Every Shattered Thing (Come Alive) (30 page)

“I-I-I have no idea. It’s Mrs. Peabody, Dad. She’s crazy.”

“Well, apparently.” He snorts and spits some chew dangerously close to my shoe. “I mean, she thought you’d be able to get into college. She gotta be crazy.”

I fight the resentment building, the loss of dreams and the beach scene falling away with the winter wind slapping my face. I shrug my shoulders and act nonchalant. “It’s whatever,” I say as I push around him and into the store, hoping he won’t immediately follow. Attached to my father isn’t my best idea of a day at the mall.

* * *

He catches up to me midway through Dillard’s and I throw him a withering glance when he

grunts approval at the assortment of negligées and lingerie hanging from racks. He stops at one and I feel a stone form in the pit of my stomach.

“Hey Steph come over here for a sec.”

I look around with horror to see if anyone noticed my dad beckoning me towards a red get-up complete with uncomfortable bows and ribbons.

No one. The busiest shopping day of the year and there’s no one around. Perfect.

He turns and threatens me with his eyes, and I move quickly to where he’s now shifting through the different sizes. Looking at me again, he pulls one off the rack.

“This seems to be your size, right?”

I stare at him disbelievingly before I hear a throat clear behind me.

“Can I help you two with something?”

I turn quickly, too quickly, because I recognize the voice. It’s her. The girl from outside the school. My face goes pale and I see the recognition flash quickly in her eyes before she plasters a smile on for my father. I can’t even remember how long it’s been since I’ve seen her, but...it’s her. I know it.

She’s...neat. Clean. Her hair is combed and her nails, once filled with dirt and cracking, are manicured. I catch myself staring and my dad elbows me in the ribs.

“Um...we were uh...just looking for my mom.”

I shift my gaze quickly to her and then just as fast move them to study my fingernails.

She scratches above her ear and the space in between her eyebrows crease for a split second before she pushes past me and focuses on my father, but not before surreptitiously tweaking me on the arm with her fingers. I catch her gaze and she moves her lips while my dad’s staring at some teen girls in a nearby section.

Dressing room.

He turns right as her message reaches me and I bite my lip to keep from showing anything on my face. She starts laying on the saleswoman pitch pretty thick for my father, and points him to some pretty expensive floor length silk sleepers. He’s not buying it, though. His gaze keeps going back to the more revealing teddies lining the wall. Not caring how weird it sounds or awkward it seems to other people passing by, I walk over to a bright blue number and find my size.

“This’ll work—but let me try it on just to make sure.”

Something shifts in his eyes and I turn to find a mom with her daughter, looking aghast at my comment. I smile and shrug. “We’re the same size. Makes it easy.”

The mom nods but her uneasiness is unchanged. Good. Maybe she’ll be so unsettled she’ll do something. Raising an eyebrow I scan the store to see where the dressing rooms are before motioning to my dad where I’m headed. He slips me a camera and I know his intent. My stomach churns and my shoulders automatically go tense when I walk past him and feel a pat on my rear end. I know without even turning around the look on my dad’s face. I hide a smile knowing I have my own little secret in the works.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I have more than one thing going for me: since it’s a women’s dressing room, men stay outside.

This gives me ample time to breathe as well as a safe space to meet with the girl who disappeared so long ago. I close my eyes and focus, not believing my luck.

She comes almost immediately.

“Are you in here?” I hear her whisper and I motion which stall by sticking my hand above the door. I open it a crack before she walks in and sits down on the chair. She studies my face.

“How long has this been going on?” Her question is pointed, her eyebrows raised and her hands moved from her hair and tapping an unsteady rhythm on the arms crossed over her chest.

I pause, taken aback by the suddenness of her question.

“What? I don’t even...what’s your name?”

I feel indignant. Outside of Emma, Jude and Kevin, no one ever pays such close attention to me.

No one ever spots the warning signs. Or, if they do, they take the route of my pre-cal teacher and the lady out shopping with her daughter: denial.

“It’s Kristi. Now what the hell is going on with that guy out there? Is he really your dad? And how long have you been held captive?”

