back home.”

“You can’t,” she replies curtly. “It’s Christmas break.”

“Okay, then maybe I want to stay here.” I back up to the chair

and sit down. I tip my head forward and rub the sides of my

temples with my fingers. “Fuck.” I have no idea what to do. I don’t

want to be in this God damn room anymore, but leaving means

facing the world, myself, my father, Callie.

“If Kayden wants to stay here,” Doug interrupts. “Then he

can.”

“I’m sure as hell not paying for it,” my mother snaps

venomously. She reaches into her purse and takes out the car keys.

“I’m signing you out first thing tomorrow morning and then you’re

coming home—that is, unless you want to fork out your own

money.”

She clutches the keys in her hands and storms out the door,

taking my hope with her. I wonder why she’s doing it. Why she’d

put me in here for barely over a week and then suddenly want me

out. There’s got to be something going on.

Whatever it is, I don’t want to go home. If I do, there’s a

good chance my father’s going to finish what he started.

Doug sighs as he returns his pen to his pocket, and then he

turns to me. “Well, that didn’t go so well.”

“It never does with her.” I shove the sleeves of my

long-sleeved shirt up and rest my arms on my knees. “There’s no

use trying to fight her on anything. She always wins.”

He grabs a chair from the corner and positions it in front of

my chair. He doesn’t bother taking his jacket off, which means he’s

probably not staying long. “Does she win fights with your father?”

he asks as he lowers himself into the chair.

Warning flags pop up all over in my head. I know the drill.

Lie. Lie. Lie. “What do you mean? What fights?”

He crosses his leg over his knee and the bottom of his pants

ride up. He’s wearing these socks with smiley faces on them. “Your

mother and father never fight?”

I shake my head because it’s the truth. They really don’t

because my mother is a yes-dear kind of person. “No, not really.”

His brows pucker and I get the feeling I might have said

something wrong. “Kayden, what’s your dad like?”

My fingertips automatically jerk inward and my nails slice at

my skin. “He’s… he’s a dad. A normal dad.”

“Do you have a good relationship with him?” he questions.

“Because I find it kind of strange that he hasn’t visited you once.”

“Our relationship’s fine.” My throat feels thick with tar. “He

just works a lot of hours.”

His hand whisks across the paper as he writes something in

his notebook and then proceeds into the conversation with

caution. “Has he ever hit anyone in your family?”

It is the perfect opportunity to tell him everything: about my

life, about the pain, about the unworthiness. But it feels like

betrayal and I realize that I’m basically my father’s puppet. It’s a

terrifying and confusing conclusion, like the strings that attach me

to him have wound into knots. “I-I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He’s skeptical. “Are you sure?”

I nod my head as I stare at the floor in front of me. There’s a

pink stain on it and a lot of the linoleum is cracked and chipped. “I really don’t know.”

He evaluates me, then takes a card out of his front pocket

and extends his hand toward me with it between his fingers. “I

want to see you first thing Monday. My office address is on the

back.” He flips over the card and shows me where the address is

written in his handwriting. “My number’s also on the front. If you

ever need to talk about anything, you can call me anytime.”

I take the card, realizing that committing to his request

means committing to more than just a visit. It means opening up

doors I nailed shut a long time ago and facing all the demons I

locked inside. It means telling him everything, even about my dad.

And then what? What if I actually do? Then what happens to my

family? My mother? My father? Do I care? I don’t know. I don’t

know anything. I think I’m the most fucked-up, confused person

who’s ever lived.

Doug drags the chair back to the corner and then tucks his

notebook underneath his arm as he heads for the door. “I want

you to see you a few times over Christmas break, and then we’ll

find you a therapist to talk to in Laramie when you go back to

college.”

A measured breath eases from my lips as I clench my hand

around his card and bend it in half. I get a paper cut and it

momentarily stills the stirring inside me. “What if I don’t want to?”

He offers me a positive smile. “You do, otherwise you would

have just said no.”

I don’t say anything and it’s a silent agreement. I’ll see a

shrink in Laramie. That is if I make it back to school.

Shit. I’m suddenly reminded of the bigger picture. I have

more problems than just dealing with my father. How the hell am I

going to get out of that mess? Let my father buy Caleb off? Then

what? I owe my father for life? And carry his secrets—our family’s

secrets forever.

Doug exits the room and I let my head fall into my hands. I

drag my fingers through my hair roughly and pull hard on the

roots. For once, I wish that things were easy. That I could relax.

Breathe.

Really, what I wish for is Callie.

Callie

I wake up early the next morning, before the sun has

completely risen over the curves of the mountains. I slept terribly

last night, tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable. I kept

having this dream where I’d run into Kayden’s house and find

blood on the floor and knives, but he wasn’t there. I searched the

whole house but all I kept finding were piles and piles of leaves. I

woke up dripping in sweat and ended up throwing up in the

bathroom.

I lie awake in bed, and Seth is snoring next to me, content in

his sleep. I listen to him breathe until I can’t sit still any longer and then get up and grab my notebook from my bag. I take a seat in

the makeshift windowsill that looks out at the snowy driveway. My

mom’s car is buried in a foot of snow and my dad’s truck has

chains on the tires.

I pull my knees up and station the notebook on them before

pressing the tip of the pen to the paper.

I dream that I get to have cake before Caleb takes me into

my room. When I blow out the candles and make a wish, I wish to

have the happiest and best birthday in the world and the wish

comes true. Caleb never shows up that day to hang out with my


Перейти на страницу:
Изменить размер шрифта: