My father looked up at him.
"Go to your room and close the door."
Lance stumbled backwards and disappeared.
"Help me," I called after him, "Call somebody!"
My father took me by the collar in one hand, by the belt in the other, and threw me. I didn't even know he was that strong. I went up, and for a sickening moment I was in the air, then came down on top of the massive slab of a mahogany coffee table in the living room. In movies, tables break when you hit them. In real life, the table breaks you. I though the pain was bad before, but it was otherworldly. I started to roll off and he finished the job with his foot.
I tried to get up, but I just laid on my side while he kicked me in the stomach again and again and again until I wretched and loosed a burning hot wad of vomit onto the floor.
Then, very calmly, he took out his phone. I could barely understand what he was saying.
Four men came to the house and walked inside, and didn't say a word.
I remember two of them. One was enormous, like a gorilla in a business suit, his arms like overstuffed sausages in the sleeves. The other was tall, skinny, and he was a goddamn
cop
. They picked me up by the arms and dragged me outside, my feet sliding over the gravel in the back yard, and lifted me into the bed, and not gently. It hurt like hell when the metal rails in the bed of the truck hit my side. The other two were
Amish
, I thought, except one was driving the truck.
My father talked to the men alone, then walked over to the bed and stood over me, looking down, the sun behind his head. He was like a great, wavering shadow.
"Listen to me very carefully," he said.
"Fuck, you," I choked out.
"Are you picking up your little girlfriend tonight, or is she coming here?"
I froze, icy terror in my chest, spreading down my limbs. Oh God, Alex.
"She's not, she's…"
"Shut up. This is the deal, Howard. These men are going to take you away. There you’ll stay, and you won’t come back here. You won’t call, write, email, text. You’ll have no contact with anyone from Paradise Falls, that annoying little cunt included. Do you understand?"
I stared up at him and wheezed.
"If you do, I'll have half a dozen men fuck her to death and leave her in a ditch. Are we clear?"
"Where… where…" I choked out.
"Anywhere but here, Howard. Anywhere but here. You stay away, she'll be just fine. You don't, and I'll make sure you see her before you join her."
He slammed the tailgate shut. Two or three of them got in the truck, I can't remember.
They drove to Philadelphia like that. I was in hell. Every bump carved new trails of agony through my body. By the time we got there, I thought I was going to die.
It was the cop who dropped the tailgate. I didn't know where I was, beyond Philadelphia.
I passed out while they were carrying me.
When I woke up laying on a mattress on a cheap, rickety metal bed, I had nothing but my bloodied, stained clothes, and my wallet. Somebody had stuffed five hundred dollars cash inside. My eye was swollen shut, and every time I moved agony cut through my body. Sitting up was a monumental effort, standing a herculean struggle. I didn't know where I was, except that I was sharing a room with another man who sat up when I got to my feet.
"You best lie back down," he said.
"Where the hell am I?"
"Lutheran mission. Ridge Avenue."
"Where's that?"
"Philadelphia. United States."
"Right. Thanks."
When I stumbled out of the room, I found myself in a narrow hallway. It turned out to be a low, bunker-like building attached to a church. I knew it was a classy place when I saw the churchyard was closed off with barbed wire. People asked me my name, where I came from. I didn't tell them. All I could think about was Alex. Half of me was screaming at the other half. I couldn't leave her alone, I couldn't abandon her and trust my father not to hurt her. The other half screamed louder- if I got back there they'd kick the shit out of me again, maybe kill me, and drop Alex's body on top of me.
I knew my father was a shitheel, but nothing like this.
Alex, Alex, Alex, my every thought was Alex. Every thought was sorrow, my grief sucking all the strength out of my legs. I spent more than a week laying on that bed, eating shitty soup and stale bread, going nowhere. I had some cash in my wallet and that was it, nothing else to my name, not even my truck. When I saw myself in the mirror, I realized I was a mess. The cut in my leg must not have been bad; it healed up okay even if I could tell it was going to scar ugly.
I was still limping when I went into the Navy recruiter's office.
