His softly spoken question hit me in the gut with the force of a two-by-four. A direct hit, it left me both wanting to crumple and vomit. Yet it was the bottomless hurt and raw anger etched across his face when he lifted his head once more that tore me apart, adding to the agony consuming me. Heart nearly eviscerated at the sight, the urge to slam my hand into the nearest brick wall rode me hard.
But I refused to do it.
Violence had stolen enough from me already. I wouldn’t let it take another thing, whether it be my self-control or the minuscule amount of progress I’d made repairing the fractured pieces that remained of Hendrix’s and my relationship.
Hold your shit together…
He doesn’t deserve to see that side of you.
Not ever again.
“What happened to you, Pop?”
His unexpected question, the second he’d asked, silenced the voice in my head. Mind completely blank, I sucked in a swift breath, and before I could stop myself, I spoke one of my many truths, freeing a part of me that had been imprisoned for far too long.
“Life broke me.” Jaw clenched tight, I paused. “But that is no excuse for what I did to you.” I would repeat those words until the day I died. “And as much as you hate me for everything that happened while you were growing up, know that I despise myself more than you ever could.”
Readjusting his ball cap, one Maddie had given him on his sixteenth birthday, he blew out a breath. “I don’t hate you,” he said, gaze locked on mine. “I should, but I don’t. Not anymore.”
The vice-like grip holding my heart prisoner eased the slightest bit. “Hendrix—”
“You’re not my favorite person some days,” he interrupted, anger vanishing. “Mostly ’cause you’re a dick and all, especially down at the station, but you’re not my least favorite person either.”
A bark of laughter burst from my chest. It wasn’t the first time I’d been called a dick, and I doubted it would be the last. “Of course I am.” I rocked back on my heels. “I’m your captain, son. It’s my job to keep you and the rest of the troublemakers under my command in line. If I don’t do it, then who the hell will?”
He shrugged, still smiling. “I—” His cell rang, cutting him off. Ripping it out of his pocket, he lifted it to his ear. “Pretty girl, you alright?” The goofy look that came over his face at the sound of his fiancée’s soft voice was comical. Forget lovesick. He’s love drunk. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute… Love you too.”
Ending the call, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked over at me.
Knowing this was good-bye, I nodded toward the corner where the florist shop was located. “Go home to your woman,” I said. “I’ll see you in a few.”
I expected him to leave, but he didn’t.
“Hey, old man,” he said, instead, his tone lighter than I’d heard it in a long time, if ever. “I’m glad this”—he pointed from himself to me, then back to himself—“is better now. ’Cause I like having this version of you around.”
He didn’t give me a chance to reply, not that I could’ve on account of the softball-sized lump that had mushroomed in the base of my throat, before jogging away. “Be careful driving, Pop!” he hollered over his shoulder. “It’s Bingo night down at the senior center, which means the Crazy Old Biddy will be on the road!”
The Crazy Old Biddy he was referring to was Maddie’s nutty grandmama and my next-door neighbor. I loved the woman, but that didn’t change the fact that she was nuts.
Everyone around town knew it too.
Me especially.
“I better walk then,” I called back, barely stifling a groan. “Or else I may get run into a ditch before I make it home to Kissler!”
“Yeah, no shit!”
Saying nothing else, my son turned the corner, vanishing from my sight.
My stomach sank at the loss.
“Love you, Hendrix,” I whispered, saying the words I should’ve spoken seconds before. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Shaking my head, I turned and headed for the drugstore, intent on buying Popsicles for Maddie and then getting back to my kid.
But my plans quickly changed, and within a matter of moments, my life, along with a dark fate I’d been convinced was carved in stone, would too.
Two
Carmen
This has to end…
My erratic thoughts ran rampant as I kneeled on the filthy bedroom floor, my pinned eyes locked on the chipped mirror leaning against the wall before me, studying the strange reflection that stared back.
The scene was reminiscent of the one that had taken place the night of my eighteenth birthday, mere minutes before my world was turned upside down, and my soul doomed for all eternity.
But now everything was different.
No longer a proud beauty queen filled with hope, I’d turned into one of the very things I swore to never be. But worse than that, I’d broken a promise I’d made to Mamá when I was just a girl.
I’d allowed a price to be placed on my body.
And on my pride too.
Though neither had been my choice, shame still filled me as I surveyed the bruises—some lighter, some darker, all of them grotesque—painting my jaw and throat with vivid colors.
Cruel reminders of the beating I’d suffered days before at the hands of a man who served as my captor and abuser, the sight of them made me sick.
“Why couldn’t the pendejo have just killed me?” I whispered to the empty room, my grief-stricken voice shaking as I traced the track marks lining the inside of my arms. “Instead of forcing me to become this.”
Because you bring in too much money.
Knowing the voice in my mind was right, I dropped my hand and bowed my head, letting the tears that slid down my face fall
