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Rebecca was two years younger than Mac, but she looked worn, sad, and—it hit him like a punch to the gut—Christ, she looked just like their mother.
“Did David do this to you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral because he wasn’t good with tears and emotion. He didn’t need a shrink to tell him it was a direct result of his screwed-up childhood.
Becca wiped at her eyes with her good hand and dropped onto the lone chair on the small porch.
“It’s a long story,” she said softly.
“Story?” Mac snorted. “It looks more like a fucking nightmare.”
“Keep your voice down, Mackenzie, and please watch your language. I don’t need Liam to hear any of it.”
Mac stared down at his sister. He had no words. He wasn’t close with her husband, but he had thought that David was one of the good guys. But then, growing up, he wondered how many neighbors had thought that the Drapers were a picture-postcard American family. They sure as hell had looked the part, all those blue eyes, blond heads, and perfect features.
It wasn’t until Lila started showing bruises that people began to whisper, and when the kids started showing up to school with obvious signs of violence, word had quickly spread.
Mac knew firsthand that what you saw on the outside didn’t mean shit. What happened behind closed doors mattered.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
His sister’s light brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her skin was so pale that she looked sick. She’d always been a golden, tanned, outdoors kind of girl. All the Draper kids had loved the outdoors. Being outside meant they weren’t in the vicinity of their father’s toxicity—or flying fists. To see her like this made him sick.
His hands clenched again at the thought.
“David’s always been a little…” She paused and sighed. “Physical.” She glanced up at him, her expression fierce. “But it was nothing I couldn’t handle, and sometimes I pushed him. It wasn’t always him.”
Mac didn’t say a word. He’d heard that line of bull before—hell, he’d lived it.
“It got worse last year when he lost his job. David’s a proud man, and it ate at him that he couldn’t find anything, you know? He hated that I had to go back to work, and then he started drinking.”
“Jesus Christ, Becs. He’s a carbon copy of Ben.”
; She winced at that but didn’t offer up anything more.
“So, you’re here because he put you in the hospital?”
“I was only in emergency for a few hours, and I left…” A sob escaped. “I didn’t want the police involved, so I left.”
“Oh.” Mac threw out his hands. “Because the police are such a bad thing when someone beats the shit out of you.”
“Don’t,” she whispered harshly. “Just don’t, Mac.”
He studied her closely, watching how she twisted her hands nervously in her lap. “What did you tell Liam?”
She took a few moments, and when she spoke, her voice was tremulous. “I told him that I slipped and fell.”
“Classic.”
She whipped her head up. “What do you expect me to tell him?”
“I don’t know,” Mac shouted. “Maybe try the fucking truth? Do you really think that your kid believed you fell down the goddamn stairs? Did you believe every lie that Mom fed us? Hell, by the time I was five years old, I knew that it was only a matter of time before he came after us, and I was right.”
“David didn’t…” She swallowed and shook her head, and a fresh batch of tears slipped down her face. “David wouldn’t hurt Liam.”
“I’m sure Mom told herself the same thing. Didn’t stop Ben, did it?”
The siblings stared at each other for a long time before Becca broke the silence. “I can’t take your judgmental attitude, Mac. I just can’t.”
