Charming (21 page)

Haley bolted across the street instead and found Christine sitting on the couch, staring out the window, arms crossed over her chest.

“You have some serious explaining to do.” Christine slammed the door and sat Haley down on the couch, standing over her with an attempted raised eyebrow. “You’ve got one boy wrapped around your finger—that you apparently just pissed off—one who would take you back if you blinked the right way, who you’ve had sneaking in and out of your house for at least the last week.”

Haley’s stomach dropped to her feet. “Sneaking?”

“Yeah, and I’m going to guess Chris figured you out and just took off. And here I really thought he’d be the one, the way you looked at him and him at you, and oh, Haley, shit. I swear I haven’t smoked anything for at least an hour and I already forgot about Niles.” Christine plopped onto the couch. “Who is this mysterious third guy? The one who ran off just now.”

No more lies. “Listen, I’ve been acting weird, right?”

“Batshit crazy.”

Haley grabbed Christine by the arm, ignoring the personal space rule. “This person you saw coming in and out of my window, what if I told you he has Dad and Joce, even Niles?”

Confusion wiped all expressions from Christine’s face. She blinked. “I’d say that you have even more explaining to do.”

“Someone’s using my family—me—to get to the Charmings. I just told Chris, which is why he took off.”

“Haley,” Christine said, hands shaking. “Haley, why haven’t you…? This is so like you to take abuse, so fucking like you.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“You’re lucky I don’t smack your face. Why? Why haven’t you asked for help? Told anyone?”

Gripping Christine’s small forearm harder, Haley said, “I’ve wanted to go to the police, but he’s watching me, listening, following. There are bugs all over my house and probably trackers on my cell. He cut off Dad’s finger and sent it to me.”

Tears flooded Christine’s eyes, and Haley fought hard to remain in control, to keep from cracking. “Look, I have all the evidence in my house. I’ll go home now and move it all to the safe. Just… can you handle going to the police and telling them I need help?”

“No way. I’m not leaving you alone.” Christine bounced her leg up and down, then pulled a cigarette from a pack in her jeans pocket and lit it. “What’s he look like? What’s he want with the Charmings?”

“I don’t know what he wants, Christine. And he’s male, six feet tall, maybe a little taller, pale skin, thin build. I’ve never met him. That description I got from convincing Foster’s to give me their security tapes.”

“Security tapes?”

Haley shook Christine. “These details aren’t important. Will you go to the police or not?”

“But you’ll be alone.”

“I’ve been alone a long time, Christine. A long, long time. I’ll be okay.”

She nodded. “I’ll go. Just… I love you, you know. I’m not the only one, either.”

“Thank you. I love you, too.” Haley ran home, wiping away tears from her eyes. Wary of the cameras, she went to the fridge and hid the finger-containing envelope beneath a microwaveable meal, then popped the frozen tray in the microwave and slipped the envelope under her shirt. Then she went to her room and kicked off her shoes. Haley sat on the bed and leaned forward, then pulled all the other envelopes from under the mattress. Who knew if the psycho watched now, but Haley wasn’t taking chances.

She threw the proof into Dad’s safe, along with the security tape from Fosters.

Haley prayed Christine could handle this, prayed Chris kept his parents safe, prayed she could find a way to move on without Dad and Joce, without Niles.

Because Haley knew she’d have to.

aley leaned against the cold, hard safe at the back of Dad’s closet and fought to even her breathing, chest empty and hollow. Letting go now would be so easy, just curl into a ball and sob for hours. She pictured what the police would do when they showed up to search the house for clues about Niles and found her in the fetal position. She how pathetic she’d feel for giving up, for not doing more to save her friends, her family. She pictured the awful things Chris would say about her to reporters.

Not giving up.

Never giving up.

Haley stood, trembling, and took a step forward—

The front door slammed, and glass crashed to the floor. The picture of Dad and Joce that hung on the wall right by the door. Had to be.

Haley swallowed hard. Deep breath. She’d face the psycho, even though he entered the house the same way Dad had so many times before, storming the castle, breaking things, setting every nerve on edge.

“Ha-ley.” Dad’s voice. Dad’s slurred speech. Dad sounded furious.

Please, God. Please, keep me safe
. She tiptoed to the closet door and peeked around the frame, then gaped down the hall. Dad stood there, straight and tall and glaring. Not searching but holding still, hands flexing at his sides.

One window in his room, but on the opposite wall.

Haley would never make it.

