Oh God, please don’t let him get to her.
Clenching my jaw, I set the diary on top of Crystal’s card. My hands were shaking. Gripping the side of the bed, I clutched it until my fingers hurt.
I couldn’t believe she wanted me to read it. Like I wanted to relive that hell through her eyes.
Music continued to thump from Felix’s room. I closed my eyes and focused on the beat, anything to get Crystal’s words out of my head.
I didn’t need her stupid diary.
There were no chains around me.
Davis McCoy would never touch me again. He was dead—killed himself in prison—and I was free. Squeezing my eyes shut, a screaming echo tore through the back of my brain, reminding me what a liar I was.
“It didn’t happen,” I whispered, desperately trying to believe it. Desperately trying to erase the night Davis broke his own rule.
Chapter Fifteen
Felix
The car rolled to a stop outside Strantham Academy. It was a brick school with upper class written all over it. I didn’t want to go there, but Troy worked his butt off getting me a scholarship and I couldn’t refuse.
I felt sick.
I didn’t want to walk into that place and have to meet people, learn names…be the new kid.
But I didn’t want to be stuck in Aunt Cassie’s house anymore either.
She’d let me make the room my own, but it still didn’t feel like home. And after three weeks of hiding out in there, I was kind of suffocating.
Aunt Cassie cleared her throat, sounding just as nervous as I was. “Do you, um…want me to walk you in, or…”
“Nah, I’m good.” Opening the door, I jumped out before she could fight me on it, but she actually looked kind of relieved.
I rolled my eyes and stalked away from the beat-up car. Someone snickered behind me, and I thought I heard them murmur, “Piece of junk.”
If they were talking about my aunt’s beat-up Ford Escort, they were right. The car was like a hundred years old with a dent in the back bumper and rust on the edge of the passenger door. It made a weird noise when it started up, but so far it’d gotten us everywhere we needed to go.
Too bad I wanted to duck for cover whenever I was in it. Talk about humiliation.
Gripping my bag strap, I took the concrete stairs two at a time and easily found the office. The lady at the front counter was cheerful and friendly. It kind of grated my nerves, but I couldn’t say why.
I tapped out a beat on the counter while I waited for Mrs. Tindal. She was my homeroom teacher, apparently. She was probably an old hag with a bad temper.
My lips twitched as my mind conjured up the worst. I couldn’t help it. Since Mom got sick, life had been one big suck-fest. Even up to the day she died Mom told me I was lucky, but I never felt it. I wasn’t a lucky one. I was a cursed kid who’d just lost everything.
“Hi, Felix.”
I spun around at the soft voice behind me and looked up at the red-haired teacher. She had a nice smile and gentle green eyes that seemed to understand.
It was a weird thing to think, but when she introduced herself to me and shook my hand, I couldn’t ignore the real way she gazed at me. Troy had warned me she knew my story. I was pretty pissed at first, but he told me that people knowing was helpful. According to Troy, Jane Tindal was not the type to gossip. She needed to know my history so she could help me.
“So, I bet you’re probably feeling pretty nervous right now.” She smiled. “But from what Troy’s told me, you’re a really strong kid, and I know you’re gonna do great at Strantham.”
I nearly told her to save the speech for someone who’d believe it, but her smile was sweet and I didn’t want to be mean.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to homeroom and pair you up with a buddy to take care of you today.”
I nodded, already hating the idea.
Her heels clipped on the floor as we wove through student traffic. I kept my head down. The less eye contact, the better. I could feel people checking me out, wondering who I was. I heard a few more snickers.
“What the hell is he wearing?”
Bunching my fist, I shoved it into the hoodie pocket. I’d wear Mom’s Christmas present ‘til the day I died. They didn’t know how much it meant to me. They hadn’t read Mom’s letter.
A memory of camping in our tiny living room one night flittered through my brain. Mom and I had stayed up late dreaming of rock bands and imagining a superstar life for us. Mom pretended she was my manager and I was this ace guitarist.
