“Get out of my head! Get out, get out, GET OUT!”
“Wake up! Wake up, goddammit! I’m here!”
My eyes shoot open and I sit up, knocking Echo back. She flails her arms and she screams when she falls off the bed.
My fingers touch my neck, and I wince when I try to speak. My throat burns like I’ve screamed for hours. My heart beats a mile a minute, like I’ve been running for my life.
Echo gets up onto her knees, rubbing the side of her head as she stands. Her eyes lock on mine, and it kills me to see the fear reflected back in hers. Before I can try to utter a word, I feel someone breathing down my neck. I turn my head and meet dull forest green eyes on a bleeding face wearing a smile so vicious it burns me alive once more. “I’ve missed you, baby girl.”
I scream but no sound comes out. I fly out of bed grabbing Echo’s arm and I pull her out of my bedroom, slamming the door shut.
He’s here.
We run downstairs and it isn’t until I’m about to throw open the front door that Echo grabs my wrist and yells at me to stop. “Tell me what’s happening! You’re scaring me, Zoë.” She grabs a hold of my shoulders, her grip firm. “They are never this bad. You wouldn’t stop screaming. What happened?”
Tears run down my cheeks, my vision blurry. “He was there,” I confess, my voice barely above a whisper. “He was in my room.”
Echo shakes her head, shaking me lightly. “No one was in there. Just us.”
I inhale and exhale deeply, trying to collect enough saliva to swallow. “He was in my room with the door locked so I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t let it happen again, Echo. Not to her. Not to me.” The words that left my mouth shock us both. I never meant to say them. I had no control.
My heart beats three times and then she asks, “Was it Owen’s father?”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, holding back a sob. How did she know it was him? I never let it slip. I made sure to never say anything bad if I had to mention his name. How did she know?!
She never stopped asking questions about the contacts.
With a swift nod I answer her question. And then the words keep tumbling out of my mouth, “I killed him. It wasn’t an accident.”
Echo’s hands drop from my shoulders and her eyes lower to the floor. I let every sob I’ve been holding back out. I shatter into a million pieces a foot away from the outside world.
I spilled a secret, and the world is still spinning.
Echo looks back up with tears streaming down her face while she leans against the banister, clutching at her chest. “Owen’s father…he raped you.”
I want to scream the word “yes” but I can’t. I can only shake my head and drop to the floor. “He made me say I was his, that I wanted it. I didn’t say no. I didn’t…stop him.” I cry even harder when my best friend collapses to the floor, pulling me into her arms where we cry together.
She tells me the same thing my therapist has; that it was in fact rape. I didn’t want it and he took advantage of me. She tries everything to get me to understand that it wasn’t my fault.
Wasn’t it, though? I knew for years that what he was doing to me was wrong, yet I never said a word. He told me to say I was his. And I did. Every time. Because I thought it would end. I could have prevented that moment. I could have done something and I didn’t.
I can now.
The damage is done.
My demons have come out into the light.
I’m curled up into a tight ball on Echo’s lap, her fingers running through my hair, when I start to spill every last secret. I watch her broken heart give its final beat when I start to utter the words, “The sexual abuse started when I turned six.”
After I bring her into the darkness I live in, she apologizes for having to get up and run to the sink. She empties her stomach and dry heaves for what seems like hours.
We curl up against each other when she returns, still on the living room floor. The early morning light coming in from the windows keeps us both from getting sucked into the shadows.
We are merely breathing; furious with the world on a day we should be happy.
It’s Christmas morning. And I feel like I’m in hell.
Echo missed her flight to Indiana yesterday due to a major snowstorm causing lots of chaos at the airports with flights heading to that area. We decided she could come with us to Portland. It would be fun, we said.
Fun isn’t a word that fits our current situation.
Mowgli walks around us, pawing at our limbs every five seconds. He has food. When I got up to use the bathroom I refilled everything so he wouldn’t starve. He’s taken care of.
I can’t really say the same for us.
“He deserved to die,” Echo states dryly, staring up at the ceiling.
