Hush Page 9

  Her sobs filled the air, and I had to fight back my own tears. “I just want to go home.” She stared at the floor with her hands at her side while Landon rubbed her back, attempting to comfort her.

  “I know you do, honey. But can I tell you something?” I touched her chin gently as she raised her attention in my direction.

  “What?” She wiped the back of her hands over her face and looked directly at me.

  “Some days, I get really sad,” I admitted and looked right into her piercing-blue eyes.

  “You do?” She let out a loud sigh, and her sobs slowed.

  “And some days, I even get kind of mad.”

  “Yeah,” she agreed while bobbing her head up and down as if she knew exactly how that felt.

  “And Miss Amie helps me when I feel that way. She’s a good listener. Because it’s okay to feel sad or even mad sometimes. But it always helps to talk about it, even when it’s hard.” I pushed her hair out of her face that stuck to her wet cheeks.

  “She helped you?” She stared at me. Into me. Through me.

  “She does. She helps me so much.” And it was the truth.

  Although I’d never had therapy sessions with Amie, we’d spent many hours talking over lunch or after work. I’d opened up to her a lot about my childhood, and she’d helped me see myself as a survivor instead of a victim—one who deserved a good life.

  Some days, I still struggled with the survivor part, but she assured me it was an ongoing process.

  “She is nice.” She looked up at her father and grabbed his hand again.

  “Think we could just go to her office and talk a little bit?” Landon looked at his daughter with pain in his eyes and worry lining his face.

  “Okay,” she agreed and began to walk in the direction of Amie’s office, pulling her father behind.

  “Thank you,” he mouthed as he brushed past me, and I gave him a small nod.

  As I stared in the direction they went, I noticed Amie standing in her doorway, and I realized she had witnessed the whole conversation. My nerves kicked up a notch, hoping I wasn’t wrong for stepping in. But the wink she gave me before turning around let me know that I was okay. What I’d done was okay, and maybe it even helped her.

  At that moment, a little confidence rose inside me, and I decided I didn’t want to go home tonight. I wanted to cuddle with Mama and tell Sara everything that had happened this morning. I needed my family right now. I also needed to show Jackson that I wasn’t a doormat, and I wouldn’t accept him treating me like one or talking to me like shit.

  I also knew I was scared to go home, scared he would find me there without any way to defend myself. And that wasn’t a chance I was willing to take.

  “Dude, your husband’s a dick. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but seriously.” Sara glanced at me with the squinty eyes she wore when she was frustrated while she pressed the soil down on the plant she just repotted.

  “I know,” I admitted and handed her the next batch of flowers that she was inserting into a bigger pot.

  “I mean, I don’t know if I buy your theory either, but he had no right to call you stupid for worrying.” She looked past me as she spoke and trained her eyes on Mama, who was sitting in a lounge chair on the back porch, far enough away so she was unable to hear our conversation, staring into space.

  “Maybe I’m wrong and it’s just some weird coincidence, but I can’t shake the feeling.” I tried to downplay my worry, but the truth was, I didn’t have a doubt in my mind—the man who tortured us as children was behind the current turmoil in our town.

  “Vicci, at the facility, said he woke up five years ago, but he wasn’t exactly in tip-top shape, so he was moved to a different rehab center. She didn’t have more information she could give me. She was worried about telling me anything, scared she would get in trouble because of privacy laws or some shit. But I mean, he was comatose for all those years, I’m sure he’s not exactly in killing-spree shape. And his brain was all fucked up, that’s what the doctors told Mama, remember? I really think this is just a coincidence.”

  Her words were meant to comfort me, but that wasn’t happening. I knew better. I knew his evil knew no bounds. And I was convinced he was after me. Tears filled my eyes, and I tilted my head back to keep them at bay. Sara didn’t know the truth, she didn’t know that he would punish me and get revenge for what we did. Part of me wanted to blurt out what I’d hidden for so long, but it was a secret I’d kept for years, and I didn’t know how to share it now.