Her last question is a statement and forces me to choke on my words. I sit there staring at her for a few minutes and she waits, a small smile playing on her lips. It’s obvious I’m not going anywhere without coming up with some kind of answer.

“He’s really my dad.” I whisper.

Her head pops back in encouragement.

I glance at the door, wishing for escape and feeling incredibly awkward. Staring at the latch I suddenly remember the last time I was in a dressing room, laughing with Emma about Kevin and feeling carefree and beautiful. A tear falls unwillingly down my cheek and I swat at it, poking my eye in the process.

“I’m not a captive.”

I say under my breath.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Bullshit.”

I take a quick breath at the smile playing on her lips. Something inside me recognizes the quiet chaos in her words. I feel a warning start to go off in the back of my mind but I ignore it—ignore the timing of just
happening
to see her, the change in her mood—everything about seeing her. I feel the anger grow again and my finger finds refuge in pointing dangerously close to her face.

“You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Oh yeah? What’s on the camera?” Her head moves toward the camera dangling from my arm.

I’d completely forgotten I strapped it there to keep it from falling.

“Nothing.”

“Again. Bullshit. Come on, let me see. I may be able to help you.” Her voice turns toward the end, and I’m desperate.

I sink to the ground and pass the camera to Kristi. She turns it on and doesn’t last very long before her breath grows ragged. I lift my head to try and see her reaction. A sick smile is playing on her lips and I feel my stomach start to turn. Something’s wrong. I gather my strength and use the wall behind me to stand upright, reaching for the latch on the door as secretly as possible. A cough in a nearby stall captures Kristi’s attention and her head jerks up just in time to see me fumbling with the door. She slams into me and pins me against the mirror.

“You aren’t going anywhere.” Her voice is sing-songy and her eyes seem distant. She leans in and whispers in my ear.

“Your dad told me you’d try to fight.”

She starts to giggle while reaching for buttons on my shirt. I rear back and slap her as hard as I can on the face, leaving her cheek red and swollen. She steps back in shock and I burst from the door, mad with confusion and rage.

I thought I could trust her. I thought she was clean because she escaped. I thought she was like
me.

I don’t even see my dad blocking the entrance to the dressing room and I run straight into him.

Staggering back and losing my balance, I fall to the floor. He turns and catches my gaze and smiles.

“So it went well with Kristi?”

My face darkens and I trip over my limbs to stand up again. “You. Are. Evil.
Evil.
What kind of father does this to his daughter?” I wave my arms around, motioning to my body. “What kind of father gets her involved in getting other girls? A fucking
monster
.” I wipe my nose on the back of my hand and run toward him, beating his chest with my hands. “You’re sick.
Sick.
I fucking hate you.
Hate you
!”

My throat hurts from screaming and my head still pounds from the pressure. It’s not until security pulls me away from my dad that I realize how loud I was yelling. There’s a group of people gathering. My face is red, and I breathe deep to shallow my breathing. Kristi steps around me, holding her cheek.

“Gentlemen, this is my sister. She’s...not feeling well. Thank you for coming but we can take it from here.”

One of the officers looks at me and my welling eyes, still trying to catch my breath, and turns to Kristi reluctantly. “Are you sure, miss? Did she hit you?”

Her head dips with false gentleness and she hides a smile.

“Yes...but like I said—she’s not well. I was helping her try on some clothes and she got angry with an outfit I chose for her and started to hit me.” Shrugging her shoulders she looks around at the audience forming. “It’s all really quite embarrassing. My father and I will take it from here, though. It’s best.”

The officer loosens his hold and hands me back over to my abusers.

I watch their retreating figures and rub the raw spot on my arm where Kristi’s nails dug in to my skin. Breathing deep through my nose, I close my eyes and hope to open them with no one staring—my dad and Kristi not standing next to each other gloating. I catch Kristi eyeing a teenage girl looking through a rack of clothing and reality hits deep. She’s a pimp now. She’s clean now not because she escaped but because she started doing to others what was done to her for so long.

I think I might throw up.

I don’t have time to think through my emotions, though, because both my dad and Kristi are each taking one of my arms and leading me out the door into the food court, away from the whispering crowd.

