Kasia met his gaze.
“He beat her until she was unrecognizable. Bailey said the only way to let go was to face it head-on. Ignoring the pain doesn’t make it stop.”
“‘Chunks that she could handle’? I can’t handle this one. What if I…what if I remember more? What if I’ve buried other things that hurt?”
“You might have.”
“I don’t even want to deal with this.”
He chewed the inside of his cheek, refused to offer some useless platitude.
“Maybe it was lonely and numb, maybe even fake, but it was comfortable.”
God, make her see. “Kasia. Have you ever broken a bone?”
Her face wrinkled in confusion.
Yeah, it was abrupt. But stick with me.
“Yeah?” She waited.
“Before you got a cast, the doctor reset the bone, right?”
“Sure.”
“Well, imagine you broke your leg and there was no one around to reset it. Desert island. What would happen?”
“I guess the bone would heal itself.”
“In the wrong position though.”
“So…bent up, then. Ugly.”
“You might even get comfortable with it eventually. You could still do what you’d always done. Only with a limp.”
“Which would probably make climbing difficult.”
He nodded, let a half-smile win for a heartbeat. “And dancing.”
She shrugged, but he caught a faraway look in her eyes before she dropped her gaze to the ground again.
“I think your heart works the same way. You can shut out the memories and keep going, but you’ll have to live with a heart that’s healed wrong.”
“I don’t know. I’m sort of a fan of numb at the moment.”
“Kasia, you’d be able to dance again.”
For a moment, hope filled her eyes and then flickered out just as quickly. “What if I’m too afraid of the pain?”
He needed her to see how serious he was. He cupped her face in his hands, ducked enough to gaze evenly into her eyes. “You deserve to dance—and climb. And if you’ll let me, I’ll help you.”
Jayce might kill him, but he meant it.
Besides, they weren’t going in such different directions anymore.
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “I’m not going anywhere. If you wake up and need to unload at three in the morning, I’ll listen. If you get angry, I’ll take whatever punches you need to throw. When you’re finally ready to cry, I’ll hold you if you’ll let me. And when you’re ready to dance, I’ll be there.”
~*~
Kasia stared into those dusky blue eyes that held the same fire as her daddy’s. He meant every word.
She wanted to hug him and cling to him, believe for all she was worth.
She wanted to run. He might expect something in return. Sure, he’d been wonderful so far, but he was a guy.
God, clear my head. Help me to watch for the things I missed…with Blake. To walk every step with my eyes wide open.
“I don’t have any expectations,” he blurted out.
“What?”
“Well, I don’t expect you to tell me everything. You don’t have to tell me anything. And I don’t expect to be the only person in your life that matters. I mean, I know you’ve got A.J., Jayce, your family. Just whatever. If you need me, say the word.”
“All I know for sure right now is I have no idea how any of this will work. I don’t know how to be your friend. To be anybody’s. I hardly know how to be myself.”
“I get that this feels like your whole world right now, but it’s not. Please remember you’re more than this, and”—he stared off over the valley—“God can bring you through this. Stronger.”
She could only pray that was true.
~*~
Zan was the last person who should offer free consultation on what God would do. Yeah, he trusted God, but his faith was wrapped in the acknowledgement that God can—probably does—disagree with people on what’s best.
A sobering thought.
They followed the trail back down in weighty silence.
At the edge of a large boulder, Zan climbed down backward, the roots and stones beside it his footing and handholds. He offered Kasia a hand, and she took it, used the same footholds as a precarious staircase.
Back on a level trail, he caught her eye. “After you.”
She paused and her mouth quirked into a sad smile. Her fingers tugged at his hand, kept him at her side.
She didn’t let go. Her hand felt slight—not weak, but small and soft—against his. Like it belonged there. The hardest part of all this was—again—trusting God for someone he cared about. While he watched her hurt.
Or shut down and choose not to hurt.