I reach for her hand and cover it with both of mine. “That’s what I say when I feel guilty, but then I’m reminded of the Stevensons. They didn’t know.” I swallow past the lump in my throat. “They can never know.”
“Owen loved that man. He’s fucking proud that he has one thing left of his father.” Echo sits up, a dark look in her eyes. “He should know how fucking twisted that piece of shit was.” I shake my head before she even finishes speaking. “Zoë, it’s not right that the world is left believing he was a good man. It’s not right you were dealing with this alone.”
It’s not, but it’s what must happen. I refuse to break two innocent families; Owen’s and my own. My parents would never forgive themselves for working so much and trusting me with Owen’s family. They would never look at me the same. Their hearts would break just as much as mine has. I’m their daughter and they couldn’t protect me. Owen’s family would never be the same once they know who Michael truly was.
“Coco, please. It would ruin them.”
“It ruins you!”
I shut my eyes, wishing I never told her everything.
At the same time, I feel relieved that she knows.
“I knew something wasn’t right when Owen got the contacts. It didn’t make sense to me. I didn’t want to believe what my mind was making up. For weeks I…” She shakes her head, her eyebrows furrowed, her jaw clenched. “I knew his father must have done something, but I never pictured this.” Her hand flies to her throat, her eyes widening. “How doesn’t he know? How couldn’t he see that something was wrong? You were always together.”
I’ve asked myself that so many times over the years and it all came back to this; Owen wasn’t supposed to be my savior. He was just a kid, in love with his best friend. He shouldn’t have worried over the way his father looked at me when we were alone, or how he’d always try to stay close to me when Owen was around.
Michael was a good pretender. He showed his family what they wanted to see. They didn’t fear the man I did.
“It always happened when Owen had to take a bath. He’d get too dirty from playing outside. His father would come into the room and touch me, or make me touch him.” I shut my eyes when I say the rest. “It doesn’t take long for a man to orgasm. No one suspected.”
We stare at the ceiling until our eyes hurt. At some point we have to get up and answer the door. For the last three minutes the person on the other side wouldn’t stop knocking and ringing the doorbell.
Freddie stands on our doorstep and lets out a deep exhale, followed by looking up at the darkening sky.
Almost a whole day has passed by and we were lying on the living room floor. That’s what happens if a person spends five minutes in my head.
“Jesus Christ! You two had us worried. Why didn’t anyone answer their fucking phones?! It’s almost five! Owen’s trying to break through a window.”
Freddie takes out his phone and texts my boyfriend that we’re alive.
Owen jogs up the steps a minute later, relief radiating off of him. “Fuck, I thought you were sleeping in but when two hit and I didn’t get a message back, I started to–” His eyes bounce between Echo and me. “What happened?”
He tries t
o reach out for me, almost taking a step inside the house when Echo shoves him back, along with Freddie. Then she slams the front door shut.
“What the fuck, E?” Owen shouts on the other side.
“Open the door, hoho,” Freddie adds, pounding on it.
I stare at my best friend, silently pleading with her to not say anything when I see the look in her eyes. She wants to scream. She wants to hurt someone.
She’s never violent…
Her hands are curled into fists, her breathing heavier. “Fuck!” she whisper shouts. “Fuck!” She closes her eyes and then steps toward me. “I want to stab him for being so fucking blind. I hate him. I fucking hate him for not seeing this. He was obsessed with you and yet, he couldn’t see that you were being…abused. How don’t you hate him?”
“He isn’t his father,” I breathe. It’s what I had to remind myself almost every day for years. Even after the car accident I loved Owen. The devil could never take that from me.
She nods. “I know. And because of that, he’s still breathing.”
Echo storms upstairs. I take a second to see if she’s coming back down and when it’s clear that she’s not, I turn toward the front door.
I ruined my best friend.
What have I done?
“What the fuck crawled up her ass?” Freddie demands when I open the door again.
“We smell like ass. Give us a few minutes to clean up, okay?” It’s the only excuse that comes to mind.
