Dylan (9 page)

At the same time, the fact that my mother is
dead is trying to drill itself deep into my chest. I’ll never get
closure, I’ll never know why she let me suffer, and I’ll never even
know if she really loved me. My eyes are brimming with tears, and
the ache in my chest is intensifying the harder my brain tries to
process this new reality. My mother is dead.

I’m snapped back to reality as a car door
slams just as we’ve finished loading the last of our things into
Uncle Jim’s car. As soon as I look up, I’m ensnared in Steven’s
dark gaze. He looks from me to Uncle Jim repeatedly. His face
morphs into anger as his eyes settle on our belongings in Uncle
Jim’s car. He isn’t going to let us go without a fight. Steven has
twistedly made himself believe we belong to him.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
He grabs my upper arm, which causes my body to flinch as my face
winces in agony. “You’re not eighteen yet.”

“You better get your fucking hands off of my
niece.” Uncle Jim’s words are vibrating the air around us with
hatred and anger.

Steven looks at him, unconcerned about the
words Uncle Jim just said and squeezes my arm tighter. “Stay out of
this. You aren’t her parent, she’s not eighteen, and you need a
lawyer if you want to take them away from me.”

Uncle Jim steps forward placing himself
directly between us. It pushes Steven back a step and forces
him to release me. I hiss quietly as the
rush of blood through my arm causes it to tingle “They are coming
with me. As of now, I am their parent, and if you would like to
protest that then
you
need to get a lawyer.” Uncle Jim says
matter-of-factly. “Lisa overdosed tonight. Do you know where she
got those drugs, Steven?”

Steven’s eyes widen marginally before they
narrow at Uncle Jim. I can’t imagine how hard this is for Uncle
Jim—all of this time he has thought she was better, he thought she
was coping, but now she’s dead.

“I’ve helped raise them girls. I’ll keep
them.” Steven shifts his evil glare to me, daring me to object to
the idea.

“The hell you will. Get back in your car,
and get the hell away from here.” Uncle Jim points to Steven’s beat
up Pontiac his voice rising with every word.

I walk slowly out from behind Uncle Jim,
circle the car, and climb inside. I know what will happen next. I
know exactly what venom Steven will spew to keep me—to keep us.
It’s the only thing he has left to use. I know he’s desperate. The
acid inside my stomach starts eating up my throat as the words pour
through Uncle Jim’s still open window and reach me with a sickening
thud to my gut.

“Fine. Take Raven, but Harper is mine. You
can’t take my daughter, and I know you don’t really want to take
her mother away either.”

My whole world stops. I can hear my
heartbeat through my ears as my blood rushes through my veins—I can
hear it all. Every breath, every hammer against my chest, and every
bone breaking as Uncle Jim beats the shit out of Steven.

I glance out the window just in time to see
Uncle Jim grip the collar of Steven’s overly distressed t-shirt and
slam a fist painfully into Steven’s face. Blood spurts, and
Steven’s face contorts in what I think might be pain. I’ve never
seen Steven in pain. I’ve only ever seen him inflicting it.

The officers still at the scene have ignored
the altercation to this point, but when fists start flying, they
converge on the men. It all happens so fast, and before my brain
has time to process what’s happening, it’s over and nothing but
silence is left in its wake.

***

I can hear the distant sound of sirens once
again as more cops arrive on the scene. I manage to pull my gaze
back toward Uncle Jim’s open car window. I know I should stop him,
but I’m afraid.
What will he say to me?
What if he has
nothing to say to me? What if he doesn’t want me to stay with him
anymore? What if I’m too damaged?

The officers have finally managed to pull
them apart. Both of them are sitting along the curb in handcuffs as
Uncle Jim tries to explain his side of what happened. If Uncle Jim
goes to jail, I’ll never forgive myself. I doubt he will ever
forgive me either.

My chest is tight and vomit is clogging my
throat as I mentally replay Steven telling him about us having sex.
Even though it was never consensual, the outcome is still the same.
The consequences don’t change. Harper is still here, and I am still
her mother.