“Where you, piece of shit daughter?” The floorboards creaked. “Don’t love your family? Scrawny ass boy, either?”

Dad couldn’t be serious. He was free. Why wasn’t
he
going to the police?

She came out of hiding, stood in his room, and faced him. “Right here.”

“Look at this mess. You’ve caused.” Dad barreled down the hall, into Haley, and knocked her off her feet.

Gasping from the impact with the hardwood floor, Haley kicked and shoved and pushed, digging her nails into Dad’s sweaty skin. “Get off.”

“Must fix this.” Dad squeezed his left hand around Haley’s throat, the stub of his ring finger acting as a dagger and pressing into her esophagus, and pinned her arms down with his knees. He drew back his fist. “Teach lesson.”

“Daddy, please,” Haley choked out. “Please.”

He shook his head, hair dripping beads of water—or more sweat. “Joce, I’m coming. I’m helping.”

Dad punched Haley. His fist connected with her eye and made her ears ring; splitting pain tore down the center of her head. She couldn’t see. She couldn’t see anything other than his fury, the faraway look in Dad’s eyes, couldn’t help but wonder how he got so strong.

Drugs.

“Please.”

“Your fault. All your fault.” He drew back, but this time he punched Haley’s stomach, over, and over, and over.

No air. No air left in the world. No hope, no love.

Knees. Haley had knees. She knew she needed to use them, draw them up and force them into Dad’s groin. Haley kicked, pushed, thrashed, slipped away and ran to the kitchen. She pulled a pan out of a cabinet and gripped hard to the handle.

“I’m coming, Joce. Coming, coming, coming.” Dad grabbed the back of Haley’s shirt and hauled her around.

She used the momentum to slam the cast-iron pan against his skull. Dad stumbled to the side but quickly recovered and dove, knocking Haley’s head into the oven.

He pulled at her shirt, thrust her head against the metal again and again and again.

Everything swirled: Dad, the kitchen, lights, her vision.

“I couldn’t help,” Haley whispered. “He still would have killed you.”

“You’re so fucking stupid, Maggie. Such a failure, a cheating whore, a control freak who can’t see how much pain you’re causing me. Why don’t you see me, Mags? See me? I need your help.” Dad fell back, letting Haley’s shirt go, giving her an opportunity to escape. “God, what am I doing?”

She crawled to her side, coughing up blood, pain tearing through with every movement. Haley pulled on the tacky linoleum and dragged her legs out from under Dad, moving closer to freedom, outside, help. The door was so close. So freaking close.

“Where do you think you’re going, Maggie? I need you, and you’re leaving me.”

Haley froze and closed her eyes. “I’m not Maggie.”

“How could you leave us? I’m supposed to ruin you now. Ruin you.” Dad opened a drawer, and metal clanged against metal. “Supposed to kill you. Have to. To save her.”

Glancing over her shoulder, Haley started at the sight of a butcher’s knife in Dad’s hands. She ignored the screaming pain and jumped to her feet, then hobbled for the door.

“Silly Maggie.” Dad punched the back of her head and knocked Haley to the hardwood. He cried hysterically, sobbing. “Running away from problems instead of facing them. Always. Always, Mags.”

Haley struggled to breathe, to stay conscious. “Please, Dad. Please, help me.”

“You ran from your mom, from the farm.” Dad pulled Haley’s arms around her back, then held them down with his knee. “You ran from me when I needed you most. You left your children. You left me with a child who looks just like you. I have to see your face every day. Every day, Mags.”

Haley screamed, louder and louder and louder, choking on her own sobs. “Help. Someone, please, help me.”

Dad dragged the tip of the knife along the inside of Haley’s arms. Fire seared down to her wrists, and blood pooled in her palms. Oh God. No. No. “Don’t kill me, Daddy. Please.”

Bucking, Haley used every ounce of strength she had to knock Dad off. He fell back and she made it to the door, palm closing around the knob, before he grabbed a handful of Haley’s hair and jerked her around to face him.

Not short enough
.

“Save Joce.” Dad launched his fist against Haley’s cheek, kicked her stomach, hit, hit, hit, kicked, kicked, kicked.

Blackness filled the edge of Haley’s vision.

She was helpless, woozy… falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Unconscious.

Everything blurred. Machines beeped. Right hand stuck to something. People screamed and shouted, far away. They were all so far away.

So much pain.

Daddy killed me.

Haley blacked out, drifting into pain free oblivion.