They asked me what in the blue fuck happened to me and I told them the truth, mostly. Father was abusive, mother dead, no prospects. I took a test, aced it, was told where I'd be going and when. The Lutheran Mission kept me until it was time for me to board a bus.
Alexis
Now
Hawk is so calm, I can barely believe it. He says the last few sentences mechanically, and then it hits me. Part of him is telling me his story. The other part is someplace far away. I think I know where he is. Someplace warm where the cicadas are buzzing, the swimming pond is cool and the air is burning hot, someplace where people we lost are still here, bridges that fell still stand, and the world still turns in its proper place, a good where world where things like this don't happen to us.
All at once I hate myself for being so harsh.
Me. He did it for me.
That's just an excuse, Alex. He abandoned you…
Shut
up!
I snap at myself.
I rub my arms as though I'm cold and sink back against a tree. My legs fold and I end up sitting on the ground. Before I know it, I choke on a sob and start crying harder, the tears hot on my cheeks. I wince as a rocket bursts overhead, a big one this time. It sends out smaller bombs that go
pop, pop, pop
and unleash a cascade of lights and streamers through the night. Hawk moves, his motion janky from a weird strobe effect that lights and darkens him as the fireworks burst in the air, and then he's sitting at my side.
He puts his arm around me and I sink into his side and weep softly, not really sure why.
"You left me," I whimper. "I needed you and you left me."
"I know, Alex. I know."
"You don't know," my voice is too loud, I need to stay quiet. "You don't know what they did."
He tenses.
"What did they do?"
"I can't,"
"
Tell me, Alex.
What did they do?"
"I
can't,"
I whimper, "I can't, Hawk. Please don't make me tell."
He puts both arms around me and buries his face in my hear. "It's all right."
"It's not all right. It's never going to be all right."
One of the big rockets goes off and bathes the trees in light. I flinch against him and he tightens his arms around me as I bury my face in his chest and pull myself onto his lap. I'm still mad at him, but I can't stop myself. I turn sideways in his arms and lean against him, and he doesn't open his big mouth. He just breathes, and I can feel his big chest expanding against me, the warmth of his body and the strength in his limbs.
"Are you going to leave again?"
"My father came to me after I left the festival. Told me I have until tomorrow to get out of town and never come back."
I suck in a breath and dig my fingers into his sides. "Are you leaving?"
"Not a chance in hell."
He leans down and touches his lips to the top of my head. His lips are warm but it almost feels cool, a quivering release of tension sliding down my body. His big hand rises and cups my cheek, lightly pressing my head to his chest as he rests his chin on my head. His other arm slips around my waist and his hand rests on my stomach, slowly moving up and down. I curl up in his lap and close my eyes, and breathe deep. I'm still mad at him, god damn it. I chance to open my eyes and look up at him.
Oh God he's looking at me the way he did at the water park. I can't take it. I have to look away, shame hot on my cheeks. It's not his fault, is it?
They beat him half to death and threatened to kill you, Alex. Of course it's not his fault.
No matter how I try, the sting of betrayal won't leave me. I don't even know if I'm mad at him anymore.
"It wasn't supposed to be this way," I whisper.
"I know."
He runs his fingers through my hair, his fingertips sending shivers down my spine as they stroke the back of my head.
"You know what I never did," he says, "Before?"
"What?"
He tips my head back and kisses me. Heat flutters in my stomach but I pull away, twisting in his lap. He pulls me close and I settle against him.
"After I started school, our parents got married," I tell him.
Alexis
Then
It was almost five hours in the car. I packed for the week, since I had to be out of the dorm by Wednesday morning unless I obtained special permission, which in hindsight, I should have. The drive was tough on my little Honda, the one I bought with the money I saved up from summer jobs. That year, it was unseasonably warm, but everyone and their mother was on the road, which makes sense I guess. It was Thanksgiving, after all. It should have been a two hour trip from Delaware to Paradise Falls, but there was a wreck on the Blue Route that left me sitting in the car with the windows down, creeping along and hoping I wouldn't run out of gas. They said on the radio that the traffic backup caused another accident on I-95 at the Delaware-Maryland border that snarled traffic from Florida to Maine.
