Pieces of Us (Confessions of the Heart 3)

“Let me go,” she said, trying to yank her wrist from his hold. The only thing it did was make him squeeze her harder and tug her fast up against him.

For a beat, Mack squeezed his eyes closed, making a wish that he really was a dragon.

That he could fly.

That he could swoop up his mama and they could fly away to a better place.

“Told you before, I don’t want you anywhere around them. Fillin’ your head with that bullshit. Think they’re better than everyone.”

“And I told you, it’s my job. They pay me good to clean their house. Besides, they were kind to us while you were away. I’m not gonna just go and forget about that now.”

His mama’s face looked all pinched up. Eyes wide with terror.

A cruel sound came from his daddy’s mouth, one that Mack knew too well. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me, Dee? Whose fault was it that I got sent away in the first place?”

“Yours.”

Mack wanted to shout for his Mama to stop. Not to say a word. God, she knew better than that.

But sometimes his mama wanted to fight, too.

When his daddy reached back his hand and smacked it across her face, the crack of it like thunder in the air, Mack felt it like a need.

The fight.

The ugliness burning bright.

This bottle of fury that lit.

Maybe he couldn’t fly, but he was sure he was breathing fire.

His mama shrieked, trying to guard her face, but it was too late.

She fell to her knees, and his daddy knelt down in front of her. “Don’t fuck with me, Dee. You know what good that’s gonna do you.” He grabbed her by the hair, and she yelped as he dragged her across the dingy floor. “Told you to stay away from those rats. Know it was them. They’re gonna get what’s comin’ to them soon. Soon as I take care of you.”

That was the last straw that Mack could take.

He bolted through the door, praying for courage. For strength.

If he could fly, he would be doing it then. He rushed his daddy, clawing at him, throwing kicks and fists. “You asshole!”

His daddy tossed him off like he was smacking at a gnat, and Mack’s butt hit the floor with a thud, his attack not even making a dent. His daddy only grinned.

Coldness crawled down Mack’s spine. A bucket of ice dumped down his back. He started to scramble back, shaking, though the words were coming free. “I hate you. Mama hates you. I want you to die. I’ll kill you myself.”

Laughter rolled from his daddy, pitch black. “That so, boy? Seems you need to be reminded of who you are. Of who you belong to. You actually think you’re somethin’? Somethin’ special? Those pig fuckers fillin’ your head with lies, too?”

His daddy snatched him off the floor by his shirt, and Mack kicked to get free, but his feet weren’t even touching the ground. “Get mad, boy. Show me that hate. That’s what I like to see. You are just like me.”

Mack was almost crawling along the lawn as he moved beneath the moon. His body screamed in agony, but he didn’t care. He had one place to be. Lights burned from the bottom-floor windows of the pretty white house, and he kept to the outskirts of the property, feeling like a dirty thief like his dad, but he didn’t care.

He needed to see her.

He got to the base of the tree, and he bit back the groans that wanted to rip up his throat as he began to climb. He got to her window.

Her light was on, and he could see her at her desk, talking to herself with a big o’ smile as she drew something in a notebook.

He smiled in return, his chest feeling light. Funny in a good way for the first time that day.

He tapped at the window, and she shrieked, her hands flying to her mouth before she was laughing and crawling to her window, setting it open wide. “Mack! What are you doin’, you crazy boy? It’s too late to play. I already brushed my teeth.”

“I just needed to see you.”

It was the truth.

He already felt better.

“Well, you better get in here.”

He wasn’t gonna argue. He slid through, glancing at the drawing she was making of a dragon and a bird. Somehow, it made his smile go sad. She flipped the notebook closed. “Whatcha wanna do?”

Cry.

Die.

Scream.

All of the above.

He flopped on the floor. “Just wanna lay here with you.”

She snuggled down next to him. “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

“Yeah.”

He jerked up to sitting when the door flew open. Mrs. Lane stood in the doorway, her hand on the knob and her eyes narrowed thin. Mack’s heart ran harder than it ever had. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be in that tree, let alone come in through her window.