But God came through for Bailey. He would come through for Kasia too. Somehow.
That much Zan knew.
Never in his life would he be able to forget this day. The smell of decaying leaves, the thud of their feet on the packed-dirt trail beneath them, the rich hues of the treetops nearby and at a distance in the valley below—Gamecock garnet, Vanderbilt gold, a hint of Clemson orange.
The day Auburn described being raped.
35
Fresh honey-wheat bread, deli ham, crisp lettuce and bacon. Kasia’s stomach was intensely grateful for the club sandwich Zan bought her. Her stomach had been rumbling louder than his old Jeep. She could have eaten two.
She sat, crossed legs pulled up on the seat, and bit deep into the messy sandwich again.
They were on their way to the Mill so he could help her set up the activity center for the first day of homework club.
She craved it. Craved the purpose and the chance to get her mind off herself.
Her gaze fell on his wrist as he shifted gears. He had on the bracelet she’d brought him from Peru. Something unfamiliar pinched her heart.
“I meant to ask before if you could use some company up here. I’m free two afternoons a week.”
“You don’t have practice?”
“Tuesdays and Thursdays we take a quick batting practice and work out. As long as I sign in and do my gym time before it closes at eleven, it’s flexible.”
“I could definitely use you on Tuesdays. Kyle’s got the rest of the week covered.”
“Tuesdays for sure, then.”
Ugh. Why did she mention Kyle? She wished Zan had told her he didn’t care whether Kyle had it covered or not. “Thanks.”
“Kasia Bernolak, that’s not you, is it?” A woman in purple scrubs called from the end of the sidewalk.
Shea! Thank You, God. Kasia jogged down the walk and hugged her, looked around for Ki-ki.
“’S been too long, girl. Your grandpa and grandma still running the old neighborhood?”
“No, Dziadzia passed away almost a year and a half ago. Busia’s in a home now, but she’s well. How about you?”
“I got my nursing degree. I’m doin’ all right.” She didn’t sound sure. “We’re doin’ all right.” Shea eyed Zan over Kasia’s shoulder. “Got yourself some fine company.”
“Oh no. He’s just a friend.” But he did look entirely too handsome for her own good.
“If he treats you well, you might want to see if you can change that.” She winked. “I heard you gonna be up here tutoring the kids. Ki-ki’s ’bout to bust wide open. She can’t wait to see ya.”
“I bet she’s changed so much.”
“Nine and a little miss priss. Listen, I know you probably want to meet with Mrs. Anderson, but come by and see us sometime, hear?”
Kasia smiled. “I will.” She hugged Shea again and the woman left.
In the activity center, Kasia scoped out the workspace, and Zan helped her move tables around. The busyness helped, but her thoughts drifted back to Shea. Her strength. Her husband never could hold her back, trouble that he was.
~*~
As Zan drove back through Huntington, he kept an eye on the rearview mirror. A sporty black
car had pulled out behind them as they’d left the neighborhood, but he wouldn’t mention that to Kasia. It hung about two blocks behind for a while, and he managed to lose it with the traffic lights.
It may not have even been Blake.
Zan shouldn’t be paranoid. Somebody needed a clear head, and that fell to him. He turned up the heat and made sure one of the vents was pointed at Kasia. The hard top didn’t keep the inside warm enough. He should start keeping a blanket in the back for her.
Kasia’s phone rang, and she checked the caller ID before she answered. “Hey, Tatusiu…no, I’m fine. Yes, sir. I’m with Zan now…”
She told him about reconnecting with Shea, about class, her new apartment, her plans for homework club. But she neglected to mention Blake. The rape obviously wasn’t a phone conversation, but Zan had expected his name to come up.
He cast his eyes to the rearview mirror again. No little black sports car.
When Kasia hung up, Zan peeked at her sideways. “Did you tell your dad about Blake waiting for you in the lot last week?”
“No.” She crossed her arms.
