Fallout (Crank 3)

eyes and a killer smile. The guy

who came to Grandfather’s door

looked like a derelict. I clung

to Aunt Cora’s skirt as if I were

sewn to the hem. It was a safe

place I knew all too well.

Hey, sis! Trey planted a big

not-brotherly kiss on her lips.

Then he spotted me. Autumn?

His voice held need, and his

eyes were steel. Come to Daddy.

Daddy? No. I didn’t have one

of those. A big ol’ twister

started up in my gut. I backed

behind Aunt Cora, burrowed

deeper. Trey reached for me.

“Noooo!” I screamed, and

turned to run. But not quick

enough. Bark-rough hands

clamped around my waist.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

Here now, soothed Trey.

I would never hurt my little

girl. He petted me as he might

a nervous pup, but that did little

to quell the tornado inside me.

SOMEHOW HE DIDN’T GET

That, despite his probable

relationship to me,

I wasn’t his little girl.