“How many times have I told you . . . I don’t want anyone to touch you except me.” His hand tightens around my neck. It will leave a mark, and all I can think about is wearing a turtleneck, so I won’t get questioned.
He throws me across the kitchen table, and I fall hard on the floor. Pieces of glass from the whiskey bottle cut me, and I hear a snap in my elbow as a scream escapes my lungs and endless tears fall down my face.
My voice quivers as I yelp in pain, holding my arm. I think it’s broken.
“Todd. No. Please. I beg you.”
He unbuckles his belt and shoves his jeans down, then he’s on top of me, pulling my skirt up. His lips are on mine, pressing so hard I can’t breathe.
“Love hurts, baby. You. Are. Mine. Do you understand?” he hisses. “Mine.”
I wake with a jolt, my throat is dry, and my mind scrambles to rouse from the nightmare. Only it wasn’t just a nightmare. It really happened.
My trembling hand wipes the sweat from my forehead. My eyes squint from the light peeking through the blinds and Serena is licking my cheek.
I’m home. In California. And Todd is in jail.
I steady my breathing, shut my eyes, and count to ten. It’s something I learned at the weekly meetings I attend with other women like me—survivors. It’s a place of support and a place where I can break down without judgement.
I pick up my cell phone, needing to hear the voice that brings solace to my mind, body, and soul. The other end rings a few times, then I hear him. “Hello? Marshall residence.” The innocence of Daxton’s voice greets me. “How may I help you?”
“Dax . . . it’s me.” God, I miss my baby brother. We are only four years apart but with Down syndrome, he sounds and acts much younger.
“Lulu!” he screeches the name from my childhood. “I miss you. When are you coming home?”
“Oh, Dax. Not for a while. I live in California now, remember? But soon, I promise I will come visit,” I sigh. “So, tell me what’s been going on at home?”
I place Daxton on speaker as his giggle electrifies the line and warms my heart. He continues to tell me all the things that have been going on at the ranch as I brush my teeth and wash my face. And how he, Susie, Catrina, and Mama already made a batch of cookies today.
I make my way into the kitchen and place a mug on the Keurig machine, insert a pod, and press the button. I open the blinds and am grateful the weatherman was right for once. The storm is finally gone, the skies are clear, and the sun is bright.
“. . . and Papa has done all the crosswords. I help him. I’m smart. Papa wants more, Lulu,” Daxton finishes his rant. A shuffle of the phone and another giggle from Daxton, I hear Mama in the background. “Mama wants to talk to you.”
“Okay, Dax. I love you.”
“Love you more, Lulu.” I hear the sound of a kiss through the line and my heart swells.
“Lu?” One word and Mama’s voice sends a tear down my cheek. I can picture her wiping her hands on her apron after putting a batch of homemade cookies in the oven.
“Hi, Mama.”
“Oh, baby girl! I’m so happy to hear your voice.” I hear a clatter of pans in the background. “Oh, dear!”
“Mama, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. These kids are cleaning up the mess we made. Hold on, honey . . . Dax, Cat, Susie-Q, can you go outside for a while and give me some privacy? I need to talk to Lu in some peace and quiet.”
I hear hoorays as their feet stomp on the wooden floor. The floorboards I grew up on and that I miss. And remember all too well which one squeaked when I tried to sneak in after curfew.
“Mama, what are Catrina and Susie doing there? It’s Saturday.” Susie is Jacob’s daughter. Although Jacob is my cousin, I consider her my niece, my quite feisty niece.
“Cat came over to play with Susie. And I told Franny to take advantage of her alone time and schedule a spa day. Jacob is at the horse auction today. Normally he would take Susie, but she’s at that wandering off and being independent age. You were like that too when you were five. Anyway, he thought it would be better for her to stay here for the weekend.” I hear the faucet and I know she’s washing dishes.
“Remember what happened at the Harvest Festival . . . my god, Lu.” She lets out a breath. “When that piglet wandered. Jacob was a mess, only to find her inside the maze an hour later. And thank goodness they went home right before the shooting . . .” Her voice falters, then she clears her throat. “Anyway, did I mention Drake is being awarded for his bravery and the way he handled the shooting?”
The Harvest Festival shooting put Dylan in a coma. A time when our lives came to a standstill. Remembering how Dylan laid on the bed with tubes and cables all over him and the sound of the heart monitor being the only thing that gave us hope.
“Mama, Dylan’s okay now. And he’s got Phoebe and they’re about to give you another grandchild, might I add,” I say to lighten up the conversation.
“Dylan got a job with the Letelles as their personal bodyguard,” Mama says proudly. “He gave Leta and Chelle the rights to record that song he sang at the festival. They’re paying him royalties. ‘Knots’ is their number one hit. Imagine that.”
I giggle. “Yes, I hear it on the radio all the time.” A pleased grin lights my face knowing how proud she is of my two brothers.
“I can’t believe he made up that song on the fly. Thankfully, Leta recorded him live.”
“Imagine that,” I repeat her words as I take the creamer out of the fridge.
“I wonder if that’ll be their wedding song?” Mama inquires and I can hear her thoughts stirring in that brain of hers.
“Mama, Dylan hasn’t asked Phoebe to marry him.”
“Lu, it’s inevitable. Your brother adores Phoebe. He’ll ask her, you wait and see.”
“And how’s Daddy?” I stir the sweet creamer in my coffee. “Dax tells me he’s done with the batch of crossword puzzles I mailed a couple of weeks ago.”
“Your daddy is tickled pink and looking forward to the next ones.” Her voice is like a warm blanket. “I swear he thinks he’s smarter than an elephant.”
“Maybe I should send him the next level up. Test and tease that brain of his.” I laugh as the hot coffee touches my mouth.
“Yes, please do. Anyway, tell me about your new job.”
Guilt stirs in my chest, and my heart sinks from her probing. “Mama, I have a confession to make.”
“A confession?” Silence fills the line for a beat. “Go on. You have my undivided attention.”
“I lied to you. I did get the job, but not at the time when you asked me.”
“Delilah Noreen Marshall.” Her voice is stern. “Baby girl, what’s going on?”
“I wanted you to be proud of me, like you are of Dylan and Drake.”
“Delilah, I am proud of you. What makes you think I wouldn’t be?”
I think of Todd and the threats he made, and the secrets hidden behind closed doors. “When I started dating Todd, I know I disappointed you. Daddy and Drake told me to stay away from him. I saw the looks you all gave me and heard the whispers behind my back. But I stayed with him anyway.”