Something deep inside tells me that I had
thought Uncle Jim would react like my mother had. I thought he
would say it was my fault. That I wanted it, begged for it even.
Instead, he defended me, and that adds a new layer of guilt to my
subconscious for not believing in the one person who, in the end,
defend me.

I never in a million years thought Steven
would tell my Uncle Jim that Harper wasn’t my sister, but my
daughter—our daughter. I guess I always believed Steven would hold
that secret against me so I could be controlled.

I look up into the review mirror, and see
Harper’s sleeping face angled toward me. I hadn’t wanted her. I had
begged my mother to take care of me. I pleaded with her to let me
get an abortion. I didn’t want Steven, and I most definitely didn’t
want his baby, but she made me go through with the pregnancy. She
told me I brought it on myself. That I deserved whatever fate gave
me. She told me it would be cruel to make Steven suffer the loss of
his child because of my selfishness.

I blamed her more in those moments than I
ever had before. Yet, I still can’t say that I hate her. She was my
mother, and even though I will never understand her, I can’t bring
myself to despise her either.

Being pregnant hadn’t stopped Steven’s
abuse. It had made it so much worse. He got off on it. I know every
time he was inside of me after Harper was born, he was hoping it
would happen again. After Harper was born, I asked the doctor to
prescribe me birth control. I filled it religiously every month
without their knowledge. I love Harper now, but I hated her then.
She was his trophy.

I glance back out the window just in time to
see Steven being hauled up from the ground by the handcuffs that
are snapped around his wrists. He looks up, locks his brown eyes to
mine, a wicked grin forming on his lips. He doesn’t look away until
the police shove him into the back of the squad car and close the
door behind him.

I watch as one of the other officer’s
approach my window. I roll it down, and raise a finger to my lips
as I indicate Harper in the back. The officer, a young woman with
light eyes and dark hair, nods at me with sad eyes before she
quietly speaks.

“It’s my understanding that what has taken
place here tonight is centered on you, and although it may be
difficult, I’m going to need you to explain what happened in your
own words.” Her voice is quiet, but the sadness in her eyes is
something I don’t deserve.

“Steven was my mother’s husband. He raped
me.” I speak softly, but the power I feel saying those words aloud
isn’t something that can be described. With the strange power comes
an unbearable sense of shame.

I grip the edges of my seat tightly as I
look away from the window. I don’t want to look this woman in the
eyes. She doesn’t look like the kind of woman who would let someone
force her to do anything. What must she think of me?

“Steven was married to Lisa Vandell, but I
understand Steven’s last name is Knox?”

I just nod as she jots something down in her
notebook. “Mom didn’t want to change her last name. She didn’t take
my father’s last name after they were married either.”

I can see her nod out of the corner of my
eye, but I still can’t bring myself to look at her. “When did the
abuse start?”

I swallow so hard that my throat hurts with
the effort as the memories of the first time work their way into my
brain. “I was fourteen.”

Her pen hovers for a minute in my
peripherals. I can sense her discomfort in her slow exhale before
she writes something else down. She leans in to rest her arms on
the window, which naturally has my gaze swinging back to her.

“Is Harper Vandell your daughter?” I can see
the pity in her eyes, and I hate it.

I don’t deserve anyone’s pity. How could any
of them have helped me if I never told them? I brought this on
myself. I nod, but I know I don’t need to say anything more.

The officer sighs as she pushes up to return
to her standing position. “We are arresting Steven Knox, and
releasing you into the custody of your uncle. If Mr. Knox
cooperates, the likely hood of needing you to testify decreases,
but I have a feeling that won’t happen. We will also need you and
your uncle to come into the station and write statements, but that
can wait till morning.” She slips her notebook into a side pocket
of her uniform. “I suggest you prepare yourself mentally to
testify. For now, just take care of yourself.”

I nod, but she has already turned to walk
away from me. I watch as she moves to the officers still standing
around talking to my uncle. They huddle up briefly as she fills
them in, and then release Uncle Jim from the cuffs around his
wrist. They are still talking to him, but I can’t hear what’s being
said. I turn my gaze to look down at me feet. The shame over what
had been happening completely consumes me now that I know I have to
face him.

