by Hart, Rebel
“Tell him, Rae. Tell him, like I’m going to tell Allison she’s going to prom with me.”
“Whoa, now. I didn’t realize we were talking on that sort of a level now.”
He nudged me with his shoulder. “You really are patronizing sometimes. You know that?”
I giggled. “It’s why you love me.”
He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to him. “Always and forever, girl. I’ll always have your back.”
“Even if I screw around with your mortal enemy and somehow make you guys friends?”
He paused. “I mean, maybe.”
The two of us laughed, but his words hit home. Michael was right. If I wanted Clint to know I loved him, I had to spit it out. And there was a good chance he wouldn't do it first. Not because he didn’t want to. But because he’d been through enough. He’d taken enough first steps to last someone a lifetime. It was damn time someone took the reins from him and let him rest a little bit. I didn’t want to wait a second longer to tell him how I felt. Even if it blew up in my face. Even if he broke my heart. Even if I completely regretted the decision. At least I’d know. I’d know where we stood, and he’d know he was capable—and worthy—of being loved.
And I wanted to be the person to finally give that to him.
38
Clinton
I gripped the wooden spoon, pulling it to my side. “No.”
He growled at me. “No?”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not going anywhere. And I suggest you let Cecilia go.”
As I stood there, staring at the fear in her eyes, I felt the entire room shift underneath my feet. My father’s anger filled the space, pushing it outward and upward and downward. But, I steadied myself. I looked him straight in his eyes and held his stare. Held my ground. Held that wooden spoon in my hand, just in case that man decided to charge me.
This stopped today.
I mean, fucking hell. I was a fighter everywhere in my life except my own damn home. The fuck was that about? No more. I was done being pushed around by my father. I was done feeling weak. I’d just fought for my life, and now I felt like the time had come for me to fight for my freedom. To fight for peace. To fight for the sanity of this household and to buck up against my father.
And I was done allowing Cecilia to suffer the same angry wrath I had all my life. She deserved better. That woman had been there for me every step of the way through this shit. I wouldn't let my father hurt her. I wouldn’t let him mangle her. I wouldn’t let him taint her the way he’d tainted me down through the years. Because if he didn’t have any issues putting his hands on her right now, that meant it had happened in the past.
Something that boiled my blood.
Dad’s eye twitched. “What? You think you’re a big man now?”
Cecilia tried wrenching away from him, but it didn’t work. He tightened his grip further against her skin, causing her to cry out. I took a step forward, flipping the spoon in my hand. I caught it, feeling the weight of the damn thing settling against my palm. And as Dad’s eyes flickered down to it, something else crossed my mind.
It wasn’t simply Cecilia that deserved better.
I did, too.
“The fuck are you smiling about? Put that damn thing down and get out of here.”
My father’s voice ripped me from my trance and I felt my lips curling up. Further. Wider. Until my teeth gleamed at him and happiness flooded my veins. I deserved better. For the first time in my life, I felt like I deserved something more than this. Something more than Dad. Something more than the life he’d given me. Something more than the emptiness of his money. I looked at Cecilia and winked, letting her know that the two of us were getting out of this. No matter what I had to do.
Then, finally, Dad dropped her arm. “The fuck are you smiling about, son?”
I snickered. “I’m not your son.”
His eyebrows rose. “Pretty sure I knocked up your mother with you. So, yeah. That makes you my son.”
“Takes a lot more than sperm to make you a father, Dad.”
He started walking toward me and Cecilia reached out for him. Telling him to stop. Telling him that she’d get me to go upstairs. He turned around, pushing her back toward the kitchen counter as she stumbled on her feet. And as she caught herself against the counter, she cried out. Her voice filled with panic, horror, and anger.
“He’s just recovered, Howard! Stop it!”
I didn’t flinch. As my father stalked toward me, I looked him straight in his eyes. I wouldn't let him control this house anymore. I wouldn't let him control my life, or my happiness, or my worth. I kept Cecilia in the corner of my eye, checking to make sure she was all right. And after she got back up onto her feet, I narrowed my eyes at my father.
“The fuck are you looking at, Clinton?”
I sighed. “I’m not afraid of you anymore, Dad. I don’t know why you’re so angry. I don’t know why you hate me so much. But I’m done trying to figure it out. I’m done trying to figure you out. This has to stop, and it stops now. And if you don’t want it to stop, I’ll call people who will help me stop it. For my sake, and Cecilia’s.”
He put his finger in my face. “You leave my wife to me.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
He paused. “What did you just say?”
I stepped up to the plate, mere inches from my father’s face. One on one, without a care in the world as to what he did after this. Because if he beat me to a bloody pulp, I’d take both the doctor and the lawyer up on their offers. So long as they helped Cecilia out in the process. My smile settled into a grin. A snarky grin I’d learned from him over the years. His nostrils flared with anger. His eyes bulged with revenge. I smelled the stench of alcohol on his breath and shook my head.
Pathetic. “I said, not a chance in hell, Dad.”