She’d promised to hook me up with lessons, but then she got sick and I didn’t want to anymore. She couldn’t fork out money for a guitar and lessons when we needed to pay medical bills. The money Art left could only stretch so far, and half of it was tied up in a trust fund that I’d get when I was eighteen.
Another snigger made my shoulders bunch. I made the mistake of looking up and caught a superior smirk from some asshole in his shiny leather shoes and a jacket that probably cost more than Aunt Cassie’s car.
I gritted my teeth and looked down, focusing on my scuffed-up Converse, black marks on the toe and a seam that was coming apart on the side.
It took an eternity to reach homeroom, but things didn’t get any easier when I walked in. I scanned the space and was met with more disdain and curiosity. Stupid rich kids. Entitled little pricks. They didn’t know what it was like to go without.
I wanted to walk for the door and mumble, “I’m outta here.” But where the hell would I go?
Back to the freaking clean zone?
Back to my room that was growing smaller by the day?
Back to Aunt Cassie with her twitchy smile and enough nervous energy to drive a sane person crazy?
I swallowed and hovered by Mrs. Tindal’s desk while she typed something into her laptop, then reached for a tattered novel on her desk.
“This is the book you’ll be reading for English. I’ll tell you more about it this afternoon when I see you, but I figured I’d give it to you now.”
The bell rang as I took the book off her. It looked boring and painful. I wasn’t really into reading. I preferred magazines like Billboard, Rolling Stone, and Q. I didn’t really give a shit about books with no color or life…just endless lines of words. Where was the fun in that?
“Okay, guys.” Mrs. Tindal clapped her hands. “Take your seats quickly. We’ve got a lot to get through this morning.”
Chairs scraped on the floor and there was a hurried shuffle as the students in 7JT did her bidding. She smiled at them and said a cheerful good morning. She then stepped up and put her arm around my shoulders. It reminded me of Mom, which made my throat start aching.
“This is Felix Grayson. He’s going to be with us for the rest of the year, and you need to make him feel welcome.”
I scanned faces again, catching a clump of boredom from some girls in the front corner, a smirk from the guy in the back, a predatory glare from the guy next to him. They’d be the ones I’d have to watch out for. In front of Evil Eyes was a blonde girl with full lips and eyes like sapphires. She was freaking hot with silky hair down to her waist. She looked like a model or an actress or something. My mouth went dry and my lips parted without my say-so. Her perfect forehead wrinkled as I stared at her, and it took everything in me to force my gaze to the other side of the room, where I met a curious set of eyes. They were brown like mine. This girl’s hair was blonde too but it was messy, shoulder-length with these scraggly curls. She looked like she really didn’t care about being pretty. Her thin lips lifted into a half-smile as she scratched the side of her nose. She was wearing black nail polish and a skull ring, so I was able to put her in my too-weird, no-fly zone.
Mrs. Tindal pointed to an eager-looking kid with a mouth full of metal. “Butler is gonna be your buddy for the next couple of days until you find your way around.”
Someone snorted in the back of the room and muttered, “Nice job, BUTT-ler.”
�
��Boys.” Mrs. Tindal’s warning was soft but full…enough to shut up the dickhead.
She smiled then indicated for me to head over to Butler. The guy stood from his seat, giving me a clear view of his checkered shirt and pressed pants with navy blue loafers. He had rich geek written all over him.
Dammit. I didn’t belong in this place.
They weren’t my people. Why the hell did Troy have to get me a scholarship to this school? I didn’t ask for it.
I wanted my old elementary back. I was popular in that place. I had friends, a happy life. Before Mom got sick, everything was perfect.
How the hell was I supposed to remember my promises to her when everything was so shit?
I wanted my mom.
The little kid inside me started wailing for her.
But I was smart enough to know that my unheard cries were pitiful. Saying them out loud wouldn’t do any good either. So, I forced my legs to move and shuffled across to Butler, who shook my hand and showed me where to sit.