The driver side door opens as Uncle Jim
climbs inside. I chance a glance over at him when the door closes
and the interior light shuts off. The street lights outside
illuminate his profile, but he isn’t looking at me. His hands are
wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, his head is bowed, and
he has a tortured look on his face.

I don’t know what to say to him, so I don’t
say anything. I just watch him silently until he finally glances
over at me with his blue eyes filled with tears and his lower lip
trembling.

“Why would you not tell me?” His voice,
which is usually so flawlessly smooth and controlled, sounds just
as fractured as my heart.

An unexpected sob tears from somewhere deep
inside of me, and Uncle Jim quickly pulls me into his arms. I bury
my face in his neck and inhale the comforting scent of worn leather
and expensive cologne as my arms wrap securely around his waist. I
don’t even try to stop the violent shudders that are wracking my
body.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I got you. I will
never let anyone hurt you again. Do you understand me, Raven? Never
again.”

I pull back nodding my head as I wipe
angrily at the tears streaming down my face. Once I’ve regained
control, he asks me again.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have made
it better. I would have stopped him.”

Now I know he would have, just like I had
dreamed about so many times, but I also know he would have blamed
himself. After Mom went to rehab the last time, Uncle Jim had an
opportunity to get custody of me. The courts told him Mom was
unfit, that she couldn’t look past her addiction enough to take
care of me, but Mom had begged Uncle Jim not to take me away from
her. She had been clean then. She had loved me then.

Uncle Jim had relented on the condition that
she stays clean. She had agreed, and the rest is history. I knew
that if he found out he would have taken me away from it all, but
part of me also knew that he would never forgive himself for not
taking me away when he had the chance.

“I couldn’t.” I admit. “You would have
blamed yourself, and I don’t blame you!” My voice rises with every
word I say. I want him to hear the honesty in my words, because I
don’t want him living the rest of his life with this guilt.

He flinches back slightly at my words. I
know he is not willing to accept them. He’s silent for so long, I’m
almost afraid of what he’ll say when he does speak again.

“I’m giving you two options.” My heartbeat
is unsteady, my whole body is tightened to the point of being
painful as I wait for him to finish. “I can adopt Harper. I can be
her father, and you will never have to tell her any differently. I
know Trisha will be on board. It can be the best kept secret in the
fucking world.”

He rubs a rough hand over his jaw before he
swallows so hard I can see his neck move with the effort. “Or, you
can claim Harper the way you should have been able to from the very
beginning, and I will stand beside your decision. I will protect
you both, at any cost, for the rest of my damn life.”

When he’s done speaking, he looks over at me
with something that closely resembles pride in his eyes, but that
can’t be right.
What in the world would he be proud of?
The
fact his niece allowed a man to sexually assault her on practically
a daily basis for years, which resulted in a child? That is nothing
to be proud of. I am a coward.

“I’ll let you think about it until we get
home, but you won’t have any more time after that. I will have to
tell Trisha something.” I nod numbly as he starts the car.

He reaches for the gearshift, but stops
before moving it into reverse. I can hardly make out his features
through the tears in my eyes. “I know I probably won’t like this
answer.” He flicks sad eyes back to me. “Did your mother know what
he was doing to you?”

A hard sob forces its way through my body,
and Uncle Jim mutters a curse under his breath. “She did, didn’t
she?”

I nod numbly again.

“Son of a bitch!” He slams his fists against
the steering wheel. I quickly move my eyes to Harper who does
nothing more than flinch slightly. She’s still sound asleep.

“Tell me why, Raven. Why after Harper was
born didn’t you come clean? Do you realize that he could have done
the same thing to her?” Anger is fighting its way into his voice
now, and I know I have to answer him honestly.

“He told me—” I clear my throat before
sucking in a breath of courage to get through this. “He told me he
would hurt her.” I lock my eyes to his as pain once again
transforms his features. “If I told anyone, or if I ran. It was
part of his agreement.” A bitter laugh leaves me. “As if it were a
consensual decision on my part!” I shout angrily.