Confessions (New Beginnings #4)

by Michelle MacQueen

“What?”

  “Your life away from here.” He clarified. “Is it good?”

  Abigail didn’t know how to answer that. Then she thought of school and Taylor. Grant.

  “Yeah,” she sighed. “It is.”

  “Just remember that. You don’t need these people and when this is over, you get to go back to whatever it is that makes you happy.”

  Abigail leaned her head back against the headrest. He was right, of course. She didn’t need Grant for courage. She had herself for that. But these people were her parents. Her head told her they were no good for her, but her heart would always love them. She wanted more than anything for them to just love her - no expectations - like a real family. She’d learned the hard way that some people just weren’t capable of that.

  A single tear slid down her cheek as she remembered all the times she’d tried to make them proud as a kid. Squeezing her eyes shut, she breathed deeply, willing herself to get a grip. Her father’s fist flashed through her mind. Her mother’s shrill laugh when she needed help with her homework. “Hun, I think we’re raising a stupid one.” “You shouldn’t be in school anyways. You should be working to help support this family.” Working to support his addictions, he’d meant. And she’d left Eric alone with them.

  When she opened her eyes again, there were no more tears, only fire. She sat up straighter, steel strengthening her spine, as Riley turned onto her old street.

  It looked exactly the same. Each house was in some sort of disrepair, with unkempt lawns. Her parents’ house was at the very end. Two plastic lawn chairs sat on the grass among the weeds. That was her dad’s favorite drinking spot.

  A faded, ripped couch was jammed onto the small front porch - the couch where Eric had once found a used needle in between the cushions.

  They parked on the street.

  “I’m going to stay out here,” Riley said. “In case you need me.”

  She looked at him, grateful to have him there. “Thank you.”

  He nodded as she got out, hesitating before marching up the driveway. The red front door had peeling paint and was slightly ajar. She stood on the threshold, at a loss for what to do. Did she barge in and demand her brother? Did she knock and hope they were sober enough to make this cordial?

  Her heart pounded against her rib cage as she stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans and nudged the door open with her knee. Listening first, she couldn’t hear anyone in the living room, so she stepped inside.

  The same old furniture was scattered around the room with seemingly no order to it. Cigarette boxes surrounded the bong on the coffee table.

  Something crunched under her feet, and she looked down to see she’d trod on a fast-food wrapper. Dust and dirt clung to every available surface. The grunge was so familiar, but at the same time so foreign. This seemed like another life.

  A crash sounded from the kitchen, and Abigail pushed her way in in time to see her mother staring down at a shattered bottle at her feet.

  Her reaction to the presence of someone else was slow. She dragged her eyes up, not quite registering Abigail. The fog in her eyes was a recognizable one. It took her a moment to focus them.

  “Where’s Eric?” Abigail demanded.

  “Eric.” Her mother repeated, confused.

  “I want to see my brother.”

  “Brother.” This seemed to snap her out of it. “Abigail.”

  “Mom.” Abigail narrowed her eyes, waiting, preparing herself.

  “I broke a bottle.” She looked down sadly.

  That wasn’t what Abigail had been expecting, and she didn’t quite know how to react, so she did what she’d done a thousand times. She acted as though her mother were a child rather than a grown adult on drugs. It was the only thing to do.

  “Here.” Abigail tentatively put a hand on her mom’s back and steered her to a chair. “Take a seat. I’ll clean this up.”

  She went to the closet and grabbed the vacuum cleaner to begin sucking up the glass. When she was done, she put it away and sat across from her mom.

  “Where is Eric?” she asked softly.

  “Eric,” her mom repeated.

  “Is he being punished?”

  “He needed to be punished.”

  Abigail nodded. “He was bad,” she agreed. “He did something he shouldn’t have done.” The platitudes came too easy to her lips. “But his punishment is over.”

  “Really?” The woman’s face lit up almost like she cared.

  “Yes. I need to go and get him.”

  “Well, he’s in the basement of course.”

  Abigail groaned, dropping her head to the table and banging it. “Shit.” She’d never get him out of there without the key to the padlock.

  As if on cue, the kitchen door slammed open.

  “Look who finally decided to come home,” Abigail’s father yelled. “I told you you weren’t good enough for no college. Remember?”

  Just looking at the man made Abigail’s blood boil. She stood up quickly, knocking her chair to the ground behind her.

  “Oho, look who’s toughened up.” He stepped closer, but she didn’t budge. “I told you. We are your people. You can’t go thinking you’re better than us with no fancy education. Your brother knows that.”

  “My brother who’s locked in the basement right now?”

  “When you don’t listen to yer elders, yer gonna get punished. He deserved everything he got.”

  He leaned down towards her, smelling like whiskey and weed.

  “Let him out,” she demanded.

  “He’s still got another couple days in there ta think what he did wrong.”

  She took a step back, remembering the punishments that had been handed out to her. She’d be locked in her room for days. They’d bring her food when they weren’t too high to remember. Her and Eric usually kept each other fed when their parents didn’t.

  The last time they kept her in her room was after she announced she was going to college. She got out through the window, and she never looked back. That had to be why he was in the basement this time. There were no windows.

