“I told you my father abused me, and I told you what triggers me, but…” My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. “I um… it’s time for you to maybe know why they trigger me.”
Connor takes one of my hands and Kaleb takes the other, trying to lend me their support, and I continue to stare out the window. I watch a small brown bird, I have no idea what kind, flit from branch to branch of a maple tree, camouflaging in and out within the fall leaves.
“The stairs are probably obvious… he used to drag me down them from the second floor to the basement,” I inform them, fighting for detachment. To make this a statement of facts, because I’m tired. I’m tired of its control, and I’m tired of feeling. “The basement is where everything happened.”
Out of the corners of my eyes, I notice the guys tense. Donovan leans forward, elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped together, and there’s already a strain in his jaw. Nolan sits back, legs crossed, arms wrapped around himself, fortifying himself for what’s to come. Felix looks up at me, support and sadness weighing equal measures on his face, and the subtle golden glow of his skin mixes with the golden sunlight peeking through one of the bay windows.
I feel like I’m standing on the edge of no return, and it frightens me. Not only does telling them mean they’ll likely never look at me the same, but it also makes it real. Really real. Once I give it words, then I can no longer pretend it didn’t happen or that it can’t hurt me anymore.
The details will have to wait for another day, but I can give them the facts. I’ll give them the truth.
Releasing a shuddering breath, concentrating on the bird, I confess, “I hate baseball bats because he used to beat me with them until all my bones were shattered. I hate large knives because he used to cut me hundreds of times --he even cut off a few fingers. And I hate… fire… because he…” I start to break down and have to fight for the last words. “He’d… tie me down… and he… lit me on… fire.”
Closing my eyes, I let the tears drip down my cheeks and wait for their reactions.
“Son of a bitch is dead,” Donovan shouts, kicking out his chair and storming out of the house. The door slams so hard behind him that the windows rattle, and within moments, there’s a crashing sound of something breaking.
It starts.
Connor feels like stone beneath me, and there’s a deep rumbling growl emanating from his throat. He releases my hand so he can pick me up, Kaleb’s hand also dropping away, and I startle as he deposits me onto Nolan’s lap, who barely has enough reaction time to uncross his legs and open his arms to catch me. There’s a hardness in Connor’s amber eyes, as he runs a hand over the top of my head and then charges out the front door.
I cry harder when I hear the muffled yelling, followed by a hard slam of a body being shoved against the side of the house, and for a few moments, we sit in silence, listening as Donovan and Connor start to beat the crap out of each other.
“I shouldn’t have said anything,” I whimper, dropping my face into my hands.
Nolan pulls me tight against his chest, and there’s a wetness to his voice when he replies, “No, Callie love, you did the right thing. I’m so… fuck, sorry seems…”
“Inadequate,” Felix offers, with a sad, knowing tone.
Kaleb takes the longest to respond, and I peek through my fingers to see his expression-- furrowed brow, eyes glassy, his jaw trembling as he presses his lips together.
“That’s what you saw?” he whispers, folding his hands in front of his mouth.
“I saw the fire,” Felix answers.
Before anyone can figure out what to say next, my aunt opens the front door, frowning with her mouth open like she’s about to say something, when she witnesses us all huddled in the living room.
“I see,” she states cryptically, her eyes narrowing to protective mode squint, then closes the door behind her.
“What exactly did she see?” Felix asks, standing up and walking over into the kitchen. “I feel she saw more than we think she saw.”
“What?” Nolan replies, his bafflement taking over some of his melancholy.
With a harsh sniff, I look up at the window Felix is standing by just in time to watch both Donovan and Connor whiz past as if something picked them up and hurled them across the yard.
“Holy shit!” Felix exclaims, pointing outside. “Mildred just air-magic bended them like they were nothing.”
“It’s not…,” Kaleb begins to correct, then shakes his head. “I give up.”
I release a soft chuckle, then my aunt walks purposely past the window, fists on hips, and I wonder if I should go out there.
Felix leans forward and pokes his head through the window. After a moment, he pulls back inside with some mischievous humor in his eyes.
“They’re getting chewed out by Mildred,” he reports with delight. “The words‘I’m disappointed in you’ were used. Is it too much to ask for a rolled up newspaper to bonk Connor on the nose? Just once.”
More wet laughter, which was clearly what Felix was aiming for, his natural smile having hints of relief.
My aunt comes back into the house alone, even going so far as to brush her hands back and forth as if to wash herself of the situation.