  “Sis…don’t.” She dropped the gardening shovel and walked over to me to place her arms over my shoulders and rest her head against mine.

  “I’m fine,” I lied, pushing away the tears and the fear.

  “Seriously, he can’t hurt us anymore. Fuck that motherfucker. He won’t come close to us. I’ve got a bullet with his name on it if he tries to touch Mama or us.” She meant every word that spilled past her lips.

  “We’re not kids anymore, and he can’t bully us. He was a fucking coward who preyed on a woman who loved him, although I can’t fucking understand why.” She looked out into the backyard. “And children who were unable to defend themselves. It’s different now.”

  “You’re right.” I nodded, trying my best to force her confidence to rub off on me.

  “Hell yeah, I’m right. Those murders are just some fucked-up coincidence. I promise.”

  “Let’s change the subject. I don’t want to think about him anymore.” I turned my back to Sara and grabbed the watering container, but still shook my head. He had been on my mind since last night, and I was sick of giving him space in my thoughts. I needed his face erased from my mind—at least temporarily.

  “Okay, then. Since your husband is an asshole and you’re staying the night, I have an idea.” She wiggled her eyebrows, and I knew it couldn’t be good, but I couldn’t help but smile at her anyway.

  “I don’t like that look. It worries me, actually,” I admitted with a giggle.

  “Just say yes.” She smirked as I firmly pressed the soil in place.

  “Um…yeah, it doesn’t work that way. It didn’t work when we were kids, and it’s not going to work now. I need details.” I lifted my hand from the pot and flung a little wet dirt in her direction.

  “Fucking gross.” She pulled it from her hair with a shudder before wiping it on her jeans. “Anyway, I’ll make a quick dinner, and then we’ll get Mama settled. Jake will be here, so she’ll be okay for a couple of hours,” she insisted without any agreement on my end. Then she began to put her gardening tools away, refusing to make eye contact with me. She thought she was slick. She wasn’t.

  “Yeah, being sneaky won’t work. Maybe if you just tell me what you have up your sleeve, I might actually agree to it.”

  “Jake! Babe! Wanna help with dinner?” she yelled over my plea, ignoring me completely as she opened the patio door.

  “I’ll go get Mama.” I shook my head when Jake met her at the sliding glass door, rubbing his stomach as if he were starving.

  “You do that, sister.” She chuckled and wiggled her eyebrows once again.

  “Oh, I know that look. My wife is up to something.” Jake grabbed her around the waist and nipped her neck with his teeth, causing her to jump and let out a high-pitched squeak.

  I shook my head at their affection and walked over to the door close to where Mama was sitting. “Mama,” I spoke softly behind her, careful not to startle her.

  She looked over her shoulder and gave me a tiny smile then reached her hand out to me. I took it and allowed her to pull me close. She pointed at the ground with her free hand to three ladybugs crawling along the short blades of grass. A quick memory came to mind of when I was a small child before things took such a horrid turn. I remembered sitting in a backyard with Mama and Sara catching ladybugs and putting them in a jar.

  I glanced at Mama as she watched the little red insects with fascination and wondered if she was thinking of the same memory. Althoug
h, we used to catch ladybugs often, so it could have been any number of memories she’d chosen to recall. I always thought they were so pretty. I would keep them in a jar and place them next to my bed until I felt guilty for capturing them and let them go. I never wanted to hurt them, I just wanted to have them close.

  Mama smiled at me and gave my hand a squeeze. I allowed myself to believe that we were reflecting on the same memory. Maybe it wasn’t the truth, maybe Mama didn’t have that many good memories. But I refused to believe that she didn’t remember that we had good times…before him.

  “Are you ready to go in the house?” I rubbed her hand and waited for her silent answer. She stood slowly and looped her arm through mine. We made our way inside with her frail physique leaning against me lightly as we walked.

  A short time later, I helped Mama take her place at the kitchen table as Sara brought a plate and sat it in front of her.

