Every single day, I lived a lie. I pretended to be someone I wasn’t. I broke the bond of trust with the one man who protected me no matter how much bullshit I threw at him. If he knew, he’d never understand why I did it. We were all broken in some way. It was how we lived with our broken pieces, which made us who we were. And I just had more broken pieces than most.
“I’ll be here when you’re done.”
I nodded and walked toward the shack, the squeak of my sneakers on the gravel sounding like walnuts being cracked. I stopped outside the door, looked up at the sky and took a deep breath, closing my eyes. A ritual I did every year before I walked into the darkness of unbearable pain where past met present.
Soon, my haunted dreams would wash away with the blood that trickled down my back. I’d be free. At least until the pain built up and I needed this again. I didn’t know how to stop it, and sometimes I wished I could just stay here. Stop pretending and drown in the darkness that lingered in my mind. I lived with the dirty black rag he used to keep me silent still choking me.
The smell of the nearby creek and the sound of the chirping of birds surrendered me to its hold. The trembles eased and my heart slowed.
Peace.
I opened the door.
“Hello, Chaos.”
I STRAIGHTENED MY shoulders and embraced the cold shiver that ran down my spine as I met his eyes. Direct and without mercy, no pity or sympathy as to what was going to happen. And this was why he was the one who did it to me. Ironic that he saved me from the very thing he did to me every year.
He wore a black suit, perfectly cut to his sculpted body. He was the same height as Deck and dark like him, but that was where it ended. When he smiled, it was charming with a cocky twitch, but there was a touch of sinister which could make a girl think twice before approaching him.
I’d stepped into his domain at sixteen and he gave me back what I’d lost. There was no coddling, no sympathy for what had happened to me. Deck was always an issue between us as he told me Deck was my biggest weakness, but he was also the part of me, which kept me from breaking completely. My solid.
He leaned against the rusted metal wall, ankles crossed, arms matching, oblivious to the smothering heat in what felt like a sardine can. It was where this had to happen, mimicking before.
It was months after Connor’s funeral when he picked me up walking home from Robbie’s house. That was the day the abuse stopped but for me it never really ended. The pain … I needed the reminder. Pain set me free from the memory.
There was no need for idle conversation and I walked to the center of the shack, the wood floor creaking with each step. It hadn’t rained in a while and the place had a film of dust everywhere.
This would put me out of commission for a few days. Deck was observant, but fortunately, every year at this time, he made certain he was on a job. It made it easier to keep my pain hidden. I knew Deck felt responsible for Connor; he’d been his team leader, and Deck felt accountable for everyone.
I knelt on the ground and lowered my head.
Deep breaths.
Slow and rhythmic.
I knew how to take my mind elsewhere. It was one of the first things I’d learned when the pain became unbearable. I used to cry and beg and fight, but none of that worked. Separate myself from my body and live within the stillness.
But this was different. Now, I sought the pain. I wanted to feel every muscle strain. My flesh tearing apart then burning. To hear my own screams. With each one, it was the release of the past. It was regret. It was for the lies. And when it was over, it brought me back from the hatred and gave me the numbness. But nothing … no amount of pain could make me numb to Deck. My solid was also my greatest flaw.
I pulled my shirt over my head, folded it neatly and placed it in front of me. I felt the subtle change in air, heard his quiet steps as he moved toward me.
He never asked if I wanted to change my mind.
He never asked if I was sure.
He did what I asked him.
I didn’t know his past, but I saw it lingering in the depths of his eyes—the bleak darkness.
He found me when I was lost. Brought me back from the pit of fear and desolation.
He showed me how to survive. To bury the fear and replace it with strength. The only thing he could never get me to let go of was Deck.
Deck was embedded, carved into my bones. One part of me that wouldn’t be repressed.
A tear slipped from the safety of my eye and trailed down my cheek. I wasn’t embarrassed or tried to hide it. This was why I came here.
He stepped closer.
I closed my eyes and more tears fell.
He crouched behind me. I swallowed and kept my hands perfectly still on my lap. It was the familiar clang of his belt being unbuckled that caused the bile to rise in the back of my throat. I took several deep breaths.
I felt him hesitate as if giving me a moment then his unforgiving grip grabbed my wrist and yanked it behind my back. Then he grabbed the other one. I sucked in air at the strain on my arms then relaxed again as he tightened the belt around my wrists. I fell forward, my cheek pressed into the rough planks, exactly like it had been before. It didn’t take long before the memory flooded into me.
The first cut always hurt the most and he made it the deepest and the longest; a slow drag of his dull knife from my hip at my lower back, curving across to just below my armpit. He kept the flat of his palm on my neck, pressing me forward, keeping my cheek pressed into the floor. I felt the rain of blood slide down my heated skin. He wiped it away with a piece of coarse material as if he was cleaning the drips of paint off a canvas.