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He dabs antiseptic to the cuts on the bottoms of my feet and I groan. He doesn’t answer me, and I watch him while he works. I’ve known Ethan most of my life but right now, it’s like I’m looking at a different man.
“Ethan?”
He still doesn’t look at me until he’s finished his work. He stands, throws away the used bandages, then collects the discarded wrappings on the nightstand and throws those away too. He then picks up the bottle of aspirin. It’s new and I watch him peel off the protective sticker before he drops two onto his palm and holds them out to me.
“Here.”
I look at them, then up at him, realizing how thirsty I am, and, at the same time, how nauseated.
“What kind of painkillers did you give me?”
“They helped you sleep. It was bad, Phee.”
“You should know. You beat me.”
“Like I told you that night, better me than my father,” he says with a glance at the door. “Take these. I don’t want to give you more of the other one.”
I hear what he said then. That night. Not last night. “How long have I been sleeping?”
“Three days.”
“What? Where are we?”
“Boston. Here, take these. We need to talk before he gets here.”
“Who?”
“Who do you think? Take them or don’t, I don’t really give a fuck. It’s not my problem.”
I take them from him before he pulls his hand away, but he has to help me with the water.
“Where is Silas?” I ask against my better judgment.
He snorts, shakes his head, and sets the water down. He walks to the window and looks out over the city. Although he seems so lost in thought, I wonder if he is seeing anything at all.
“What I did the other night, I didn’t want to do that to you. You know that, right?”
I don’t actually so I don’t answer. Because I remember the look on his face as he wielded that belt.
He turns to me. “We all have to do things we don’t want to do, Phee. You included.”
I feel that ring burn a circle around my finger and a building sense of urgency has me trying to swing my legs out of the bed.
“Where is Silas?”
“He’s in jail, and he’ll be in prison soon, where he belongs. He’ll be prosecuted for arson. He burnt down your fucking house, and you’re asking where he is? You give a shit? Still? Christ. Maybe my father was right about you. All those years I tried to protect you from him, and this is how you repay me?”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, I can’t think about the house being gone, not now.
“We don’t have much time, so I’m going to lay it outfor you. You’re going to need to do what I say, or I won’t be able to protect you.”
“I don’t understand.” I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, my head hurts, my body aches.
“We’re eloping. Tonight. You and me.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I need you to get up, get showered. Wash the stink of him off you because I can’t fucking stand it for another minute.” He stalks toward me, seeming to grow angry at the thought. “Do you know I took care of you these last few days and all I could see was him fucking you. It’s all I could smell, the sex. How could you?” he asks, his lip curled, and I wonder for the first time if all these years he’s hated Silas more than he’s ever cared about me.
