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“I promised you our story,” she says and I squeeze her hand letting her know I’m here.
Briar
“Take your time,” he says but I shake my head. It’s time. If we’re going to be together then he needs to know.
“I want to tell you,” my voice shaking, though I’m trying to sound unaffected.
“If you’re sure,” Kingston keeps a hold of my hand and I kind of love him for it. He’s not pushing either and I appreciate that.
“I am,” I say, nodding and checking our surroundings, “I’m ready.”
Before I start, the guys take a seat so we can order drinks, and once the waitress leaves, we urge them to go have fun. Thorn gives me a look, one that tells me he knows I’m going to tell Kingston everything, but that he’s okay with it as well.
Kingston waits patiently as I pull myself together before telling my deep, dark secrets. I’m not sure how he will react to this and that scares me. He needs to know my past so he can understand me and Thorn. I have to take that chance.
I sigh and start, “My parents weren’t nice people, mother and stepfather but Thorn’s real dad, I should say. From what I was told, my father left before I was born, or right after, not really sure on those details. Anyway when I was little they were okay, not great but not mean.
As I got older and Thorn came into the world, they started yelling at me for the littlest things, or telling me I was stupid or ugly. I was told they didn’t want me or Thorn. That we were screwing up their lives. Both were druggies and alcoholics. Here I was an eight-year-old girl, taking care of a newborn because my mother couldn’t be bothered with him. I did the best I could, but if he cried, my stepfather would come in and beat me until I couldn’t stand anymore.
One time, I left the room to go get milk for Thorn and came back to him beating my brother. The man beat a baby. Our only sense of relief was when they went out in search of their new fix. The boy next door would visit us, bringing us extra food or books. I looked forward to his visits, he was the bright light in our lives. But one day he left and that’s when my stepfather would molest me. He would do things to me, and then my mother would beat me or burn me because I was in bed with him, though it wasn’t my choice.”
Kingston wipes away tears I didn’t even realize I was crying and that’s when I start to sob. He holds me close, letting me cry it out. I haven’t had this chance ever, I never let Thorn see things get to me. I never wanted to worry him, so I always put on a brave face and took everything that was handed our way, not that we deserved it.
“When Thorn got older, his dad would try to slap him around. I would step in and take the brunt of the beatings. I always wanted to protect Thorn, always will. The same things would spew out of his mouth, that we messed up his life, or that he hated us.
After one beating, I woke up to find the asshole touching Thorn. Thorn doesn’t remember and I’m glad that he doesn’t. I hope he never does. While all this is going on, my mother would bring other men home when my stepfather was out. If they looked at me, she would beat me. When I was fifteen, I took a beating so bad that she almost killed me. But Lennon, our neighbor, would nurse our wounds and love us, he really helped us out.
One day he left, we never saw him again and I knew without him, we wouldn’t survive. The night of my eighteenth birthday, they both came home high on whatever, had several druggie friends with them, and they thought it would be fun to make me have sex with their friends. When I struggled, they burned me with hot water and then took a chair leg to me. Beat me so bad and then they left me to die.
Thorn was old enough to help me. He is the one that packed a bag for us to run. He grabbed some keys and then helped me to the car. I drove for about two hours until I had to stop. I knew they wouldn’t report their car stolen or I hope they wouldn’t because if they did, the police would figure out what douchebags they were.
To protect me and Thorn, I’ve been living off the grid so to speak. Fake ID cards, paying only in cash, taking jobs that only pay in cash. I don’t know if they’re looking for us, but I don’t want to take that chance. Though they might know because I’ve been on the news with you and Thorn has been mentioned,” I swipe another tear, “I asked you the questions I do for the assurance that you understand that I’m not with you because of the money. I love you because of how you make me feel and how good you are to my brother.
The first night I left home, I was a mess. Thorn nursed me back to help, stitching me up, resetting my nose, bandaging my burns. I don’t know if you noticed them. I couldn’t walk which made being on the run so much harder and with little money.
Once I was able to work, I worked small diners because I made tips and they paid in cash. I saved every penny to make sure we had food and bills were paid, and that Thorn could follow his dream. That’s why he told you I had lived a hard life. He found you by accident that day, he was supposed to be job hunting.”
I’m sobbing again by the end of my little speech that he holds me as I soak his shirt, comforting me.
Holden
I flatten my back against the wall and listen to her tell her horror story. Who does that to their children? Monsters. I wish it was me who was holding her and a part of me is jealous that King is. But feelings aside, she needs someone.
Kingston
I hold her as she cries and my heart breaks. At the same time I want to hunt down her parents and break their necks. How can parents treat their children so horribly?
I see Thorn peek around the corner and he frowns, heading for the booth since he sees that she’s crying. I motion him that I’ve got her and that she needs a minute. He backs off a little, leaning against the wall, watching like a hawk. He’s just as protective of her as she is of him.
“Do you still love me?” she whispers so quietly that I almost don’t hear her.
“Yes, I do, sweetheart. I am so sorry that your parents treated you like that and if it were legal, I would go throttle them. None of what you told me changes how I feel. That’s the past, I’m your future,” I stroke her hair.
“Thank you for letting me tell you,” she sniffs.
“I’m glad you did. Do you know whatever happened to the boy next door?”
“No, though I hope someday that I can find him and thank him for his generosity,” she says.
