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“They’re not,” I interrupted. “They believe me when I tell them I’m still saved by the light of God when they call me every Sunday night, or at least they did on the landline in my apartment when I lived there.”
I withdrew my arms from the table and settled my hands in my lap. I was cold but I didn’t want to put the Henley on. It would have been too much like hiding and I didn’t have the energy for that at the moment. I liked curling my fingers around the fabric, though. It was soft from being worn so often and I liked imagining what it looked like on Lincoln.
I sighed because I needed to just get this done.
“I don’t know anything about the law, but I wanted to tell you about the place my parents sent me after Ford and I… afterwards,” I said awkwardly. “I don’t even know if the place still exists, but if it does and the kids there are still going through… through what I did, someone should know about it.” I couldn’t help but snap the band on my wrist over and over.
Before I could continue, there were heavy footfalls over our heads and then the stairs were creaking. At first, I thought it was Ford coming to say goodbye to Cam but when I realized how fast the footsteps were moving, I knew I was wrong.
“He’s here,” Cam said as he leaned back in his chair to check the hallway that led to the kitchen. “He’s safe, Lincoln. He’s safe.”
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest at the look of relief on Lincoln’s face the moment he saw me as he came barreling into the kitchen. “Thank fuck,” he whispered and then, despite Cam’s presence, he walked right up to me, crouched down and pulled me into his arms. “I thought you were gone,” he murmured right before he covered my mouth with his. It wasn’t a simplegood morningorI missed youkind of kiss. It was one of ownership. Lincoln’s tongue clashed with mine as we both fought to get more of one another. It was only when Cam cleared his throat that Lincoln broke the kiss. He kept his eyes on mine and offered no embarrassed apology to Cam.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I thought about what Cam had said when I’d mentioned how good at lying I’d always assumed I was. I knew Lincoln was asking me if I was okay in that particular moment, so telling him I was fine was probably what he was expecting to hear. I lost myself in his dark blue eyes and reached out to run my fingers through his loose hair.
“No,” I responded. “No, I’m not okay.”
Lincoln actually smiled and then he straightened enough to press a kiss to my forehead. He grabbed the nearest chair and dragged it until it butted up against mine. It was only the creaking of Cam’s chair that reminded me that I’d been in the middle of talking to him. Lincoln glanced at Cam and then back at me. His eyes fell on my exposed arms for the briefest of moments before his gaze met mine.
“Do you want me to leave so you guys can talk?” Lincoln asked.
I shook my head. “Stay.” It wasn’t an order or demand, and I could tell that he knew that. I was asking him—no, begging him—to stay just like he’d asked me to stay that first day by the stream when he’d been thinking about his brother.
The day he’d fallen in love with me.
Lincoln pressed a kiss to my palm and then held my hand as he leaned back in the chair.
“I don’t know exactly where it is in Oregon, but it has several long, narrow buildings with green siding. There are windows along the top. One for each room. But they don’t open. There’s a newer-looking church. It’s white with a big steeple and I think there might be a big bell at the top of the steeple. The rest of the property looks like a typical ranch. Barns, pens, wire fencing. But there’s no cattle or horses, even though The Ranch advertises that there are.”
“The Ranch? Is that its real name?” Cam asked. He’d taken a small notepad out of his pocket and was taking notes. It made me nervous because now it was real. I’d spent six years putting that hellhole behind the wall in my mind but now it was on paper. Now other people knew. People who were stronger than me.
People who could answer all the silent pleas for help that were still coming from the kids who were trapped there.
“I don’t think so. I saw the brochure they’d give out to the parents once. I think it was called The Light of New Beginnings.”
“How long were you there for?” Cam asked.
“Um, three years. I was fifteen when my parents sent me there and got out a few months after I turned eighteen.” I was glad that Lincoln was holding my hand because I was starting to freak out as I realized what I was doing.
“He asked to leave when he turned eighteen, Cam. They kept him there against his will,” Lincoln said.
“You can’t… you can’t tell anyone I told you,” I blurted as the panic continued to build. “I don’t want to press charges or anything.” I jerked my eyes to Lincoln’s. “I can’t do it, Lincoln. I… I can’t tell anyone about The Tower. I won’t go to court. I won’t!”
He cupped my face with his hands. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Ever,” he reassured me. “Just take a few breaths for me, okay?”
I ignored his request and barreled on. “He’ll come after me, Lincoln! He told me he would if I said anything, especially about what they did to me in The Tower. He gets paid thousands of dollars a month for every kid. Maybe… maybe that shit’s fucked up but maybe it’s legal too! I don’t know! I did stuff, Lincoln. Bad stuff. No one can know. I just wanted someone to check…”
I lost the ability to speak as my lungs closed up. The vision of me in a courtroom telling a bunch of strangers in great detail what had been done to me with Father Abbott watching from his chair at the defendant’s table and my parents sitting right behind him consumed all of my senses. I could hear Father Abbott’s lawyer calling me a liar before going on to prove I hadn’t exactly been a choirboy after I’d beencured. They’d bring in other kids who’d say the program had worked and they’d been treated well. I’d have to show everyone the cuts on my arms.
“Theo!”
I knew that voice, but I couldn’t find Lincoln in the room.
He wasn’t in the room because he’d done what I’d told him. He’d gone on to build a normal life with a normal guy.
I shoved the microphone that I’d been told to speak into clearly out of my way and fell out of the witness chair in my attempt to escape the room. Heavy hands held me in place as the courtroom fell away and suddenly I was back on the cold floor of The Tower sitting naked in my own shit in the tiny room that had felt more like a coffin. The hands were still there. I fought them as they dragged me to the green room.
