Page 153 of Split You Open

They all call out for me. I can hear the ache in their voices and that makes it all so much worse. They heard everything, just as I had. Slipping into the woods to listen to Dad and Ledger’s conversation had been the worst mistake I could’ve ever made.

I thought Ledger’s betrayal was bad enough, but learning about Dad’s?

Bile burns in the back of my throat as I think about all the times Ledger listed out. I remember them as clear as day. They were some of Dad’s hardest lessons. Turns out they weren’t lessons at all.

Dad had tried to kill me.

Rhett was right, he is a psychopath.

My heart is quivering in pain, ready to fall apart once I’m in the safety of my own room. But rather than stomp up the back steps, my feet lead me around the cabin, toward the front of it.

On this side of the cabin, the woods feel darker.

The shadows here call to me—they’re a comforting oblivion just within reach.

I slip into them and instantly feel a little better. In the house, I would’ve been trapped inside four walls, leaving me claustrophobic. Out here, with the fresh air, cold breeze, and just miles of space for me to think? This is so much better.

Kind of feels like Gnarly Pines is rubbing off on me.

I stomp through the woods, keeping in sight of the trail cameras so the guys feel more at ease with me taking off on my own. At least they can watch me and make sure I’m safe. That thought brings a short-lived and small smile to my face.

Before coming here, I would never have considered doing something like this. I believed I could handle things on my own. That I didn’t need anyone else watching over me.

But being here has taught me to be more open-minded. To let people in. So yeah, I’m hurting and running from the guys but I’m not disappearing. Not with them.

The first crack in my heart splinters as I realize the “trust no one, lean on only yourself” rule was taught by the very man who tried to kill me.

No, not just kill me.

That lesson was taught by a man who tried killing me multiple times. My own dad wanted to see me dead.

Tears burn in my eyes as my footsteps quicken. As the first one leaks free, I take off into a sprint. I can’t outrun the pain in my chest but I’m going to try.

I feel like the world’s biggest idiot.

Dad had saved me from Uncle Al and because of that, I must’ve blinded myself to the true person he was. I loved him so much that even through his toughest lessons, I just assumed he wanted what was best for me and that was how it had to be. How could I have been so easily fooled by the person I spent the most time with growing up? How have I been this naive?

My stomach rolls and my footsteps stagger.

With a shallow breath, I try to focus on being in the moment. Dad’s not here to kill me now. And try as he might, he hadn’t been able to see it through in the past.

I’m okay.

I’m fine. I…

I choke on the sob that wants to be set free. I won’t make a sound. I won’t give voice to my grief.

I will be okay.

I will.

Trust no one but yourself… I should’ve known that lesson was just another test. Dad was right, the only person I can truly count on is myself.

Except, can I even do that?

If I can be so foolish as to not see Dad’s lessons for what they truly were, can I trust my own judgement?

“Oh, cariño… you know what running does to me…”