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“Shut up,” he snarls at me, his hand moving faster, as Mother's sobs get louder.
“No use crying, you stupid bitch, this is all your fault,” he yells at her. I feel like my skin is going to split under his friction, but I have to hold in my tears. Mama’s already broken, I need her to see that I can be brave.
“Maybe next time you will think before you let our son roam the streets like a reprobate.” He throws the cloth hard at the water, making it splash into my eyes and sting them, before he storms out of the bathroom. Mama waits until his footsteps fade before she quickly tugs me out of the water.
My body shakes uncontrollably from shock but I still don’t cry. Mama needs me to be strong.
She wraps a towel around me and I flinch when it scrapes my skin.
“I’m sorry, Richie,” she whispers, patting me dry as carefully as she can. “I’m so sorry.” She kisses my head and sobs into my hair. “I should never have let you out alone, look at your skin.” Her fingers tremble as she touches them to my red raw shoulder.
“It’s okay, Mama.” I place my hand over hers to try and make them stop.
It’s an hour later when Father calls me down to do my homework, Mother is sitting and sewing, and Father is reading. My skin is still inflamed and sore from the boiling hot water and when he looks up from his page so calmly, I have the undeniable urge to make him hurt.
Mama must notice because she shakes her head at me subtly in warning.
“You will read from the Bible until bedtime, son. After being in the company of the Hopewell boys, you must be cleansed. Their father is a crook and their mother is a whore, we will all pray for those poor boys’ souls tonight.”
I don’t feel I need to pray for them, their mother may be a whore and their father a crook, but Todd and Kaleb smile and they play. They scrape their knees and get mud on their shirts.
What I actually pray for that night is for God to strike my father and free me and Mama from his hell.
On the ride back to Manitou Springs, I stop at a different gas station and use the restroom to flush the remaining particles of Eddie away.
It’s dark when I get back to the club, and I ride straight past the clubhouse where the music is thumping and the firepit is blazing.
Inside my cabin is pitch black, but I can sense that she’s here. Her scent lingers in the air around me.
I find her in my bed, and I want to tear out the comfort that seeing her there puts inside my chest. But something else tears it out instead, and my forehead creases when I realize she isn’t lying as peaceful as she usually does.
Her face looks disturbed, and her blonde hair sticks to her cheeks. She’s struggling to breathe and I find myself crouching beside her, so my hand can cradle her head.
She’s dreaming, and I’m gonna have to wake her from her nightmare because her torment is slicing through me like daggers.
“Rogue,” I whisper, not wanting to shock her. Her head shakes and her body tenses.
“Rogue.” My voice gets louder and sounds a lot more desperate.
She’s panting now, trying to draw breaths that her lungs can’t quite reach.
I lean in closer, my lips almost touching her clammy skin as I whisper her name into her ear.
“Grimm.” Her head turns toward me and her eyes open wide. Big blue crystals lighting up the dim room surrounding us.
“It’s just a dream,” I tell her, but my words don’t take the fear from her face. Vulnerability doesn’t suit her, and it pains me to see.
My hand moves to her mouth and I swipe my thumb across her lips, hoping it will stop them from trembling. Her pupils are fixed on mine, drawing me in with a force that I’m powerless to.
“Stay with me,” she begs, and just the weakness in her voice has me moving, my body slipping onto the bed to rest beside her. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hold her tight to my body.
The closeness doesn’t seem to affect me. It never does with Rogue. With her, I never seem to be close enough.
Lying beside her still fully clothed, with her flustered cheek resting against the leather of my cut, I breathe her in through my nostrils and let my lips press into the top of her head. There's no space between us, and I like that. It makes me feel whole.
“Promise me you’ll stay,” she says sleepily, her hand clutching at my T-shirt.
“I’ll stay,” I promise, feeling her body relax a little. It makes me panic that she’s giving me that control. Rogue is so strong, so independent, and yet here she is needing me.
