I peered out the window on my side and nodded absently. Summer was in full swing, and tourists had invaded our town. “She has some minor bruising on her arms. She came down to speak to the officers and the prosecutor…”
I’d seen her briefly yesterday. She’d told me she didn’t want to press charges; she tried to explain that she’d just been scared, and I couldn’t exactly blame her. I’d gone too far. Not that it changed anything. I hated her with every fiber of my being, and I told her I didn’t want to see her again. At long last, she appeared to understand.
I explained things as well as I could to Ethan, without going into too much detail about the hell that had brought us here.
Darius and Jake knew my brother and I had grown up in foster care—and that we’d had a less-than-loving mother before then—and Darius had pieced together a few more fractions of the aforementioned hell over the years. I remembered one time, we’d been in the sauna after a heavy workout, and he’d nodded at one of the scars on my back and asked, “Single-tail whip?”
Just a short sentence.
I’d nodded with a dip of my chin.
For months, that barely there conversation had been on my mind, until one night we were at the bar, and I couldn’t prevent myself from saying, “It was just one time. My mother preferred to burn me or use a leather belt.”
Despite it being out of the blue, he hadn’t needed more than a couple seconds to understand what I’d been talking about. He’d inclined his head, said, “I figured it was something like that,” then bought me a drink.
He’d made it clear that he wouldn’t pry, but he was there if I wanted to talk.
I never wanted to talk.
That said, I couldn’t live like this anymore.
“I have to get my shit together.”
“I’m kinda good at helping others with that.” Ethan threw that out there.
I nodded once, appreciating his offer. It was his gym Darius and I sparred at, and he joined us sometimes when we switched things up and lifted weights.
“Any word from Ryan and Jake lately?” I knew we wouldn’t hear from Darius until he was stateside again. He went off the grid completely when he worked.
“Yeah, sure. They try to email once a week, as I’m guessing you know.”
I did. It was a thing in their family. With two autistic sisters who depended on structure, it was vital that no one made any promises they couldn’t keep, because the girls waited by the phone or the computer. Therefore, the “try” in try to email once a week was very important. So Willow and Elise didn’t bank on a response.
“They’re doing all right,” Ethan went on. “Ryan’s gone dark for a while, but he gave us a heads-up.”
Damn it, I was failing Jake. I’d told him I’d be there for his sisters.
“Do you have plans next weekend?” I wondered. “Maybe we could do a barbecue at your folks’ place. I’d like to see if there’s anything I can do for them.”
“Yeah, no, that sounds good.” He nodded. “Ma worries about you sometimes.”
That made me feel uncomfortable and humbled at the same time.
Five
Three days later, I felt marginally better.
I’d changed my cell phone number, I’d finished polishing and treating the hardwood floors in the downstairs of my house, and I had spoken to the principal at school. Phil had assured me that everything would work out fine, but that I’d be on administrative leave until my record had been expunged. And since it was the middle of summer, I wasn’t looking at more than maybe an extra month away from work.
I could live with that. My attorney didn’t foresee any problems.
At the moment, the only niggling worry I had at the back of my mind was that Pipsqueak hadn’t visited in a long time. She’d stopped by the new house twice right around the time I moved in, but then I’d gone off the deep end and hadn’t been outside much.
I talked to Mary yesterday to confirm our barbecue on Saturday, and she’d given me the girls’ numbers—while assuring me they were doing okay.
Still, I kind of missed Pipsqueak’s random musings and brutal honesty.
After covering my shiny floor in cardboard, I decided to take a break. My next task involved tearing down the old molding and fixing the uneven surfaces in the walls. I had the plaster already, but I’d have to go out tomorrow to buy paint.
I grabbed a Coke from the fridge and then stepped outside on my patio in the backyard. I’d been more of a front porch guy in the past, but my new one was too small and had only one step. A couple lawn chairs in the backyard would have to do for now, though I had plans to make something grander here soon. Some of the boards on the deck needed to be replaced.