“She must be crazy” and “poor girl” and “did you see she hit her sister?” trailing after me like word-ghosts. I hang my head, tripping over my own two feet. Let the crowd think I’m crazy. It’s better than them knowing the truth.

Chapter Thirty

We stop at a table in front of a hamburger shop and my dad pushes me into one of the chairs.

“Don’t try and escape. There’s about ten men gathered around here watching just in case you get any wise ideas.”

I sink into the chair. I notice the men sitting in particular spots around the food court watching us.

I’m still reeling from Kristi’s betrayal. Even though I don’t know her, even though we’ve only had one conversation that was highly one-sided, it stings to find an assumption you had of someone fall to pieces in front of you. She catches me watching her and raises an eyebrow. I want to punch her. I sit on my hands to avoid jumping across the table.

“What happened to you?”

She blinks. “What do you mean...what happened to me?”

“I mean...since that morning you told me about...you know....”

She smiles and maneuvers to where she’s leaning forward across the table. “When I told you about my own father? Is that it?” Her eyes sparkle as she leans back and crosses her arms. Her smile grows bigger—triumphant even. “Have you ever thought about where you hide that Moleskine of yours?”

My hands feel numb.

“What?” I chance a look at my dad and he’s rocking on his feet—chuckling under his breath and shaking his head.

“Kristi’s been working in the school for a while. How do you think we got Marisol to convince the cheerleaders to join her?”

My eyes cloud over and my breath grows shallow. What is he saying? Is he saying...

“Did you steal my diary?!” I push the table. “Were you...were you saying stuff you read out of my diary?! To gain my confidence? To make me believe you? What the
fuck.
This is crazy.” I can feel my voice starting to shake and I stop talking, digging my nails into my hands. Nothing is sacred. Nothing. I have owned absolutely nothing that was solely mine.

I’m hyperventilating.

My life—my words—my thoughts—everything has belonged to him.

Kristi laughs and shrugs her shoulders. "You'd be amazed at how useful your diary came to be for us. You see, I work for your father. I know how to befriend girls, get them to trust me.”

My eyes widen and she shakes her head. “I mean
really
Stephanie. It’s because of your need to pour out your feelings on a sheet of paper we knew you were headed to Kevin’s for Thanksgiving. It’s why your dad didn’t wake you up that morning. He was too busy beating you over to the Matouse’s to have a little chat with Kevin’s mom. Did you ever wonder who told her about your past? About how you...make money? Who would want their son to date a prostitute?”

I’m dizzy. The world is spinning. I close my eyes and try to breathe.

“Oh and another thing. Your friends. You know we realize they’re onto us, right? This
Chad
person Jude sent your way? We took care of him. He won’t be getting involved any time soon.” Kristi starts giggling and I stare at her.

“What do you mean,
you took care of him?”

My dad starts chuckling and drops his head as if I just asked the stupidest question. “We have our ways.” He smiles big at my widening eyes and maneuvers himself to where he’s close enough to whisper.

“Don't worry. We didn’t do anything
too bad.
Just scared him a little. Let him know what happens to people who don’t mind their own business.” He pulls his wallet out of his jeans and rummages through the plastic picture covers before pulling one out. Throwing it on the table between us, he places his hands behind his head and grunts with approval. “I gotta say. My guys are getting purty good at scaring the hell outta people.”

The picture will haunt me for a while. I see Chad, but it’s not really him. Both of his eyes are bloodied and swollen and his front teeth are missing. His shirt is stripped off and there are bruises along his rib cage. His legs twist in unnatural ways and his two pinky fingers are tilting the wrong way. I bite my lip against the hatred burning in my chest.

My dad is a monster.

Everything is a lie. Everything I’ve built my life on—this need for hope—
I really was alone this
whole time
. And then, as if a force outside myself is pulling my head up to look at my surroundings, I feel someone watching me. I casually shift my attention around the food court as if I’m people watching. I almost miss him. Hidden behind a tree, sitting on a bench, is Kevin. I have to drop my head before my father or Kristi sees me. And then something else catches my eye. A woman is walking up to his bench.