  “Here you go, ma’am.” Sara gave her a kiss on the head before going back to the counter to grab her own plate.

  I watched as Mama gripped her fork, the utensil shaking against her fingers as she tried to cut her noodles.

  “Let me help you.” I rushed to her side and gently took the fork before cutting the pasta into small bites, making it easier for her handle.

  She simply nodded and stared in the opposite direction as I completed the simple task.

  “It’s okay, Mama. Don’t worry.” I tried to reassure her that it wasn’t any trouble, but I could tell by her facial expression that she was bothered by it.

  I knew she had an appointment with the doctor at the end of the week, and I wanted to make sure Sara discussed it with him during their visit.

  As if she could read my mind, Sara leaned next to me and whispered, “I’ll talk to him on Friday.”

  “Mom, I’m in the mood to watch some Little House on the Prairie after dinner. How does that sound?” Jake suggested with a grin before shoving a large scoop of spaghetti into his mouth.

  That was her favorite show, and she still watched the reruns, no matter how many times she’d seen them. Jake always watched with her, and I wondered if it was for him or for Mama. Either way, they both seemed to enjoy it.

  Mama gave him a nod and continued with her dinner, the troublesome look she wore just moments ago had washed away, and I was thankful for it.

  But I also knew this was part of Sara’s plan. She was definitely determined if she dragged her husband into her scheme. I knew I didn’t stand a chance and decided to just go with it. It was easier than battling my sister. She was too damn stubborn for me to stand a chance.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” My eyes were wide as I stared at the sign in front of me.

  “Heart & Soul Tattoo” was scrolled in graffiti across the front window of the building. Sara had been full of crazy ideas most of her life, but I was pretty sure this was the most outlandish. I didn’t think I could handle getting a tattoo. I didn’t even like getting shots. This was insane.

  “Look, just trust me. You might get addicted, you never know.” Sara had gotten a few tattoos over the years, but they were all hidden. Plus, she always went with Jake; it was something they did together. Why in the world would she think I would agree to this?

  “I doubt that.” I bit my bottom lip, trying to decide how I could possibly get out of this.

  “It’s a good kind of pain. I know it sounds crazy, but it is.” She pulled her keys from the ignition and tossed them into her purse.

  “That sounds completely delusional. But whatever, let’s go.” I rolled my eyes at her and just went for it. I could convince myself this was on my bucket list and you only live once. It wasn’t, of course, but I figured what the hell.

  “Fuck yeah.” She clapped her hands like a child before opening her door. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she rounded the car.

  “I’ve never even thought about doing this. I don’t even know what to get.”

  “Do you trust me?” She stopped at the door with her fingers wrapped around the handle and stared into my eyes.

  Part of me wanted to make a smartass comment or say something snarky, but in all honesty, I absolutely trusted her. “Shit. Let’s just do it before I change my mind.” I let out a heavy sigh, trying to force the butterflies flailing around in my stomach to evacuate.

  We walked through the door as the music invaded my senses, alternative rock filling the air. I stared at the black and red tile floor and then the mural of skulls and beautiful pinup girls lining the wall. They were painted in bright, bold colors. It was amazing, and I knew at that moment that if the tattoo artist was responsible for the work on the wall, I was in good hands. I was in awe of everything in sight, trying to take it in while I noticed Sara talking to the girl behind the counter.

  “Ready?” Sara’s voice turned my attention away from the displays around me.

  “Let’s go.” I gave her a pathetic smile that probably resembled pain more than happiness. I couldn’t hide my nerves, not from Sara anyway.

  We both took a seat in booths next to each other as a man covered in ink from his neck to his fingertips approached me. He was shirtless and had huge rings through both nipples that I tried my hardest not to stare at.

  “Who’s first?” he asked as he looked back and forth between us.

  “She is,” Sara chimed in with excitement as the artist pulled a sheet of paper from a printer before turning back in our direction.

  “Okay then.” He gave me a nod before making himself comfortable in the wheeled chair next to me.