Freddie grumbles something as he walks in and heads for the kitchen.
Owen comes up to my side, cupping the side of my face. “Why were you crying?”
It takes a second to come up with something. Staring at this beautiful man towering over me by a few inches, I see nothing but love and worry etched on his face. “I wasn’t crying,” I comment, trying to sound cheerful. It is in fact Christmas after all.
“Your eyes and nose are red.”
“I’m fine.”
He looks at me incredulously. “Echo looked the same.”
“She buddy-read a book with me.”
“Zo.”
“Wen.” I hold his eyes and I try to make the lie seem real. He’ll keep asking what’s wrong if I don’t give him something. “I read The Fault in Our Stars, okay?”
His blue colored contact eyes bore into mine and I think he’s not going to believe me, but he sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say. Was the sex that bad you had to read a sad book once you came home?”
No, the sex was amazing. It was what my mind made up hours later that ruined the high I was on.
“It was perfect. I wish we hadn’t waited so long.”
And it’s the truth.
He leans forward and kisses my lips. “We have to leave within the hour. Will you two be ready?”
I nod. I hope we can. We’re both a little dead inside at the moment, but it shouldn’t be too hard to dress a walking zombie, right?
Walking up the stairs, I look back over my shoulder. Owen is still looking at me, but his eyes are filled with concern instead of his usual playfulness.
We enter Portland, Oregon late. After dropping Owen and Mowgli off at his mom’s house, I bring Echo and Freddie over to mine. The drive isn’t long. Our parents live only a mile away. Since we basically missed Christmas, our parents decided to celebrate the next day with us.
I already told the Stevensons I would be over.
That was before I lost my fucking mind.
I don’t know how I am going to survive stepping inside that house. There are pictures of that monster everywhere. Pictures of a happy family. Reminders of a family mourning the loss of their father. Reminders of a secret that is killing me.
“Zoë?” Freddie calls out, nudging my shoulder from the backseat of my car.
I blink, looking at him over my shoulder. “Hm?”
“You kind of spaced out. Do you need a minute?”
I shake my head and turn off the car. “I’m fine.” My eyes drift over to Echo. She’s watching me from the corner of her eyes, her fingers playing with the bottom of her sweater. She hasn’t talked the entire ride. She just curled her hands into fists when Owen talked. “You finally get to meet my parents,” I announce, as if it wasn’t already known.
Freddie’s parents are on a cruise somewhere beautiful. They’ve always hated the snow, and winter in New England isn’t ideal for them. He decided not to head home even though his older brother invited him over. He might travel East for New Years.
We get out of the car and I watch Freddie’s eyes travel over every visible square inch of the house. “I honestly thought it’d be bigger,” he says. “Hm, you’re not as rich as I presumed.”
Echo rolls her eyes. I shrug. Freddie winks at me.
Mom designed the layout of this house. Dad and his men built it. It has six bedrooms, and five and half baths because it was meant for a big family. After I came along, Mom and Dad suffered too many losses to ever try again. The house was a little lonely, but my parents never made me feel alone.
To anyone passing by they’d think this was a million dollar home. Well, it is. With a three-car garage and a spacious backyard housing a pool and a hot-tub, everything about this place screams money. With a beautiful spiral staircase leading upstairs, the inside is stunning. I was always a little scared of breaking something when I was younger, to be honest.
“Zoë, sweetheart, is that you?” Mom calls out from the front door. “I’m as blind as a bat without my glasses.” She waves her hand at us to come forward and then crosses her arms over her chest to keep herself warm.
“Aww, she’s so tiny,” Freddie comments once we start walking.
“But she’s fierce,” I add.
Echo’s teeth chatter so she sprints to the door, wrapping her arms around my mother, and says hello before heading inside.
Mom’s green eyes travel up, up, up every step Freddie takes. “My lord, you are tall.” She glances at me and raises her eyebrows. “You must be a big teddy bear. I can see it in your eyes. Come here and let me give you a hug!”