Zan stopped at a light, and a black sports car like Blake’s pulled up next to him, its roof about level with his knee. He could only see down into an empty passenger seat. He decided to let Kasia keep staring out her window.
But he did punch the gas and beat the car off the line the second he saw green.
The car stayed on his six, and Zan prepared himself for another face-off in the lot. He made a mental note of the tag number so he could report Blake to campus security. But the car turned left into the Finley Lake apartment complex across from campus.
Exactly where Jayce said Blake lived.
That clinched it.
Kasia was oblivious though, and for once, Zan was glad for it. He parked and then turned off the ignition. He jumped out and stretched before he walked around to help Kasia down.
When he got to her, she pointed to the middle of the lot. She made no move to get out.
“What is it?” he asked.
“My car.” He could hardly hear her.
“Which one’s yours again?”
“The one with my name on it.” She bit out the words.
He turned and scanned the lot, stopped cold. An old gray sedan faced them the next aisle over. Thick, spray-painted letters sliced across the entire hood.
SLUT.
~*~
Zan lifted Kasia down and wrapped her in a hug. “That is not your name. It’s not you.”
She held onto his jacket pockets and spoke into his collar. “Who’s already seen that? How many people know what I’ve done with Blake? I can’t—my ministry, Zan. How can I serve God if that’s what people think of me?”
“Kasia,” he said, “you are not—you never were—that. I can’t even say your name in the same sentence as that word. That name is a lie, and anyone who knows you will see it for the slander it is, all right?”
“All right.” Barely a whisper.
“Let’s get you inside. I’ll call Jayce and we’ll take care of this.” He dialed immediately. “Hey. I need you to meet me at the girls’ place.” He hung up and told her, “Jayce is on his way.” Her face smiled, but the rest of her didn’t know it. She looked absolutely lost. When he offered a hand, she took it.
The walk was silent, but a few times, she squeezed his hand and he squeezed back.
I’m here.
Jayce sprinted toward the steps of her building as they approached. He slowed, caught his breath. “What’s up?”
Zan guided Kasia to the steps and let go of her hand, followed as she started up. “Kasia’s car was vandalized. I thought we could get her settled here and go handle it together.”
Jayce nodded once. “You got it. Hey, Kosh.” She looked back.
“This is gonna end soon. One way or the other, Blake’ll stop. If I have to pound him. We’ll finish this.”
She thanked him, tight-lipped, and climbed the steps.
A.J. jumped up from the kitchen table. “What happened?”
Zan reached for Kasia’s hand. “I’ll come back when we’re finished, just to check in, but I’ll probably need your registration to file the security report. Is it in the car?”
Kasia pulled her keys out of her pack. “Glove box.”
He took them, pulled her into one last hug. “It’s not true,” he whispered once more.
She hugged him back this time, but her expression said she still wasn’t convinced. And that wrenched his heart.
“Hey, ah, lemme pray real quick ’fore we head.” Jayce waited a moment, until he had their full attention. “God, You know the truth about Kosh, ’cause she’s Yours. Blake is a liar, and it’d be nice if You’d shut him up. Mostly, though, I’m askin’ You to speak the truth into Kasia’s heart. Tell her how beautiful she is. How much You love her. That You and us—none of us are goin’ anywhere. Tell her heart, since her ears are skeptical. Thanks. Amen.”
The guys were out the door and both on the phone within seconds. Jayce with campus security, Zan with Huntington Metro PD. The police arrived in minutes.
“Security said they’d pull the video footage and see what they had,” Jayce informed Zan.
“She’s got a protective order against this guy,” Zan said to one of the Metro officers. “He’s getting progressively worse. What do we need to do?”
“Where is she now? We need a statement.”
Zan gave the apartment number, and the officers left. He snapped some pictures with his phone, for insurance.
Jayce ambled over as campus security left. “What a mess, huh?”
“This guy. Every time I think of him, I want to hurt him more,” Zan said. “Do you have Pastor Bernolak’s number in your phone?”