By the time I got off the interstate and headed for Paradise Falls, I was exhausted, annoyed, and depressed. The sight of the bridge towers brought tears to my eyes. I had to scrub them away with my hands until I was across. Everything in town reminded me of Hawk. He was as much a part of my life as my own arm, and his absence was felt just as strongly. We never ate Thanksgiving dinner together -neither of our parents would allow that- but we always spent time together during the break, usually that Friday.
It never hit me until he was gone how relationship-y things were with Hawk. We went on so many dates, we just never called it that, never…
I had to pull over and compose myself before I pulled up to the house. I couldn't believe this was happening. I could see it a street over- it was still Hawk's house in my mind, and the thought of the last time I was there filled me with dread. My mother called me on the phone last week and told me she
married
that man and had already moved my things into his house. I felt violated. After five minutes of sitting there, I managed to make my face a mask and clean up the tears, and parked out front.
I was unloading my bags when my mother descended the steps. It was an unseasonably warm November and she was in a loose blouse and slacks. Her heels clomp-clomped down the front steps and she folded her arms and glared at me.
"You're late."
"I guess you didn't check the traffic report," I said, coldly.
"Lance!" she called, cheerily.
Hawk's younger brother jogged down the steps. He was sixteen at the time but just as creepy. I wasn't exactly dressed provocatively- sweats and sneakers and a hoodie, but he leered at me anyway, and I swear he tried to look down my top. No easy feat with a hoodie. He grabbed my bags and carried them inside while I hauled the big suitcase up the steps, and I made it five steps inside before May almost knocked me down, throwing her arms around me, burying her face in my chest. I hugged her back and for a brief, warm moment felt something like being at home.
Then it ended when Tom appeared. He walked out of his office and looked at me with his cold flat gaze.
"There you are," he said. "May, show your sister her room."
I shuddered as the two of us carried my bags up the stairs. My stuff, what little I'd left behind, was still in boxes. The furniture was all antiques, stuff that was already there. An unmade bed, an empty dresser. I didn't want to talk to my mother, at least not yet, so I had May help me unpack and fill up my closet and armoire, and put sheets on my bed. We worked in silence for the most part, but she kept shooting me curious looks, and finally closed the door and twisted the lock.
"Have you heard anything?" she asked, so softly.
I shook my head.
"We shouldn't talk about this."
"My room is right above his office," she said, rubbing her arms. It was cold in that house. "He meets with a lot of people."
"What people?" I said, against my better judgement.
"This Amish guy." She shrugged. "The mayor, some guy named Elliot."
"Elliot Katzenberg?"
"Yeah. They were talking about construction or something."
"He's probably doing work for the government."
Why would he be meeting with an Amish guy? That didn't make much sense. I shook my head.
"Alex, I'm scared."
She looked more than scared. May was shaking, her big eyes locked on me. I hugged her hard and sat down on the bed, and waited for her to calm down.
"I want Hawk to come back."
I shushed her. "Me too, but don't talk about him."
"I know. I tried. Mom went nuts, started screaming at me. She said I can't ever mention his name again."
I nodded. "So don't. I'll figure something out."
"I hate it here. Lance is creepy and Tom’s scary, and mom’s acting weird. I don't understand what's going on or why she married him. What are we doing here?"
"I don't know," I said, softly. "Let's just take it easy, okay? I'll be here all week. We can figure out what's going on."
"Alexis?" My mother called, from the first floor. "Where are you?"
"Just a minute," I called back, trying to sound relaxed.
I trudged down the steps like I was going to my own execution. I'd only been to Hawk's house a few times and inside the house even fewer. His mom was cool, she liked me, but she'd been gone over a year now and I was
persona non grata
around here until, I guess, my mom shacked up with his dad. I had a sudden, creepy thought. Oh my God, Hawk is my stepbrother now. As I stepped down into the foyer, my mother nodded at me from the kitchen. I stepped inside, a little shocked.