Freddie grunts, not enjoying the comment, but he bends his knees a bit and hugs my mother when I introduce him. He lifts my mother off her feet, causing her to squeal in terror until he sets her down.
“There’s hot cocoa in the living room, and help yourself to anything in the fridge. Make yourself feel at home. There’s plenty of food. Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas, ma’am. Thank you for having me.”
Mom waves him off like it’s no big deal. For her, it isn’t. She loves having people over when they’re not busy with work. Especially for the holidays.
Now it is just the two of us standing at the front door, smiling at each other. Mom is five-one and is usually in heels, but tonight she’s in red Christmas pajamas and green Grinch socks. Her hair is down for a change, the brown locks making her look a few years younger. My mother is gorgeous with her flawless skin, high cheekbones and Cupid’s bow lips. Being fun-sized just makes her look adorable right now. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, sweetheart.” She throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “Hm, you’re feeling a little thin. Are you doing all right? Are you eating okay? Should I send you easier recipes? Slow cooker ones are ideal for the both of you. Echo can’t go wrong with those.”
“I’m fine, Mom. We’re doing just fine.”
She pulls back, brushing stray hairs off my face. “You know that word never settles right with me.”
Because every time I say I’m fine, I’m not.
“I know, but I mean it.” She rubs her thumb over my cheek and then pulls me down for a quick kiss on each cheek. “Let’s go inside. It’s too cold to be standing here.”
Mom chuckles. “That’s my plan, sweetheart. The colder you are, the longer you’ll stay.”
I roll my eyes playfully. “You’ll get sick of me by tomorrow. I guarantee it.”
“Hush. I could never. But let’s try to annoy your father. You could do no wr
ong in his eyes.”
I drop my eyes to the hardwood floors as we walk inside the house.
What would he think of me if he knew the truth?
His daughter is a murderer.
My father is sitting on his favorite black suede couch by the fireplace, a glass of scotch in hand. He isn’t a drinker but he bends the rules for the holidays.
Dressed like my mother in a red Christmas t-shirt with black pajama bottoms and green Grinch socks, this six-foot tall man looks ridiculous. But I love him. He runs a hand through this light brown hair after laughing at something Coco says.
Echo and Freddie are sitting opposite him, sipping on hot cocoa with plates of food on their laps.
“Angel,” Dad murmurs, setting his glass down on the coffee table to stand up. His light green eyes take me in before his lips curl up into a wide loving smile. “What kind of magic is up there in Seattle? Both of you girls get even more beautiful every time I see you.” He steps forward, arms stretched out. “Merry Christmas. Your mom and I are so elated that you could make it.” He kisses my forehead after squeezing me to death. “Is Owen coming over tomorrow?”
I nod, taking a seat beside him. “Yeah, he’s cat sitting so he can’t be here.”
Mom comes into the living room holding a tray of sweets. Freddie’s eyes widen when he sees the cinnamon buns. Echo snickers.
She’s too quiet. I don’t like it.
“Who wants to open presents? I’m too impatient to wait until tomorrow,” Mom announces, clapping her hands. She looks over at Freddie. “Zoë is wonderful at telling me what others love. I think you’re going to love your gifts.”
“Oh, I don’t…I didn’t…” Freddie glances between my parents and me. “I didn’t think we were doing gifts. I don’t have anything to give. That sounds rude of me. I thought–”
Dad sits up. “Don’t worry about it, son. We don’t need gifts. Having Zoë and her friends over are as good as it gets.”
“What he’s trying to say is they have a ton of cash to blow so they don’t mind,” Echo informs. “They love to spoil us. Even if it makes us uncomfortable.”
Mom and Dad nod proudly.
I wonder how much Echo will hate me once she realizes my parents took care of the rest of her family’s hospital debt. It was the plan all along. My parents love Echo like she’s their child. There was no way they were going to turn a blind eye to her struggles. Her mother wouldn’t allow it but after hours of negotiating with my father, she finally accepted the help.
Let Her Go Page 12