  “It’s a good thing you’re wearing a sundress,” Sara whispered as she jumped from her seat and knelt down close to me. “You said you trust me,” she stated before lifting the bottom of my dress to the top of my thigh, just below my panties. My body stiffened when I realized where I would get my first ink.

  “I’ve had plenty of practice covering scars, not to worry.” He gave my leg a quick glance before placing the paper over my scar. The transparent sheet had a picture of some type of black bird. The tears that filled my eyes made it hard to see clearly.

  “We’ll match.” Sara pressed her lips against my temple before backing away and taking her seat again.

  “It’s a good spot for a phoenix.” His smile was gentle, not what I’d expect from someone with such a hard appearance.

  “Darkness surrounds me. Flames engulf me. Born from the ashes, like the phoenix I will rise,” he spoke softly as he pulled the thin sheet of paper from my skin, revealing an outline of the image I was about to get.

  “Wow, that’s beautiful.” His words gripped my chest tightly.

  “I like poetry.” He grinned as he concentrated on the liquid colors in front of him. “You ready?” he asked and patted my knee gently as the buzzing of the tattoo gun filled the air.

  I let out a deep sigh with a nod.

  The pain was excruciating as he pressed the lit cigarette against me, burning into my flesh. I could faintly hear screams in the background, and although I was convinced they were my own cries, it was distant, and the pain was so intense I couldn’t think clearly.

  I opened my eyes and stared into the green hue that blazed into me, evil pouring from his pupils, his teeth clenched together.

  “Maybe now you won’t dress like a whore.” He lifted the cigarette back to his lips and used the lighter to reignite the stick. I looked down through my tears and saw the black ring on the top of my thigh, smoke billowing in the air, the smell of burnt flesh stinging my nose.

  I hate him.

  I hate him.

  I hate him.

  But all I could do was cry until I noticed Sara come into the living room. I started to shake my head, begging her without speaking to run in the other direction. But when she realized what had happened, she began to scream.

  “I fucking hate you, leave her alone.” Her young voice filled the room, my head still shaking uncontrollably.

  “Sara, no,” I whispered through sobs.

  “You
want some, too?” he growled and grabbed her bony arm to pull her body onto the sofa next to me. A moment of clarity hit her in an instant, and she attempted to jump up, but his oversized hand pushed her back down.

  The next moment, she received the same punishment I had for wearing my shorts too short. But she hadn’t done anything wrong, except try to help me.

  Her screams matched mine as we both begged him to stop. Pleading with him.

  He threw the cigarette across the room. It landed on the brick of the fireplace before he stood and left the room without another word.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I cried, pulling Sara close to me. My eyes focused on her thigh that wore the same fresh burn, and my stomach churned while my own physical pain took a back seat to the agony I felt for my little sister.

  Sobs filled the air as I helped her to her feet, and we both limped to our bedroom, hoping to distance ourselves from the evil that hovered in the air.

  I sat at my desk going over the appointments for the rest of the afternoon while sipping a cup of coffee. The fresh ink poking out from the bottom of the sundress I borrowed from Sara kept drawing my attention. Since I decided not to go home last night, I was thankful we were basically the same size. But she was a little shorter than me, making her dress reveal a little more skin than I preferred. It wasn’t so short that it was unprofessional, I was just a knee-length type of girl. Part of me knew it was to hide my scar. And it probably wasn’t even noticeable to most people, but it was to me. And that outweighed everything else.

  But now, although it stung like hell, my new tattoo caused the scar to disappear completely.

  I glanced at the clock and realized Amie still had another fifteen minutes with her client, so I grabbed the lotion I had gotten from Zane, the tattoo artist, out of my purse. I pulled the hem of the dress a little higher and wiped the cold ointment over my tender skin, biting my lip from the sting. Despite the tinge of pain, I couldn’t help but admire it. Sara was right, it wasn’t that bad. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get another one, but I didn’t regret this. It was beautiful.