  Abigail was so focused on her dad that she hadn’t seen her mom stand and walk towards them.

  “I want you out of my house,” she yelled. “You can’t have the boy!”

  She swatted at Abigail, but Abigail caught her hand mid-air.

  “Don’t you touch your mother,” her father growled.

  “She’s no mother of mine,” Abigail retorted, releasing her.

  “Watch your tongue, Abi.”

  “That is not my name.”

  “Your name is whatever I want to call you.” He tried to grab her, but she backed out of his reach. “Don’t you walk away from me. This time, I won’t let you.”

  “Let me?” Abigail laughed. “I ran from here as fast as I could.”

  “Get out!” her mother yelled.

  “What is it?” Abigail asked. “Out or stay?” She was in control now and she knew it. It felt good.

  “You aren’t leaving,” her dad said, stepping closer. “You owe this family too much.”

  “I don’t owe you shit.”

  “Watch your tongue with me.” He swung quickly and she didn’t get out of the way in time. His large fist connected with her cheek, just below her eye.

  She fell to the floor, pain radiating from that spot. She’d forgotten how much it hurt. With one punch, he’d taken control back from her. That was what he did best.

  He reached down and grabbed her underneath the arms, pulling her to her feet. She struck out with her knee, only hitting the soft part of his stomach. He barely flinched.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he screamed, driving his fist into her side. “You should never have come back here.” He threw her towards the table.

  A blinding pain erupted behind her eyes as her head hit the table and she crumpled to the ground. She barely felt the kick he delivered to her stomach as stars danced across her vision. The pain was everywhere an
d then nowhere as she curled into a ball with her parents still screaming at her.

  Her mind started to play tricks on her as she saw the door crash open, revealing two men. And then she didn’t see a thing.

  The entire trip to Nashville, Mack hadn’t been sure he was doing the right thing. Would Abigail want him there? Would he be intruding?

  He’d driven the rental car to the address Taylor had given him and found a man waiting outside.

  The man walked up to him when he got out of his car.

  “Can I help you?” he asked.

  “I’m looking for the Stewart residence,” Mack said.

  “You’ve found it. Wait a minute, I recognize you. Are you Grant Mackenzie?”

  “Hockey fan?” Mack asked.

  “The biggest.” He grinned. “Name’s Riley. You mind if I get an autograph?”

  “Can it wait? I’m trying to find my friend Abigail.”

  “She’s inside,” he said, glancing at his watch. “It’s been a little longer than I’d hoped.”

  “You think she’s okay?”

  “Nothing is ever okay with these people. I’d better check it out.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  Riley eyed him for a moment before nodding his head and stepping forward.

  Mack followed him up the steps, passed the ratty old couch. When they heard yelling coming from the inside, Riley kicked open the door and both men dropped all attempt to be cautious as they rushed inside. They ran through the living room, following the sound of the yelling.

  “Put your hands where I can see them,” Riley yelled, seconds before Mack followed him in and took in the scene. A middle-aged couple who looked like they hadn’t showered in ages stood facing Riley with their arms in the air. Abigail was curled into a ball at their feet with a small pool of blood surrounding her head.

  “Oh God.” Mack dropped to the floor and fumbled with his phone, calling 911. He gave them the information they needed as he felt for a pulse. It was strong. She was strong.

  A gash spanned the length of her brow, and a bruise was beginning to show on her cheek. He didn’t want to check for anything else until the paramedics got there. Too scared to move her, he took her icy hands in his and stayed with her.

  “You’re going to be just fine,” he whispered. He didn’t know if he was saying it more for himself or for her. All other words failed him as he felt the world closing in around them. She had to be okay.

  Riley wrestled with Abigail’s father, the older man grunting out curses as he was overpowered. Mrs. Stewart backed herself up against the wall, muttering. Riley managed to restrain Mr. Stewart just as Mack was rising to help him. He had to admit, the guy was good. Riley patted them down, fishing a key ring out of Abigail’s father’s pocket. He glanced at Mack in concern.

  “I’m going to put them out in my car and call the guys at the station to come out,” he said. “I’ll be back in.”

  They didn’t fight him as he led them out. It probably had something to do with the fact that they both seemed a little strung out.

  Mack couldn’t take his eyes from Abigail’s face. “I can’t lose you,” he said. “Please, Abigail …”

  Riley came back in a moment later and held up a key. “I know where Eric is.”

  Mack had completely forgotten about Abigail’s brother. When she was hurt, he couldn’t think of anything else.

  Riley disappeared down a set of stairs, returning with a tall, skinny, male version of Abigail.

  “Oh my God,” he gasped, covering his mouth with his hand. “Abigail, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to come.”

  Her eyelids fluttered, opening slowly.

  Tears were openly running down her brother’s face as he looked at her. She focused her eyes on him, giving the tiniest of smiles. Mack could tell it took all her strength to do so.

  “The ambulance is coming,” Mack told her. When her gaze fixed on him, there was confusion, but a little bit of hope too.

  “Grant?” she whispered.

  “I’m here, baby.”

  “Don’t call me baby,” she sighed.

  A laugh forced itself out of his chest, and he couldn’t help but smile at her.

