Page 12 of The Eraser

The ceremony goes on and I stay rooted to my seat, my body trembling as silent tears fall from my eyes.

"Quit it," Dad snarls. "Christ, Jessica, you're a fucking disgrace. There's no need to cry. Just fucking stop."

I pull in a ragged breath at his reprimand. God, I hate him so much. Why is he such a bastard? I don't get what I've done for him to hate me so much. It has to be that I merely exist. That is the only thing I can think of.

My shoulders are tense as I sit up straighter and try my hardest to stop crying.

Thankfully, the ceremony doesn't last much longer. There's only a little while left. Just the burial, and then I can crawl back into my bed and spend the rest of the day in there. I can cry out the pain and not have to worry about my dad being a fucker and complaining about it.

Dad gets to his feet and reaches for my hand. I hesitate slightly to take it, but the narrowing of his eyes is enough for me to know that I need to take it and not make a sound. To anyone watching, it looks like a doting father looking after his daughter, but it's so far from that. The tight grip he has on my hand is painful. If he squeezes any harder, I have no doubt he'll break some bones. He keeps a hold of my hand as we walk out of the church. Everyone's eyes are on us, but there's a heated gaze that pulls me from the pain of my father's hold. I glance in the direction it’s coming from, my gaze colliding with Stephen's.

The man's watching me with a predatory gaze, his eyes narrowed and intense. I've never met someone so unnerving before, but there's something about him that makes me wonder what the hell is wrong with him. Other than the intenseness of his stare, and the way his stance screams stay away, there's a deeply troubled darkness around him, one that should frighten me. Staring into those dark eyes of his, I have a feeling that I'm staring at the devil, and I have no idea why.

"Stay the fuck away from Stephen Maguire," Dad hisses as we exit the church. "You need to learn your place, Jessica. You're fourteen years old. You need to learn that you are a child."

"I haven't done anything wrong," I reply, trying my hardest to keep the anger out of my voice. Dad doesn't do well with being challenged. He's of the opinion that he should be the only one calling the shots, and to have that authority questioned or to even question him, is the wrong thing to do.

The grip he has on my hand is painful, so much so that I wince as he continues to squeeze. "You don't answer me back," he snaps. "You don't fucking ever answer me back."

I nod. "I'm sorry," I whimper. "Please, Dad, don't break my hand."

"You're fucking lucky we're in public," he snaps. "I'd fucking break it and I'd laugh while I did. You're going home after this. I don't want to see you while I go to the wake."

"Okay," I breathe, thankful I don't have to put up an act and pretend that I'm okay. I want to be alone.

"Now, no more of your crap. I've got enough to deal with today without having your bullshit too."

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Oh, Jess," I hear a soft voice say from behind me. "Are you okay?"

I turn and see my cousin walking toward me. Her soft, blue-ish silvery eyes are so pretty and mesmerizing. I know that when she's around, I'm safe. She's so very much like her father, rather than our mams. She's been busy. She's not long given birth to twins herself and is dealing with the pain she went through last year at the hands of her husband's ex-wife. Not to mention, she's now also a step-mam to three other children, one of which is my best friend, Chloe.

"I'm okay," I promise her.

But Callie, being the sweet and caring person that she is, pulls me into her arms and holds me close.

"You ever need anything, Jess, just call me, okay? You want to spend the night, you can, anytime you want."

God, my family is amazing, but I know Dad won't allow it to happen. He won't want anyone to take care of me.

Callie's fingers brush through my hair as she holds me tight. "It's got to be hard," she whispers. "Looking at Mam when she looks so, so similar to Aunt Patty."

I nod. "Yeah," I whisper softly.

"It'll all be okay," she promises me. "No matter what, it'll all be okay."

"We've got to go," Nicola says, coming over to us. "Are you ready?"

I take a deep breath and pull back from Callie. Am I ready for my mam to be buried? No. No, I'm not. But I don't have a choice. I need to say my goodbyes and then I'm going home. I need to be alone. I may even go to the dance hall and get rid of some of the anger and hurt I have bottled up.

"Come on, Jess," Callie says, taking my hand. "We'll say goodbye together."

Tears once again fall down my face. I don't want to bury her. I don't want to say goodbye. I don't want to do any of it.

Callie's hand tightens around mine. "I've got you," she whispers as we start to walk behind the cars toward the cemetery.

I have no choice. I'll regret not saying goodbye.

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