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“Not a chance. We have the whole bottle to finish.”
“Thanks for being such a good friend. I’m so glad to have you in my life.” She smiles brightly, then brings her attention back to the TV.
Tomorrow. I’ll confess tomorrow.
* * *
“Come out here, girl.”
I tuck my head between my legs and hold my breath so he can’t hear me from inside the pantry. “You’re gonna regret not listening, you little brat. Get out here now!” His footsteps pound through the kitchen. My body shakes, and I’m scared he’s going to figure out where I’m hiding. “You little bitch. When I find you, I’m gonna make you wish you were never born.”
I count to ten in my head. Counting always makes me feel better. It helps take my mind off the fear. The pain in my back from where his belt ripped at my skin. The floorboard to the first stair creaks. He’s headed upstairs in search of me. I count to thirty, open the pantry door, and rush toward the sliding glass door. I don’t look back and skid to the ground. Pushing the loose board in the fence to the side, I crawl through.
My knees are covered in mud. I haven’t stopped holding my breath. The door to the playhouse creaks open, and I crawl inside. I look around, wondering why the house is shaking. It’s then I realize I’m the one shaking. I tuck my knees into my chest and grab for the blanket folded up in the corner.
Wrapping it around me, I use it as a fortress. I tell myself nothing outside can get to me. I’m safe. I hum a song Mommy used to sing to me until my head finds my small pillow. Closing my eyes, I pretend she’s here with me.
“Hey, Mackie baby, want me to sing you a song?”
“Yes, please.”
“Close your eyes. Rest. I’ll protect you.”
The sweet melody of her voice comforts me. I sing along, my voice soft and tired. I want to stay awake. Pretend she’s still here with me. I squeeze my eyes harder. I can feel her hand holding mine.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, Mackie. Rest now. I have you.”
* * *
I stir in my sleep, tears burning my eyes. The Fergusons were my saving grace. Whether they knew it or not. The reason I probably lived to see the next day after crawling through that fence.
Aunt Karen was adamant about leaving the second I was released from the hospital. She wouldn’t even let me grab anything from the house, saying she would replace all my things. The clothes I had on were a clear indication I wouldn’t miss anything. The only person I reached out to was Hannah. It was the only number I knew by heart. She broke down when I explained what happened. Why I had to leave. But I was so secretive about the abuse at home, there was no way for her to know the consequences. I only shared what I had to.
We kept in touch over the years. Kip would drive her up to my aunt’s when he was home from college, and we’d spend long weekends together. She would share how she was still in love with Levi. How she was going to go into law like her dad.
We both went off to college. My aunt promised me a better life, and she gave it to me.
I wipe at my tears and inhale a ragged breath. The burning gets worse, and I rub at my eyes. My face is on fire. A loud boom sounds and the couch shakes beneath me. I sit up and choke on a cloud of smoke.
“What in the—?” I cover my mouth. Another wave of retched coughing restricts my airways. I stand, searching for Jenny. “Jenny!” I call out. “Jenny!” A crackling hiss rips across the ceiling. Flames explode from the entryway of the kitchen. The house is on fire. “Jenny!” I yell in panic. The smoke sends me into another coughing fit. Where is she? What if she fell asleep in one of the bedrooms upstairs? “Oh, God.”
I can’t leave her up there. I rush toward the stairs. A blast radiates from the kitchen, the pressure throwing me sideways. My shoulders and head slam into the hard wall, and I drop to the ground. I try to lift my head, but the impact of the fall makes me dizzy.
“Jenny,” I croak out. I can’t get air into my lungs. Another explosion ruptures through the house, and I duck, covering my head as shards of wood shoot around me. I cry out when something stabs into my leg. A seared splinter sticks out from my thigh. I grip it, howling out in pain.
Angry stripes of orange and red coat the ceiling. I stand, but it’s too much. Falling back to the ground, the fire rages behind me. Using all my strength, I crawl to the front door. Reaching up, I throw two hands around the knob to yank the door open. A shrilling scream reverberates up my throat as heat sears into my palms, and I pull back. “Help!” I scream. It only makes it harder to breathe. I look around, hoping to throw something into the bay window.
Faint sirens sound in the distance. “Oh, thank God,” I cry. They become louder. Through the window, red and blue strobes light up the night sky. But any sliver of hope I had of getting out of here alive is stolen when a beam from the ceiling comes crashing down over me.
Chapter19
Ben
“And then thisasshole was like, you owe me a beer for—”
The fire alarm goes off, cutting off Mitchell’s ridiculous story. The crew is up and manning their positions. Like clockwork, we jump into the truck within minutes. Over the intercom, Janette blasts the type of fire and location. I hop into the passenger seat and pause. That address sounds familiar— “What the fuck?” I reach over and check the GPS tracker. “That’s Makayla’s father’s house.” I slam on the dash. “Go! Fucking go!”