I slumped into the chair beside his and had to fight the urge to flee through that classroom door. Walking the streets wouldn’t feel any less lonely than sitting in this foreign room surrounded by strangers. I’d never felt more isolated in my entire life.
For the first time since Mom died it hit me, and I realized just how alone I was. Everything that meant anything was gone. All I had left were my memories, and they suddenly didn’t feel like enough.
Chapter Sixteen
Cassie
Work had been busy. The children’s session in the morning was loud and chaotic. The lady who usually ran it called in sick, so I had to take her place. It was not my thing, and I muddled my way through a book reading and tried to engage the wriggling toddlers with a bright happy voice. I did a terrible job and came away exhausted.
At lunch, I realized I forgot to pack any food for myself. Getting Felix out the door on time had been enough to handle. I didn’t want to spend money at the expensive cafe around the corner, so I decided to go hungry instead. That put me in a foul mood…not at all helped by the two little boys who decided to play fight in the New Year’s Read-a-lutions Challenge area. They knocked over the big display Aubrey and I had spent hours making, and then they scampered away without even apologizing.
I stayed after closing to fix it up. I hated the idea of leaving the mess overnight.
By the time I dragged my sorry butt to the car I was tired, hungry, cranky, and in no mood to deal with any more crap. It was in that moment, as I gazed at my watch then unlocked my car, that I realized I had totally forgotten about Felix.
“Shit,” I whispered, slamming the door shut and starting up the engine.
I had meant to pick him up from school four hours ago. The deal was that I’d collect him and he’d do his homework in the library while I finished work. I’d checked with Greg. He’d said okay. But those stupid boys with their play fighting made me forget.
I chewed my lip as I raced home. I hit the end of rush hour and it took me nearly twice as long to get there. I worried the entire way. Had he made it home without getting lost? What if he walked the wrong way? What if someone took him? Hurt him?
My stomach was roiling by the time I jerked to a stop in my driveway. I jumped out of the car and ran to the front door. It was locked. The keys in my hand shook as I wrestled with them.
“Felix!” I shouted as soon as I was inside. “Felix, are you home?”
I scanned the living room and kitchen, then darted down the hallway, flinging his bedroom door open without knocking.
He was lying on the bed with headphones covering his ears. His arms were crossed as he scowled up at the ceiling. At first I couldn’t tell if he’d seen me sagging with relief in his doorway, but then his muscles grew a little tighter, his eyebrows knitting more deeply.
“I’m sorry,” I called, trying to be heard above the music that was no doubt blasting in his ears.
Holding my breath, I entered his man-cave, stepping over a pair of dirty socks and accidentally kicking his book bag with my toe. I winced but didn’t make a fuss as I hovered against the edge of his bed.
“Just go away.” His voice was low and icy.
I reached for his headphones, intent on pulling them free so we could talk. He flinched, his brown eyes dark with anger as he glared up at me.
“I’m sorry. I got caught up at work and—”
“Whatever.” He pulled the headphones off. “I don’t need you to pick me up. I’m not a baby. I can walk home.”
“Did someone show you the way?”
He rolled his eyes. “I found it on my own.”
I wanted to ask him how long that took, but something about the tight set of his mouth kept me quiet. “Good for you.” I smiled. His dark glare disintegrated it. I cleared my throat, noting the angry music blasting from the headphones. Smoothing down my skirt, I tried to think of something to ease the tension between us, but all I could come up with was, “How was school?”
“Shit!” he growled. “It was total shit! Did you expect it to be anything else?”
His sharp words felt like a slap to the face.
“I’m a twelve-year-old orphan starting at a new school. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
I did. But I didn’t have the courage to say it. I couldn’t stand there dredging up my dirty past. Even if it could have helped him, or created some kind of common bond between us, I couldn’t bring myself to say it. A normal mother would have sat down, taken his hand maybe, told him everything was going to be okay.
