Charming (24 page)

Haley shook her head. “Not twelve. Thirteen. He wasn’t quite miserable enough when I was twelve. Mom had theories that the euphoria he experienced from all the pain meds is what led him down the same destructive path as my grandfather, to the bottle, and once on the bottle, he never got off. He didn’t get angry until he was ready to return to work and medically denied to operate the crane. That’s when life got… bad. Dad didn’t want to be a stay at home dad. He yelled at her so much about that, said he couldn’t take it, that he needed to get out. Jocelyn was at a friend’s one night, and Dad went on a rampage at the dinner table. Mom suggested he join some sort of clubs, like book clubs or something. That was her mistake. Dad slapped her right in front of me, threatened me for looking at him with ‘such accusing eyes.’”

“I want to fucking kill him.”

More violence. “Please don’t say that—or anything like it.”

Chris pounded the dirt, Mom’s grave, lost in his rage. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell anyone or ask for help. How could you not ask for help?”

“I’m a runner,” Haley whispered, glancing across the headstones, out at the naked trees surrounding the cemetery. “Apparently.”

“This is my fault.” Chris ghosted a finger across her cheek, tracing the width of the bruise around Haley’s eye, avoiding the row of stitches above her brow. “And this… this is unbearable. Look at me. Please.”

She looked.

“I told my dad everything, in private, and he hired body guards. The cops know.”

“Great.” Tears blinded Haley. “You’ll be safe.”

“Dad told me I was an idiot for leaving you alone.” Chris wrapped an arm around Haley’s shoulder and pulled her face to his chest. “And he was so right. If I’d stayed with you… instead of running off and being angry, your dad wouldn’t have put a finger on you, Haley. And he never will again. Ever. I won’t tell you what I’ll do to him if he tries. But just know: he is not safe in your presence.”

Haley soaked in Chris’s fresh scent of soap and fabric softener, and cried. She needed this, this relief that came from other people knowing her secret, her pain. But crying only hurt the broken rib, only made breathing more difficult.

“What about your sister? Does she know? Does he hurt her too?”

“No. There are so many things Jocelyn doesn’t know, things I’ve protected her from. I only recently told Joce that Mom and I were coming to get her from her friend’s house the night of the accident. But I didn’t tell her that we were going to get help, that Dad abused Mom and me and we couldn’t take it anymore. I just… I couldn’t, Chris. Dad treats her so well. And he’s all she has left of our parents. And she always defended him, his bad moods, his drinking, his stupid self-worth. Mom asked me to keep Joce in the dark. Mom thought if she knew, she’d look at Dad differently and he’d hurt her too. All these years, Chris, and I’ve been so afraid of what he might one day do to her. All these years, I took every slap, every alcohol-induced argument for
her
. I was afraid if I disappeared, she’d be the only one left to hit.”

Words flowed out of Haley, truth, confessions. “And he loves her so much more than he loves me that he was willing to kill me to protect her, to save her.”

Chris stood and helped Haley to her feet. He stared through the cuts and bruises, straight into the wounded soul chained to an invisible concrete wall. He sunk his hand into her hair, drew closer, bit his bottom lip. Even though every part of Haley was covered in disgusting purple bruises and stitched up cuts, Chris wanted to be with her, to hold her close. “No one will ever hurt you again, not like this.”

His timing couldn’t be worse.

“I have to find Joce and Niles.”

“We will.” Chris pulled away, not removing his fingers from Haley’s, and guided her to his car. “But let’s go grab some of your things from your house and then go talk to my parents.”

“How’d you know where to find me?” she asked as they drove the short distance between the cemetery and her house, so much faster in a car.

Chris smiled and parked by the curb a few houses down, probably trying to stay out of the psycho’s range. “You know that idiot who always cat-calls to you when I pull up and try to talk, you know, right before you run away?”

Haley growled. “Yeah, Richard Harvey, the ass who sings Niles’s
Cecilia
to me, like I’m a whore. The jerk overheard me telling Christine about it and hasn’t stopped.”

“That’s the guy. He doesn’t have a filter. Well, he lives up the street from you. I saw you walking this way a lot. Wasn’t too hard to figure out what you’d be doing in a cemetery.”

Chris opened the door and helped Haley out. She stepped onto the concrete and walked along the street. They paused next to Dad’s truck, and she stared at the unassuming house she shared with her broken family.

One step.

Boom
.

The house exploded.

he force of the explosion knocked Chris and Haley against Dad’s truck and the air right out of her lungs. She opened her mouth and screamed but couldn’t hear anything other than ringing. Heat singed her lashes and radiated through her clothes.

Chris slid down to the asphalt, staring at nothing. Flames flickered in his eyes—mirroring what went on behind Haley, what she refused to see—and he stuck his fingers in his ears, jiggling.

They had to move. Quick. One glance back at the fire…

The fire. Her house. Her
house
. The psycho knew what she said to the police. Had he found out about Christine? Oh God.
Christine
.

Haley had to make sure she was okay. “Chris, we have to check on Christine.”

No response.

“Chris?”

His head sagged.