Before I knew it, my father’s hands pressed into my chest. The wooden spoon went clattering to the ground as my hands came up in defense. Cecilia screamed in the background, and the whole world fell black. Black at night. Black, like the color of my soul. Well, the color my soul had been. Rae changed a great deal of that. Cecilia changed a great deal of that. And in that moment, I wondered if Rae would be proud of me. Proud of me standing up to my father. Proud of me holding my ground. Proud of me fighting for my own happiness and safety within the walls of my father’s mansion.
And I decided she would be. If she knew what was happening right now, she’d be proud. Possibly screaming at me like Cecilia currently was. But she’d be proud after the fact.
Not today, Dad. You’re done with this shit today.
The only thing I processed was the smell of alcohol. The only thing I felt was my father’s storm unleashing against me. He held so much anger within him. He had such fury in his fists. The only thing I saw were his angry eyes coming at me as I shoved him in his chest, listening as Cecilia screamed in the background.
“Stop it! I’m calling the police if you don’t cut it out right now!”
Her voice faded away. Fell into the background as I moved and ducked my father. Whatever this storm brewed from, I wasn’t going to be my father’s punching bag any longer. If he wanted a fight, a fight is what he’d get. And I’d make sure to repay him for every fist that ever connected with my face. I’d repay him for every bruise he ever wrung around my neck. I’d repay him for every knee to my stomach and every elbow to my back and every time he pinned me against my fucking bedroom wall to teach me a lesson about being late for school.
Because damn it, we all deserved better.
Even my father.
“Stop! Please!”
“You’re a selfish little brat, you know that?”
“Howard, no!”
Drunken fists flew around in the air and I dodged every single one of them, until a couple connected with my ribs, causing me to grunt out. But the only thing saving me was the fact that my father was completely smashed. He teetered on his feet, giving me a chance to get away from h
im. I slunk around him in the kitchen, moving away from him and watching as he stumbled into the kitchen counters. I gripped my stepmother by the upper arms and moved her out of harm’s way, ripping open the kitchen door and pushed her into the dining room just as my father came up behind me.
And when he fisted my shirt, he ripped me away from my stepmother.
Away from the woman I’d defend tonight.
“Get back here and fight me like a damn man.”
Cecilia cried out. “Howard! Stop! No!”
I scoffed. “Just getting the innocent out of the way before I teach you a lesson with your own medicine.”
And as Dad slung me across the kitchen, forcing me to the ground, I heard him come for me. I felt his footsteps growing closer. I scrambled off the floor, readying myself for a fight just as his hands connected with my chest again.
Barreling me back into the garage door.
“No! Clint!”
I grunted as my back slammed into the doorknob. “Fuck.”
Dad chuckled. “You want to play tough guy, not a problem. Because by the time I’m done with you, you’ll know why I’m the father and you’re the son.”
I snarled. “In your fucking dreams, you psychotic abusive fuck.”
He tossed me to the ground and I used the momentum to slide myself underneath the kitchen table. I heard Dad pulling at chairs and filling the kitchen with his growls. With his curses. With his anger. I scrambled up to my feet on the other side, then leapt onto the table itself. He looked up at me, his eyes wild and unfocused, filled with the alcohol he’d been drinking as I leapt above him, landing on the kitchen island.
Cecilia gasped. “Clint! Be careful!”
And as I hopped back down onto the floor, I scooped the wooden spoon back up, grinning at my father before he charged me once more.
“Look out!”
39
Raelynn
I wiped down my register as I planned it all out in my head. Tonight, I’d tell Clint exactly how I felt. Tonight, I’d wrap him up in my arms, plant a kiss straight against his lips, and shout from the rooftops how much I loved him. I smiled as I thought about it. I couldn't wait to get my arms around his body again. My movements grew furious as I cleaned everything down as quickly as I could, closing up the grocery store for the second time since the incident.
My manager had been hesitant to schedule me to close after everything that took place.
“Ready to go?”
I jumped at the sound of Michael’s voice. I whipped my head up, watching him as he stood at the edge of my register. Not a soul came in or left the grocery store, and I wondered how long he’d been standing there.
I furrowed my brow. “You’re back?”
He snickered. “I never really left.”
“You left after your break. I saw you get in your car.”
“Yeah, well. I went to visit with Allison for a bit. Then I came back. Been standing here for about twenty minutes watching you clean and murmur to yourself.”
I paused. “I was murmuring?”
He grinned. “Yep. And it’s a good plan, what you’ve got going.”
“Shit, you heard?”
He shrugged. “I mean, you were murmuring. And you did kind of explain to me that you were going to do it anyway. Good thing I’m here to drive you, right?”
“Then, why do I get the feeling you’re not just here to drive me to Clint’s?”
“What? Can’t I come visit my best friend while she’s working?”
I grinned. “You overprotective little thing, you. You’re worried about me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Look, it freaked me out, what happened to you and Clint that night. Okay? So sue me if you don’t like it. But if you’re closing down this grocery store again, I’d like to be here to make sure you get to wherever you need to be safely enough. You know, until Clint’s back to doing that for you.”
I smiled. “Thank you, Michael.”
“I love you, Rae. Let me know when you’re ready to go, and I’ll get you over to Clint’s.”