Jayce cocked an eyebrow. “You callin’?”
“He needs to know.”
“Oh, I’m with ya on that. Just…”
“He needs to know. If Kasia and I both end up telling him, he’ll hear it twice, but I’m not a hundred percent sure she’ll call. If she doesn’t like that I did it, I’ll deal with it.”
Jayce nodded and passed his phone to Zan.
Kasia’s dad answered on the second ring. “Jayce, what can I do for you?”
“Mr. Bernolak, it’s Zan, not Jayce. Kasia’s fine, but something happened. I thought you should know.” He ran down the list of offenses. “Jayce and I filed reports tonight, and we’ll try to clean up the car after we check in on the girls.”
Mr. Bernolak asked a few questions before the conversation wrapped up.
Zan answered them all as honestly as he could, tried not to betray Kasia’s trust but to still take care of her.
“Zan, does Kasia know you called me?”
“No, sir. But I’m sure she’ll call you herself soon. She needed to get a handle on things first, I think.”
A measured breath. “Thanks for keeping me in the loop. I may see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir.” Zan returned Jayce’s cell and knocked on the hood of Kasia’s sedan. “What do you think?”
Jayce scraped at the spray paint. “She needs a new paint job.”
“Well, let’s get her one then.”
“Yeah. I know a guy.” He smirked and dialed his cell. “Hey, Frankie. Jayce here. How busy are ya tomorrow?”
~*~
Kasia was clean—on the outside anyway. She pulled on her pink-and-green flannel pajama bottoms and her dad’s sweatshirt. Her fuzzy black slippers completed the bedtime ensemble, and she didn’t care what it all looked like together. She needed hot tea.
She padded out into the main room and saw Zan and Jayce with A.J.
She went into the kitchen and found her favorite mug. The tea kettle whistled before she’d even picked out the tea she wanted. A.J. must’ve put it on the stove for her.
“Kasia.” A.J. appeared at the bar that separated the kitchen from the den. “Jayce and I want to run your car out to Frankie’s tonight for a couple of hours. It’s 7:00, so…
maybe we’ll be back by 10:00, 10:30. Is that all right?”
She wanted company. Distraction. “Um, sure. Do you think I should go?”
“No, we got it.”
“I’ll stay with you,” Zan offered.
“Oh. Dobrze.” Her heart picked up tempo. He affected her more than she needed him to.
He tossed her keys to Jayce, and they left. “Are you hungry?” he asked.
“Not really.”
“If I ordered a pizza, would you eat some?”
She shrugged and pulled her teabag out of her mug.
He sat on the couch and brought her up to speed.
“Thank you. I couldn’t have stood out there and done all that,” she said.
“The police came by here though?”
“Yeah, just for a few questions. I was in a better frame of mind by then, so…”
“Did you call your parents?”
She played with the faux fur of her slipper. “I don’t want to worry them.”
She glanced over at Zan. His furrowed brow confused her. “You don’t plan to tell them at all?”
“I wasn’t.” His gaze felt heavy. She didn’t like the pressure. “You disapprove.”
He picked up one of A.J.’s batik throw pillows, gave it a squeeze, and set it back down. Then he adjusted it. Twice.
“You think I have to?” Kasia asked. Of course he did.
“Well, I…sort of already called.”
What? “You didn’t think that was my decision?”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I guess I expected you to make a different one. I figured I’d let your parents know Jayce and I took care of the police report and campus security. Things they’d probably have wanted to come down and handle.”
What’s up, presumptuous? Why did people think they knew what was best for her? The word on the car. “Who’d you talk to?” Do not say Tatuś.
“Your dad.”
She shut her eyes. “Did you tell him what the graffiti said?”
“Yes.” His head dropped.
“Was he disappointed in me?”
It snapped back up. “What? Disappointed in you?”
He didn’t get any of this.
Strains of Silence Page 25
