Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Zack, you’re crying now. It’s okay.”
He angrily rubs his cheek. “I’m not.”
“I’m going to help you, but first, you have to help me.”
He steps forward, raising the knife, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looks even younger than his age, which is saying a lot. He looks like a baby as his eyes shine red. When he raises the knife, I shake my head. “Zack—”
Then he slowly brings it down to my other hand, sawing at the rope.
“I don’t want to look,” he says. “Can you do your feet?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen dead bodies before,” he says, breaking my heart, “but I don’t want to look.”
“You don’t have to.”
After cutting my legs loose, I stand and almost fall, my center of balance completely off.
“Here.” Zack offers me his arm. “I can help.”
I can’t afford to be proud now, not with my body in so much agony.
Taking his arm, I say, “Thank you, Zack.”
“He shouldn’t have hit me, should he? That wasn’t normal for parents to do, right?”
“No,” I growl, thinking of my own father and Kylie. “It’s not, and it will never happen to you again. I promise. You’re family now, kid.”
He pauses, looking up. “I am?”
I lean down and gently brush a tear from his cheek. “I’m going to marry your sister. You’re going to be my brother-in-law. I’ll always protect you. Always.”
“You mean…” He narrows his eyes as if he can’t make this new idea fit into his head. “Nobody’s ever going to hit me again? Or make me lie to old ladies at gas stations for money? Or-or say mean things about me, my skateboarding, and everything else? And I get to go to school? No, wait, do I? That as well? Wait, Jamie, you’re crying now.”
I am. I can’t help it. “I swear, kid, you’ll get all that and more. It’ll be tough, but I’ll be there every step of the way.”
“We should get out of here, then.”
I grab his arm, and we keep walking.
“Jamie…”
“Yeah?”
Kids are amazing. I can’t wait to have some with Lucy. Looking down at him, I see the shadow of a smile on his face. Not a full smile, but it’s just a hint, a spark. I’m so relieved it wasn’t extinguished, just dampened.
“Can I get a new skateboard?”
I laugh so hard my body hurts, laugh so hard I fall against the wall. Then Zack’s laughing, too, and gripping his sides.
He rushes over to me and takes my hand. “Careful.”
“Thanks.”
“Hold my hand, and everything will be okay.”
“You’re a good kid.”
“Do you think so?”
“Definitely.”
He nods, ducks his head, and leads us through the dark to the light at the end of the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lucy
It’s been two days since we learned what happened. Dad drugged Jamie, then Jamie got free, tackled him, and killed him. He’s not the killer I thought he was, the brutal, sadistic murderer, but he is the man who killed my father.
Jamie had a bad reaction to the drugs when they finally got help. It was like he was somehow keeping himself together just long enough to escape, to defend Zack, and then his body shut down. He’s currently in and out of sleep as they drain his system. They’ve got him on an IV. The few times they let me in to see him, he was barely conscious, eyes falling closed before we could speak. At least his blood isn’t infected.
Now, they’re saying we should wait. Maybe they can see how devastating it is to us each time we walk in there and don’t see the usual Jamie with his classic smirk on his face.
Sabrina sits across from me, her hands in her lap, with Tommy pacing back and forth near her chair. His pacing was taking him farther until a nurse asked him to stop. He’s got his hands on his hips. Occasionally, he runs a hand over his bald head.
Kylie and Sebastian are in the corner. Sebastian is a tall, serious-looking man with dark brown hair. Kylie has a more hippy style, wearing a patterned purple dress and beads in her black hair. She’s got tears in her eyes, smiling shakily when she sees me looking. She’s trying to stay strong.
When the door opens, we all turn. My heart shudders when I see Zack. He’s been with child protective services, but now he’s here, his hair looking cleaner, in simple, clean clothes. He rushes into the room, suddenly stops, and looks around awkwardly. An older lady stands at his side, her gray ponytail tied up, wearing a sweater blouse and skirt combo.
“He wanted to wait for his big brother to get better,” the woman says. “Honestly, there’s no telling him no, and he wanted to meet you, Lucy. Sorry, where are my manners? I’m Juliet Simpson with Child…”
But I don’t hear the rest. I hear nothing except my heartbeat as Zack approaches. I look nervously up at him. I can see parts of Dad in him, parts of myself. His black eye has mostly faded, but it’s still there. Suddenly, there are tears in my eyes and tears in his eyes. We’re both sobbing as I fall to my knees, and he collapses into my arms.