  The paramedics showed up and loaded her into the ambulance. Mack rode with them, but was forced into the waiting room at the hospital.

  Riley and Eric appeared at the hospital with food - as it had been a day since Eric had eaten - and the three of them waited to be told what was going to happen next.

  Chapter Nine

  “She’s okay?” Eric asked for the tenth time.

  The nurse nodded indulgently.

  Eric collapsed back into the chair behind him and Mack sprang to his feet.

  “Can we see her?” he asked.

  “She’s still weak.” The nurse gave him a sympathetic smile. “We stitched up the gash on her forehead, and have given her something for the pain, but that’s all we can do. Our tests show nothing wrong internally. Thankfully, nothing is broken. She’s going to be pretty bruised and shaken up, but that’s all.”

  “Thank God,” Riley breathed.

  “When can we take her home?” Mack fixed the nurse with an unwavering stare.

  She met his gaze. “We’d like to keep her tonight for observation. We’re worried about a concussion. She should be able to leave in the morning. I can take you back now.”

  “I think that’s my cue to leave.” Riley stood. “They took the Stewarts to the station, so I’ll head over to give a statement. They’ll probably stop by here later to talk to you guys.”

  “Thanks, man.” Eric said. “For everything.”

  “No problem, brother. See you later?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Riley then stuck his hand out towards Mack and the two shook.

  And then Mack was left with just Eric and the nurse.

  They followed the nurse through the automatic double doors and down the busy hall.

  Abigail was asleep when they got there and they took their seats on each side of her bed.

  Mack didn’t know exactly what he was supposed to say to Abigail’s brother. He was eighteen, and had just spent the past day locked in a basement. Was there anything you could say to that? Mack was still wrapping his mind around the cruelty those people showed to their own kids. He understood now why Abigail had to come back to help her brother.

  There was a time when he’d have done anything for his sister, and she for him. Their family was a close one, but it was his mom that kept them all together - a fact none of them realized until she was gone.

  “So.” Mack cleared his throat.

  “Dude,” Eric started. “Don’t feel like you have to say something about it. It wasn’t the first time they’d done that. Abi and I are used to that kind of thing.”

  Mack leaned forward and scanned her face, brushing a stray curl from her cheek. “She hates being called that, you know. It just reminds her of them.”

  “I’ll have to remember that.” Eric looked down at his hands and sighed. “How is she? I mean, before today. We haven’t talked much since she left. I was pretty awful to her; just angry she was gone, I guess.”

  “I think she’s okay,” Mack said, smiling down at her. “You never really know with her. She can be hard and distrustful.”

  “Comes by it honestly.”

  “But, once you get to know her, you see that she’s just tough. She hides. I still don’t know if she even likes me.” He laughed.

  “Are you two together?”

  “I think so.”

  It was Eric’s turn to laugh. “So I guess she hasn’t changed that much.”

  “You know I can hear you guys, right?” Abigail cracked an eye open.

  “And she’s such a pain in the ass,” Mack continued, acting as if he hadn’t heard her.

  “Shut up.” She stuck out her tongue.

  Leaning down to kiss her, he whispered, “Good to have you back.”

  Her grin spread, and the
n she looked past him to her brother.

  “I’m going to go grab a coffee.” Mack stood. “You guys need to catch up.”

  As he walked out, they were just staring at each other in silence, waiting for the other to make the first move. If Eric was anywhere near as stubborn as his sister, they were in for a long night.

  Mack returned just as Eric was heading out.

  “I’m going to let her get some rest,” he said. “I’ve got to go back to that house and pack some things then I’ll head over to stay with Riley. I’ll be back in the morning.”

  “Sure.” Mack scratched the back of his head and looked inside the room. “I’ll probably crash here.”

  Eric clapped him on the shoulder in thanks and ambled down the hall.

  “You aren’t sleeping here,” Abigail said when he entered the room.

  “I’m glad I have you to tell me what to do.” He smirked.

  “There’s a perfectly good hotel room. Why would you stay in a musty old hospital?”

  “Figure it out, college girl.”

  “Hospital policy, ma’am,” the nurse said.

  “Well, then the policy sucks,” Abigail snapped.

  “Abigail, seriously, get in the damn wheelchair,” Grant ordered before turning to the nurse. “Sorry, she’s a little … ah … independent.”

  “That’s a nice way to put it,” Eric laughed. “Come on, Abi.”

  She scowled at him.

  “Abigail, sorry.” He put his hands up in surrender. “That’ll take some getting used to.”

  She huffed out a breath as she plopped herself down in the wheelchair, wincing as pain radiated up her torso. She had extensive bruising on her stomach, face, and up one arm, but they’d determined she didn’t have a concussion.

  When they got outside, she stood up and turned to her brother. She was about to get on a plane back to Columbus, and he was leaving in another week or so for a new life in Louisville.

  She stepped into his outstretched arms and hugged him back. “When did you get taller than me?” She spoke into his chest.

  “Like five years ago,” he laughed.

  “Columbus isn’t that far of a drive if you need anything.”

  “I’ll come visit, especially since we can get free hockey tickets.” He winked at Grant over her shoulder.