“Where’s he going to go? And who’s going to report me? His bitch mom who had her boyfriend beat the shit out of him? Like CPS is going to be on her side,” Dad mutters. I hear the creak of the back door opening. “He’s sitting by the pool. Come on.”
The door shuts, and then there’s no more talking.
“We should go find Jake. He’ll know what happened.” Ava rises to her feet and runs down the hall, knocking on our brother’s door. She tries the handle, but it’s locked. “Jake! Let me in.”
“Go away!” Jake yells in response.
Ava sends me a look, and now I’m the one shrugging. “If the door’s locked, you don’t want to go in there. If you get what I mean.”
Ava makes a face, then knocks on Jake’s door again. “Come on! Autumn and I have questions!”
“Ava, quit screaming. You’ll wake up Beck.” Though that kid sleeps like the dead.
We hear stomping, the door unlocks and then Jake’s standing there, his tall, lanky body filling the space. “What the hell do you want?” he growls, glaring at Ava.
“Hey, leave her alone.” I jump to my feet and go over to where Ava’s standing. I’m very rarely on her side. Ava is annoying as crap. But we need information, and Jake’s probably the only one who’s got it.
Jake clamps his lips shut, frustration pouring off him. He reminds me so much of Dad. The dark hair, the piercing blue eyes, the same body shape. They walk the same, they talk the same, and girls at school trip over themselves to gain his attention. “What do you two want?”
“What happened at practice today?” Ava asks.
He glances over at Ava, then me. “She shouldn’t hear it.”
“Too late. We were both spying on Mom and Dad just now. She’s heard plenty,” I tell him.
With a sigh, Jake runs a hand through his hair. “Where are they?”
“Outside.”
“With Ash?”
“I’m assuming so,” I say as Ava nods.
“He didn’t show up for practice, and all the coaches were mad. Dad looked ready to rip someone’s face off, he was so angry. People kept calling and texting Ash, but he wouldn’t answer. After a while, Dad wasn’t so much pissed as concerned. Ash never, ever misses practice. He may be an arrogant motherfucker, but he always shows up for the team,” Jake explains.
“Jacob,” I hiss, flicking my head in Ava’s direction. “Don’t cuss in front of her.”
“I hear worse at school,” Ava says matter-of-factly, making me roll my eyes. I mean, she is a freshman in high school, so I know what she’s saying is true.
“Continue,” I tell Jake.
“So with about an hour left in practice, Dad leaves. He goes to Ash’s house, and he lives in this shitty place on the other side of town, near the elementary school. You know those old apartments behind the school?” When we nod, he does too. “Yeah, he lives there. Dad rolls up, just as Ash is practically thrown out the door of his apartment, and he’s just beat the hell up. Bruises and cuts on his face, a black eye. The works. Guess his stepdad or his mom’s boyfriend, whatever the hell you call him, kicked his ass because he stole a pack of smokes from him.”
My heart clenches at hearing Jake’s story. “Did you see him?”
“Dad came back to pick me up after practice with Ash in the backseat, so yeah. Swore me to secrecy on the drive home. Well, Ash did. He doesn’t want anyone knowing what happened,” Jake says.
“So Ash actually came home with you?”
“Like I said, he was sitting in the back of the car holding an ice pack to his eye when Dad came to pick me up. It was hard to look at Ash. His mouth was all swollen. He looked like hell.” Jake shakes his head. “Dad dropped me off here first, then they took off. I think he was trying to take Ash to a doctor? But he was already telling Dad there was no way he could go to emergency or whatever. He was afraid he’d get picked up. Like from the cops? I don’t know. I guess he threw punches too. Sounds like a freaking nightmare if you ask me…”
My brother keeps talking, but I tune him out. I want to go find Ash. Make sure he’s okay. But would he let me see him? Would he even talk to me? Probably not. He’d most likely tell me to go fuck myself.
Once there’s nothing more to say from any of us, I make my way back to my bedroom and try to resume finishing my homework. But I can’t concentrate.
All I can think about is Ash.
Deciding I can’t do this, I shut my notebooks, my binders, my textbooks. I pile them all on top of my desk and then I leave my bedroom. Sneak down the stairs, making my way through the mostly darkened house until I’m in my mom’s office, which overlooks the backyard and the pool.
Where I spot Ash sitting on the edge of one of our lounge chairs, his hand over his eye, his head tilted back as Mom stands there, talking to him. Dad stands just behind Mom, his hands on his hips, his face full of concern—and barely contained anger. My heart lurches, seeing all three of them outside. Together.
Having Ash at our house will change everything.
And I don’t know if I want anything to change.
Seventeen
Fable
Drew takes my hand and leads me toward the pool. The water is lit, a gentle blue that casts our backyard in an almost ethereal glow, and I see the boy. Sitting with his back to us, hunched over as if he wishes he could make himself disappear. Our steps slow, and when I glance over at my husband, he sends me a look, one that says go easy.
As if I’d come hard at this poor child who’s just been beaten by his mother’s piece-of-shit boyfriend. Please. I totally feel his pain. I dealt with enough of my dead mother’s piece-of-shit boyfriends to last me three lifetimes.
“Hey Ash. You’ve met my wife before, right? You remember?” Drew’s voice is soft, like he’s speaking to a skittish animal, and I have a flash of memory of him talking to me the same exact way. In those early days of our relationship, when I was always this close to running.
Though the real runner in those early days was Drew. Can’t remind him, though. He hates that.
“Yeah. Hey.” The boy’s voice is a raspy croak, and I wonder if the man also choked him. “Mrs. Callahan. Sorry to show up like this.”
We’re standing right in front of him now, and I’m overwhelmed with the need to reach out and touch his shoulder. Offer him comfort. I’m sure he’d flinch, whether he was injured there or if I spooked him, so I keep my hands to myself. “Don’t apologize. And please, call me Fable.”
He lifts his head, flicking dark hair out of his eyes, and it takes everything I have not to gasp out loud. It physically pains me to see how badly he’s been beaten, to know that someone pummeled this poor child’s face, all over a pack of cigarettes. His left eye is swollen and there’s a cut above it that looks painful. He rests his hand over it, as if he knows it’s horrible to look at, the poor thing.
“Maybe he should see a doctor.” I turn to Drew, who has a helpless expression on his face.
“Fuck that,” Asher Davis spits out, then immediately looks contrite. “I don’t want to go to the hospital, ma’am. If I do that, they’ll report what happened to me. And then they’ll put me in foster care, or worse: jail.” He grimaces, then immediately evens out his face as best he can, as if that might’ve hurt him. “Sorry for cursing, but I do not want that to happen.”