But I couldn’t.
Because I wasn’t his mother.
I wasn’t normal.
The thought was kind of debilitating. Instead of acting like a grown-up and getting over myself, I threaded my fingers together and swallowed, bobbing my head as I backed out of the room.
He looked at me like I was deranged. I cast my eyes to his messy floor and then shut the door behind me. As soon as it clicked I bolted to my bedroom, slamming the door and staggering to my bed on legs that wouldn’t work properly.
I wasn’t normal.
I couldn’t do the job Crystal wanted me to. How did I look after a hurting kid when I couldn’t even talk to him?
Crystal’s diary caught my eye. I snatched it, hoping for answers as I flicked to the second entry. It was dated several weeks after her previous one.
I have shelter now. A roof over my head. I’m safe, yet I’m not.
I still feel afraid. Every time I shut my eyes I expect to hear the door creak open, to have that wave of sick travel through me as he lifts the covers and gets into my bed.
I feel filthy. I will never be clean enough to wash his dark soul out of me.
But I have a baby growing in my belly. A pure, innocent life. It’s a boy.
Arthur took me to the hospital and I had a scan. I saw him. His little head and arms. He’s so tiny. So vulnerable.
My little boy.
He’ll enter this world unscathed, oblivious to the evils that exist here. I’m going to protect him. I will never let anyone take advantage of him, or hurt him.
But I’m scared.
Will I be enough?
How can a dirty wretch like me love something so pure?
I slapped the diary closed and placed it on my bedside table. Sitting on my hands, I rocked on the edge of my bed.
My skin crawled with the words dirty and filthy. I was one of the cleanest people I knew, but still, no matter how hard I scrubbed, I couldn’t get his pudgy fists off my skin. The pain Davis inflicted was buried deep, invisible to the human eye but black and purple against my soul.
Just like Crystal, I never felt clean enough…whole enough.
I’d never be able to love anyone properly, because I still believed I was a dirty wretch who belonged in a basement cellar with the rats.
I forgot her son. I left him to walk home alone, no doubt scared he couldn’t find his way. School was awful for him and I didn’t even have the guts to empathiz
e. Crystal feared she wasn’t enough. But I knew I wasn’t.
So, what the hell was I supposed to do about Felix?
If I couldn’t care for him, who would?
Chapter Seventeen
Troy
I paused outside Cassie’s bungalow door and took a moment to catch my breath. I had no idea why I felt nervous. Maybe because I hadn’t called and Cassie would probably appreciate a little forewarning of my visit. Or maybe it was because my insides jittered at the thought I’d be seeing her again.
Since Christmas she’d been with me, always lingering in the back of my mind. I found myself thinking of her at random times throughout the day, wondering how she was doing. I’d look for excuses to call and check in on Felix.
Which was exactly what I was doing that evening.
Felix would have had his first day at Strantham and I wanted to stop by and find out how it went. I figured I’d do it on my way home and maybe offer to buy everyone a takeout dinner or something.
There was a great Mexican place down the road.
The idea made me smile and I knocked twice, tapping my finger on the doorframe while I waited.
The security light above my head flicked on and the curtain twitched before the locks clicked. Cassie opened the door. She looked pale and sad…unnerved.
I felt an instant rush of concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yep.” She crossed her arms and nodded. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m sorry to not call first, but I wanted to see how Felix’s first day went.”
Cassie’s tight expression folded. She looked devastated.
“That bad, huh?”
“I just…” She sighed and winced, looking on the verge of tears. “I forgot to pick him up after school. He had to walk home on his own. He didn’t say it, but he probably got lost or…” She shook her head. “I’m the worst aunt ever.”
“No,” I softly disagreed. “You’re human.” Stepping into the house, I gazed down at her agonized expression and tried to get rid of it with a wink and a smile. “We all make mistakes.”
Hole Hearted (A Songbird Novel) Page 8
