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“So, she’s like all brain damaged, huh?” Marky asked after bullying his way into the house during our second night.
Fiona always claimed she couldn’t remember her older brothers. I don’t know if that was true. She lies about her memories a lot. I think she knows exactly how she fell off the third story that fateful day.Or maybe her broken brain did mercifully remove memories of her vile brothers.
The intimidating Marky often showed up to see if we were eating any food he wanted.
Another brother named Larry insisted Fiona wasn’t genuinely sick and simply needed tough love.
When he dragged her tiny body from the house and tossed her on the front lawn, I nearly came out of my skin.
Zaja was a vindictive monster, but she mostly left us alone up on the third floor. Tormenting Fiona lost its allure at some point. We could pretend she didn’t exist except during her parties or when she had a late-night binge rant.
Here on Todd Rogers’s estate, we’re threatened by large men willing to manhandle a fragile woman. I could run interference with Zaja, but I’m unsure how to fight back against these new monsters.
I pride myself on my patience. I’m not a violent person. I don’t lash out when angry.
However, I love Fiona. She’s my best friend, sister, and daughter wrapped into one. Fiona is what kept me sane when the world ripped everything away. I will absolutely die to protect her. That day, I realized with Larry how I’d kill to protect her, too.
Not that I murdered the evil loaf. Hitting him over the head with a frying pan did little to hurt him. Sure, he wailed and staggered around the house’s front lawn. Yet, even my second swing barely dinged his fat head.
I don’t know what would have happened if Jimbo Rogers hadn’t swooped in to save us. He punched his brother, again and again, while I helped a hysterical Fiona inside the house.
“I’m dying,” she whimpered, lost in her agoraphobic panic.
Holding her against me, I felt relief at learning not every single Rogers man was an irredeemable monster.
Oh, boy, was I wrong!
Jimbo is smarter than his brothers yet filled with the same cold evil inside.
I’d been so easily fooled that first day. I couldn’t thank him enough. The hulking rich boy was our hero. I was desperate for an ally in this new place. That’s why I convinced myself Jimbo was a shield I could use to protect Fiona and me.
I pretended he was only rough around the edges, ignoring his unfortunate personality defects. Of course, his clumsy flirting could prove to be a problem. I wasn’t interested in him or any man. A failed romance stole my babies and nearly killed me. I never wanted to go down that route again.
For that next week, Jimbo joined us for dinner every night. I cooked him hearty meals. He told bizarre stories meant to prove his masculinity but mostly painted him as a bully. He would brag about scaring someone, usually a much smaller, weaker person. When he wasn’t tooting his own bravado, he was dismissing the same qualities in other men.
He claimed his brothers were losers. His father was too old. The Halvorson family were a bunch of dumb cowboys. The Jordan family were white trash. Most of his rage, though, was saved for the Steel Berserkers Motorcycle Club.
I wasn’t particularly excited to learn a criminal gang operated in this picturesque town. In Vermont, we lived in a lovely burgh full of retired city folk. When Zaja wanted to throw one of her wild parties at the Victorian, she summoned her indecent court from larger nearby cities.
In Essex Point, I never felt unsafe to shop alone. Now, I was expected to take Jimbo with me as an escort. He claimed his father insisted, yet I discovered later how it was just another chance for him to own my time.
I learned the full truth about Jimbo during our fifth dinner. He was telling a silly story about the wildlife at the nearby Turtle Cove. Fiona giggled at something he said. Normally, she sat silently as if a ghost. She feared Jimbo before I did, making me wonder what she truly remembered about her time living here.
Jimbo’s amused expression turned feral before he hollered at Fiona to stop laughing. The room fell silent. Her guide dog sensed danger. Gatsby growled a quiet warning at Jimbo. The apricot standard poodle isn’t menacing to look at, but he’ll put his body between Fiona and a threat. Right then, the dog rightly sensed danger.
Sitting between Fiona and me, Jimbo made a move for the animal. I jumped out of my chair, too far away to stop him. Fiona threw herself around the dog, taking the kick from her brother’s large boot. Gatsby snapped at Jimbo, who readied to punch the dog. Finally able to reach them, I used my body to prevent the violence from escalating.
I looked into Jimbo’s eyes and accepted he was no hero. The monster would kill Fiona and the dog without a moment of regret or shame. The only reason he didn’t hit me was I remained a conquest he hadn’t claimed yet.
That night, as I applied ice to Fiona’s bruised ribs, I realized we were in genuine danger at the estate.
That’s why I traveled into McMurdo Valley the next day without an escort. First, I locked Fiona and Gatsby inside her bedroom for their safety. She whimpered when I said I had to go out.
“Don’t leave me in the dark,” Fiona begged, worrying I planned to abandon her.
“Leaving you would destroy me,” I promised as I tucked her into bed. “I just need to figure out our next step.”
Soon, I was driving away from the estate in one of the family’s vehicles. None of the security or others questioned my request to leave. However, I assume they informed Todd Rogers of my departure. Without a doubt, I felt on borrowed time.
