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She doesn't say anything. She won't even look at me. Tears just continue to fall from her eyes as she wraps her arms around herself as if holding her broken pieces in place.
My chest aches looking at her like this.
“I'm gonna leave you so you can get cleaned up. I’ll be right outside the door if you need anything. Just come out when you're ready.”
I second guess it but then I kiss the top of her head hoping it offers some type of comfort and then I walk out.
I sit outside the bathroom door with my knees up and arms resting on them. I don't hear any movement for a while and then I hear water running. A moment after the door slowly opens. I jump up to my feet and see Lana standing there. She’s still nude but her long hair covers most of her breasts.
“Let me grab you a shirt,” I say, walking over to my bureau. I hand her one of my long sleeve shirts. She slips it on and stands there looking at the ground.
I don't know what to do, but my body is burning with the need to comfort her. I don't know if she’ll reject me but I'll try anyway. I walk over to her, pull her into me, wrap my arms around her shoulders and head, and embrace her deeply. She doesn't react at first but then her arms come up around me and she tightly hugs me back. Then the crying starts again. She’s crying so hard into me my body is shaking along with her. Her knees buckle and I feel the full weight of her. We both sink to the floor and I let her cry on me until she passes out from it.
She’s been so resilient and maintained courage despite everything that has happened to her. I found myself admiring her, but tonight seems to have really broken her. It hurts so damn much to see her like this and to know I’m also to blame for her torment. I hate myself for allowing this. I know I have to set things right, no matter the consequences. I owe it to her.
I carry her downstairs and gently lay her on the mattress, cover her with blankets and return upstairs to wait for Cole.
I sit on the front porch fuming. The frigid winter air is not enough to cool me down. I will sit out here until that asshole shows up.
Two hours later Cole finally returns. He gets out of his truck and starts walking over.
“How’s it going, little bro?” he happily says.
I say nothing. I stand and stride over to him and punch him straight in his smug face.
“Oh, fuck Cal! What the fuck! You trying to break my fucking nose?” he shouts holding his bleeding nose.
“I’ll break more than your fucking nose if you ever do that shit to her again!” I grip his shirt and yell into his face.
“The bitch tried to kill me, again! With your fucking gun. Little cunt actually pulled the trigger. That’s the second fucking time she tried to kill me. I had to teach her a fucking lesson,” he yells back.
Fuck. My gun. She must have seen it one of the times she was in my room.
“I don’t give a shit, Cole. With the sick shit you’re doing to her, you fucking deserve it.”
“Ya know, I don't think I like what's going on here Callum. Why you so soft for her, huh? You got feelings for the whore?” he scoffs.
“No.” I lie. “Any sane fucking person wouldn’t be okay with this bullshit. And now you're burning her? Like Dad used to do to us. How can you do that? How can you do any of this? What is this really about, Cole? Is this some twisted form of displaced aggression? You can't confront Dad, so you unleash your demons on an innocent girl instead?” I shove him back hard, nearly causing him to fall on his ass. “She doesn't deserve this Cole! Fuck! I don't deserve to live like this either! This needs to end.” I storm away from him and I hear him get back in his truck and take off.
Over the next few days Cole keeps his distance and hasn’t gone down to see Lana which I'm thankful for, and I continue to tend to Lana’s burns twice a day to avoid possible infection. I should have some sort of degree for treating cigarette burns with how many times I’ve had to treat my own.
“I’ll be honest, they don't look great but they’re getting better. Your body is doing its job and healing them. Unfortunately, they will scar,” I say as I gently rub aloe vera on the last burn.
“Cole said your dad had done the same to you,” she says in a low voice while carefully putting her flannel back on.
“Yes,” I simply state.
“I don't understand how someone could do that to a child, to their own child.”
“I don't understand how someone could do that to anyone,” I say with disgust. “Honestly, after a while, I became numb to it.”
“That’s terrible. He did it that often?” she asks.
I stand. Lana’s eyes follow me and watch me stretch my shirt up and over my head. We both stare at each other for a moment before I sit down in front of her in nothing but my gray sweatpants and socks.
“These.” I lean back a little and point to a cluster of circular scars on my stomach. Then I continue pointing to various areas on my body that are scarred with the reminder of the abuse. Higher up on my abs, my chest, my arms and one on my collarbone. Unlike Cole, I don't have any tattoos, just these damn scars. I have considered covering them with ink like Cole did with his.
Lana’s fingers reach out and touch one of the marks on my chest. Her fingertips on my bare skin sends a warmth bursting beneath my flesh and throughout my whole body. I look at her and notice her eyes filling up with tears threatening to spill.