Haley knelt beside him and touched his shoulder.

He glanced up, mouth open, gasping, pupils dilated, clenching his hands, unclenching his hands, clenching, unclenching.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

A three-inch piece of wood had lodged itself in the side of Chris’s gut—three inches Haley could see. Who knew how much of it cut through his insides?

“It looks bad, I know.” Chris wrapped his palm around the wood. “But it’s not that deep. I’m going to pull it out.”

Don’t shake. Don’t show fear
. Haley placed her hand over Chris’s. “Don’t. That could be a really bad decision, and one better left to a doctor.”

Sirens blared in the distance. Dogs barked. Car alarms beeped out horrendous noises. Sounds she couldn’t hear a moment ago, sounds that meant this was real, her house really blew up. Legs heavy, Haley couldn’t hold her weight anymore and slid beside Chris, tears trailing down her cheeks as every stupid possession, every horrible memory, every glorious picture, and Mom’s
clothes
turned to ash, melted, died.

“All the evidence… everything I promised Officer Lyttle I’d deliver to the police this morning. It’s all gone.”

Gone. Gone. Gone.

“Officer Lyttle?”

Neighbors ran into their yards and stared with mouths agape. Several people rushed toward them. They needed to move. Cops would come. They’d want Haley to speak with a caseworker and probably charge her for the explosion—assume the act was payback for what Dad did. They’d want to know about Joce and Niles and blame Haley for all the horrible incidents.

She had no evidence to prove her innocence.

“Yeah, he questioned me at the hospital before I escaped.”

Chris’s eyes widened, and he gasped again. Blood seeped down his shirt, a slow trickle—thank God. “Escaped?”

“Long story.”

“Well, you two sure know how to party.” Christine stepped around the car, a tight smile pulling at her lips, eyes redder than Haley had ever seen them, with a backpack stuffed and barely zipped closed slung over a shoulder.

“You’re okay.” Haley attempted to get up, falling back several times when she had to put weight on a leg.

“Better than you, it seems.” Christine took a seat on the grass, sitting cross-legged, not fazed by the bonfire formerly known as home raging behind her back. She was high. Very high, from the looks of it. “Your dad responsible for
all
of those?”

Sirens blared closer.
Couple more turns and they’d be here
.

Haley shrugged. “Who else?”

Chris gawked at Haley, then at Christine. “She knew?”

“You think Haley could keep something like that from me? And you look like shit, Chris.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, biting his lip.

“Why do
you
look like you’re about to run away?” Haley stopped trying to get up. Her body had taken too much abuse from Dad, and sleeping on the ground and the explosion knocking her silly didn’t help.

“I think I met your friend last night, late last night.” Christine closed her eyes and rubbed her palms together, shoulders tense. “Because, you know, I didn’t take off right after you left. I waited around and smoked a bit. Figured I needed something to take the edge off. You wouldn’t want me in there twitching, would you?”

“But you
did
go?”

“I did, two days later than you asked. Got a little distracted by your dad beating the shit out of you and getting stuff to the hospital”—She glanced at Haley’s feet—“Guess I forgot shoes, ‘cause no way would I have grabbed those.”

Focus, Christine. “What did they say?”

“Well, I blurted the whole freaking story to the first adult I saw outside the building, like an idiot, Haley. I was so fucking high that I never stopped to think how odd that was, not until I left—and he followed me home.” Christine opened her eyes, chin quivering. “He spread pictures out on my front porch, pictures of sweet, naïve Joce, of Niles, of your asshole dad, told me if I didn’t want you to end up like them, I needed to get out of town.”

Breathe in. Breathe out.

“Pictures of them… alive?”

Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Christine paled, suddenly interested in a rock by her feet. “Barely.”

Lights flashed, and people shouted and ran about. Firefighters stretched hoses, connected them to the hydrants and blasted water at the house.

“Go,” Chris whispered. “Go where you took us for the picnic. Wait for me.”

“I’m not leaving you.” Haley grabbed his hand to show she meant those words.

“No evidence to prove your innocence.” Inclining his head toward the house, Chris added, “It all just blew up, remember?”

“Never mind that”—Christine jumped to her feet and reached for Haley’s hand—“They found Niles’s car, Haley. And from what I saw on the news this morning, you’re going to need a lawyer.”

“Niles’s car? Why would his car mean I need a lawyer?” Haley held her breath and a scream as Christine pulled her up.

“Your friend told me he had Joce write a very nasty note, which is why I packed this bag. I figured as soon as I saw you come home, we’d take off together. That bastard can’t threaten you, and if you’re far away from all this, you certainly can’t get in trouble for it.”

A paramedic ran up to Haley, Chris and Christine, took one look at the wood lodged in Chris’s gut, then called for a stretcher. “You two girls okay?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Haley was far from okay. “How will we get there, Chris?”

Chris slipped his hand into his jeans pocket, then handed Haley the Porsche keys. “It’s clean. No bugs. Dad’s security removed them. Ditch your cell. Use Christine’s. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can. Don’t leave. Whatever you do, don’t leave until I get there.”