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“Not particularly.”
He froze only briefly on the second knot before loosening it and setting her free. She rubbed her wrists, though the fabric of his ruined shirt had been remarkably gentle on her skin, and then pulled up her bodice to cover herself.
“Then how can I ever assure you that whatever it is that ails you from your past will have no effect on how I feel about you.” He rolled to the side and wrapped his arm around her. She found his warmth exceedingly comfortable. Was she truly about open her closet and reveal her skeletons? To tell him the truth about something she had vowed never to speak of?
The butterflies in her stomach said yes.
“I was sixteen,” she started. “Jordan was thirteen. My father had just gotten paid, and so of course as soon as he got home, he poured himself a whiskey and went straight to the computer. Online gambling sites. Two hours later, he was half a bottle in and his paycheck was gone. I don’t really know what set my father off that night. Maybe Jordan laughed at the wrong time, or walked to close to him, but the next thing I knew, my mother was screaming, and my father was ramming his fist into Jordan over and over again.”
She realized her body had begun to shudder when Tristan squeezed her side. She took a breath and continued, “Jordan’s face was so bloody, and he wouldn’t stop hitting him. My mother and I screamed, begged for him to stop, but I knew he wouldn’t. I could see it in his face. He was going to kill Jordan and my mother couldn’t do anything to stop him. The moment I realized that, the image of my father’s gun flashed in my mind. I knew where it was because he would take it out every now and again, just to hold it or have it near, sometimes while he watched television, sometimes when we were eating dinner, so I knew it was in the closet, top shelf. I don’t even remember how I got up there so fast, but suddenly it was in my hand and I had it pointed at my father’s head and I think my mom shrieked at me, but I couldn’t hear. Not her. Not the squishy thuds of my father’s punches. I didn’t even hear the gun go off. But finally…finally, he stopped….”
She inhaled a breath. Blinked. A set of tears tumbled from her eyes. “Finally, he stopped.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Tristan muttered.
“I realize now that my mother went into shock. She fell to her knees and just stared at my father’s body. She wouldn’t move. Didn’t check on Jordan. I had to call for the ambulance. I remember shaking her for what felt like forever before she looked at me with these hollow eyes. I remember despising her in that moment. I hated her for her inaction. For not doing something about my father before a sixteen-year-old girl had to take matters into her own hands; kicked him out or taken us kids away somewhere safe.
“Looking back, I realize there was nowhere for her to go. She relied on my father financially. Our grandfather was a prick, too. I’m pretty sure she suffered from abuse all her life. People like that have a hard time breaking away from the cycle of abuse because they don’t see it the same way an outsider might. Live with something long enough and it becomes a normal way of life. I don’t hate her for that. I just feel sorry she couldn’t imagine a better life for herself.”
Tristan wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “I’m sorry for what you had to do, but…”
She cringed under the weight of that but.
“I’m proud you had the strength and courage to do it.”
She blinked up at him. Of everything he could have said, she hadn’t expected that. “You haven’t heard the rest.”
His brows arched.
“When the police came, my mother took the blame. She went to jail, Jordan went to the hospital, and I was placed in temporary foster care. My guardians let me visit her, though, and I promised her I’d come up with the money for a good attorney. She didn’t know, but I was actually going to confess once I knew Jordan would be all right. But the case never came to trial. A week before Jordan got out of the hospital, she committed suicide.”
“Fuck. June, I’m so sorr—”
She placed her fingers over his mouth. “I’m not done.” Her voice quavered.Have to get through this. “Jordan got better physically, but mentally…I don’t know…he was different. I don’t think his brain was the same afterward. We bounced around foster care for a year, but Jordan was developing behavioral problems that none of our guardians could deal will. Finally, at seventeen, I went through the emancipation processes, meaning I could live as an adult and be a guardian for my brother so we could stay together. I did my best to take care of him, be a mom for him. I did all right for a while. I worked two jobs to keep a roof over our heads, but he started doing drugs and dropped out of school…”
She took a breath as fat tears spilled down her cheeks. “I was so busy, I didn’t see how bad it was. I didn’t know until they found his body in an alley. He had overdosed on heroin.” She couldn’t stop a sob from clawing through her throat. Tristan wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. “I killed my whole family!” she wailed.
“No,” he cooed. “No. You were a child, forced to grow up faster than you should have. Your mother made her own choices, and for that matter, so did your brother. You can’t hold yourself responsible for their choices.”
“I was supposed to take care of him.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You did the best you could, even if you couldn’t save him in the end…” Tristan scrubbed his hand down his face. “Just like I couldn’t save my father in the end.”
Wiping her tears away, she sat up and faced him. “I knew you were blaming yourself for that.”
He nodded. “Undoubtedly. We have both been hard on ourselves over circumstances that were out of our control. Did you believe I would think differently of you when you told me this?”
She shrugged and lowered her gaze.
“I only admire you more now.”
Her eyes flashed open.
“You went through something traumatic and tragic, but instead of letting it crush you, you used your experiences to help others going through similar situations. You’re not only brave, strong, and dedicated, you’re resilient. I could not want you more.”
June wiped away one last tear. “Really?”
“I have a question, though.”
