.”
His words make me stare into his dark eyes. They’re so like Carter’s. But the heat and desire aren’t there. Just sincerity.
“I won’t tell him, okay?” His comforting voice soothes the fear in me. “This will stay between us.” The relief that replaces the anxiety nearly makes me throw up.
“Why would you do that?” I question him. “I hurt you.”
“Because I would have done the same.” His simple answer is comforting, but it doesn’t give me any hope.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble my apology and have to clear my throat. I’m choking on my words. “I didn’t want to… to hurt you.”
“Why’d you have to do that?” I shake my head, wiping under my eyes. He adds, “I would have done it, but I thought you were smarter than that.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say. “I need to get out of here,” I insist, and my words bleed with despair.
“It’s better that you’re here,” he tells me. “You’re not safe at your father’s and I know Carter may not seem like the best person to you right now, but I know there’s a reason for all of this.”
“My father.” The words tumble from my lips. I’m failing him.
“You need to eat,” Daniel says, backing away from me and not acknowledging me. It’s the same thing Carter told me. I just need to eat. And obey.
“You’re going to kill him,” I say and it’s a statement, not a question. I can’t even think about eating. The thought is repulsive.
Daniel opens the fridge and ignores me, although he angles his body so he can see me in his periphery.
He closes the door to the fridge with his elbow as he twists off the top to a beer and takes a quick swig, making the dampened shirt of blood glisten in the light and that bit of red on his throat stare back at me.
I almost tell him I’m sorry, yet again. Even with knowing his plans for my father. It’s a sickening feeling to not know what’s right and wrong, but regardless, you have no choice.
The bottle smacks down on the counter and he finally answers me. “It was going to happen whether or not we stepped in.”
“What was?” I ask him in a hushed voice, cautiously, barely raising my eyes to meet his gaze. The only thing I keep thinking is that I need to be nice to him, so he doesn’t tell Carter.
“War.”
The one-word answer forces my gaze to the polished tile floor. It’s quiet while he drinks, and I clean up the mess of the cubed vegetables I won’t eat.
“You won’t tell Carter?” I feel selfish for daring to bring it back up, but I need to know he won’t. If Carter were here for that… I can’t even begin to think of what he would do.
“Look at me,” Daniel’s voice beckons and I do as he tells me. “I am not going to say a word to Carter. Not one word.” His voice is soothing, but I find it hard to be anything close to being okay.
“Thank you,” I tell him and press my hand to my face to cool it down.
He finishes the beer, all the while I stare at the spot on the floor until I turn instinctively at the sound of his name being called out by a feminine voice.