Page 65 of Avenged

I’d told Travis something I hadn’t told anyone before. I’d told him Dad had hit me when he was drunk and angry and looking for someone to take it out on. It had never been a beating. It had never been more than one slap or punch. It was as if that one action jerked him out of his stupor long enough to realize what he’d done. And then he’d head to his room with the rest of a bottle, slamming the door, and leaving us to ourselves again.

I’d known he regretted it every time he’d laid his hands on me. I knew he was tortured inside, but I still hadn’t been able to forgive him for it.

I saw anger fly across Travis’s face.

“They’re letting him out?” His voice shook with the rage I felt. But underneath my rage was a sense of helplessness and a hopefulness I hated to have. That Dad didn’t deserve. Maybe he had changed. Maybe… I hated myself for feeling it, because I knew, in reality, it wasn’t going to be true, and yet I still felt the small hope burst into flame.

“I…I don’t know…”

“What does this mean for you? For Vi?”

I felt myself gag on absolutely nothing, and I pushed him out of the way as I dry heaved out of the truck for the second time since I’d known him. When nothing came out, Travis closed the space between us and took me into his arms. Arms I’d had wrapped around my body more times than I’d had from anyone other than Violet in so long I didn’t know what to do with it.

I didn’t cry. I didn’t have tears to shed for my dad. I’d already shed them all.

“I don’t know… I just don’t know…” I whispered into his shoulder.

He rubbed my back and then squeezed me so tight I thought he was going to melt our bodies into one being.

“Don’t tell Violet. Please. I can’t tell her. Not yet.”

He nodded into my hair, and I realized something else.

Travis was the first man I’d trusted with my secrets. I’d certainly never told Skip about the things that happened at home. He’d never known about the pain my periods had caused me back then. This man…he’d seen me at my very worst over the last few weeks and rarely at my best.

After sitting in his arms for longer than I should have, I pulled away and looked behind him to the house.

“What did Randy say?” I asked.

“He said they’ve made good work on the foundation but hadn’t started on the floors.”

“How long?”

“He didn’t want to say for sure, but maybe a few more weeks.”

I stared over his shoulder at the house I’d been calling home for nearly two years. It had been full of love and acceptance I’d held stretched out away from my body for fear of taking it in behind my shield. For fear of them loving me and then leaving me.

“Thank you. Again,” I said with a grimace.

“Stop thanking me. I haven’t done anything.” He eyeballed me like I might break apart, and to be fair, he’d seen me do just that over and over again.

I pulled myself back fully into the pickup and pulled on the door. He frowned and then jogged around the front to get in.

We drove for a few minutes back toward his house before he asked the question I had known was coming. “Are you going to go to the hearing?”

“Yes. But I need to see him before that,” I said, because I did. I needed to see him. I needed to know if he’d changed.

“How often have you been to see him?” Travis asked.

“I haven’t.”

“Not at all?” His voice rang with shock.

I shook my head and then asked, “Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?”

He considered this for so long I wasn’t sure he’d heard me, or maybe he’d heard and didn’t want to answer. Finally, his eyes flicked to me and then back to the road before he said, “I don’t know.”

“Really?” It surprised me that Travis hadn’t immediately said yes.

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