I reached over the cash register and hugged his neck. Then I finished up what I needed to do. I cashed out my till and took it over to my manager’s office. And I found him staring at the parking lot cameras. I cleared my throat, pulling him from his trance as he jumped in his seat. He whipped his head around with widened eyes, and my gut dropped for him.
Looked like Clint and I weren’t the only ones affected by what happened.
I passed off my till and clocked out. Then Michael and I headed to his car. I felt the eyes of my manager on us the entire way. He stood at the windows of the grocery store, watching us until we got to the car and got in. I even saw him watching us in my rearview mirror as we drove off.
Making our way for Clint’s house.
Michael had a smirk on his face for the entire ride. And as we listened to his bullshit classical music, I found my inner peace. I found my inner strength. I rehearsed the things I wanted to say to him as we made our way for his house. I felt myself filling with hope. Excitement. Anxiousness. But not the bad kind. The good kind.
Because I knew this meant taking another step for Clint and me.
A step I felt we’d both been ready for.
“You want to rehearse?”
I peeked over at Michael. “What?”
He snickered. “Rehearse. You know, what you’re going to say to him tonight.”
I shrugged. “Nah. I’m good. I usually wing it with stuff like this.”
“You’re going to wing it when it comes to telling Clint how you feel for the very first time>”
“I mean, I usually wing it with my English speeches and I do just fine with those.”
He paused. “You didn’t plan out that speech you gave last year?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“That massive speech you gave on 1984 sort of applying today.”
“Are you not hearing me right? Clean out your ears, Michael.”
He chuckled. “Holy shit, you’re amazing. You know that?”
I smiled. “And I hope that’s one of Clint’s many reactions tonight.”
“If it isn’t, I’ll kick his ass for you.”
“Michael!”
“What? Come on, Rae. I see how happy he makes you. I see how much this boy means to you. And if he doesn't love you or if he hurts you or if I even suspect he’s manipulating you or leading you on in any way? He’s got it coming to him. Because you’re my friend, Rae. My best of friends. And we have to stick together.”
I reached over, taking his hand. “I love you so much.”
He smirked. “Love you, too, Rae. Now, you ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Good. Because we’re here.”
I drew in a deep breath as we pulled into Clint’s driveway, stopping just shy of the porch. Michael squeezed my hand for reassurance, and I leaned over to kiss his cheek softly. I wanted him to know how thankful I was for his friendship. How thankful I was for accepting Clint into our fold. And as I hugged him tightly, I pressed my lips against his ear.
“Thank you. For everything.”
He nodded. “I’ll hang around for a bit, just in the slightest case this goes haywire. All right?”
“You won’t have to, but thank you anyway. Give it about ten minutes, then you can drive on off. I’m sure Cecilia will give me a ride home later.”
“If you don’t stay the night.”
I scoffed and playfully swatted at Michael. Then I shoved myself out of his SUV. He wished me luck and I closed my door, grinning at him through the window.
And just as I turned around, the front door burst open.
“Clint!”
I looked on in horror as the man I loved fell to his back on the porch. I heard a door open in the distance as the world around me tunneled. All I saw was Clint lying on his back, blood dripping down his face. Flashes of him lying at the bottom of that ravine bombarded my mind. Until I heard that fuc
king voice.
“Get up and fight me like the man you think you are!”
His father.
I watched in slow motion as Cecilia rushed out onto the porch. She was missing a shoe. Her hair was disheveled. Her dress had been ripped off her shoulder and she looked as if she’d been crying for hours. I saw her drop to the porch beside Clint. I stood there, frozen, as Clint’s father appeared in the doorway. His fists were balled up. He had blood splattered all over his face. His eye was swollen shut. His lip, split. He had the fire of Satan in his eyes.
And I watched as Cecilia helped Clint back up onto his feet.
Michael stepped up beside me. “Hey!”
I jumped at the sound of his voice. Because I had no fucking clue when he’d gotten out of the car. Time toppled over on itself. I watched Michael push away from my side, sprinting for the porch. I followed behind him, finally pulled out of my trance. The world moved in regular motion again as the smell of blood, sweat, and tears filled the space around me. Michael moved behind Clint, steadying him as he stumbled back. And while Cecilia smoothed her hands over his chest, I reached up to cup Clint’s cheek, pulling his eyes to mine.
“Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
“You won’t get out of this another time, son.”
His father reached between all of us, ripping him away from our grasps. I lunged for him, trying to get him back as Michael held me around my waist. Cecilia screamed for him to stop. Screamed at his father for him to let Clint go. I reached out for him, kicking and trying to get out of Michael’s grasp.
But if he wouldn't let me use my body, I sure as hell would use my words.
“Let him go!”
My shrieking voice filled the night as Clint’s father held him tightly by the collar of his shirt.
“Let him go, you coward! I’m tired of you hurting him. Abusing him. Beating him to a pulp. You’re the sorriest excuse for a father I’ve ever seen in my life, and mine left me when I was just a little girl!”
Michael put his lips to my ear. “Calm down. He’s going to hurt you. He’s drunk. I can smell it. Calm your voice, Rae.”
