Page 16 of Puck Blocked
Chapter Eight
Seeing Montana break down the way she did broke me nearly as much. I fucking can’t wait to get my hands on the fucker who did that to her. The guttural sound of her sobs tore at my heart. I have to find a way to get through to her. She needs help. But before that happens, she has to be willing to admit there’s a problem.
Why is she refusing to acknowledge what we both know?
Fuck, her body is covered in bruises. I knew she was beaten badly—looking at her face told me as much. But I had no idea how bad it was until she stepped out of the tub and I saw all the marks on her torso. I’ve had my fair share of bruises. I’m a fucking hockey player, but that shit that was done to her… I’m surprised she’s even up and moving around.
After getting changed, I head downstairs. I pass the living room and an idea comes to mind.
The blanket fort will protect our secrets, Luke. No one can touch them once they're locked in here.
Her innocent childhood words replay in my head. It’s worth a shot.
Running back upstairs, I grab a handful of blankets out of the linen closet and drop them in the living room before shifting the furniture into position. Then I go about building the ultimate blanket fort. Once I’m satisfied with my limited architectural abilities, I grab the fur rug from over by the fireplace and set it in the middle. I scatter some pillows around and take one of the throw blankets from the sofa and lay it out. I stand back and admire my handiwork.
Not bad, but it needs something else…
I head into the garage and dig around in a box of Christmas decorations Aliyah made me put up the year I moved in. I find some string lights, head back inside, and drape them around the top of the fort before plugging them in and lighting them up.
Happy with the result, I flick off the room’s recessed lighting, close the blinds, and watch the little bulbs twinkle. Then I go into the kitchen and make a quick charcuterie board. I know Montana’s not going to eat a full meal, but maybe she’ll pick at something smaller. I grab two bottles of water and the wooden board now full of meats, cheeses, crackers, and fruits. And place everything in the middle of the fort. Now, the only thing I’m missing is the girl.
I find Montana in the guest room. She’s folding the clothes that are piled high on the bed next to the empty bags. Aliyah likes to shop.
“Hey, come with me for a sec. I wanna show you something.” I stand by the door, watching Montana limp from the bed over to one of the dressers.
“I should have put this away. It’s a mess. I’m sorry,” she says.
“It’s not a mess, and you can leave it, Tanna. Come on, this won’t take long.” I hold out a hand to her, hoping she’ll take it.
“Are you sure?” she asks, her brows drawn down as she stares at the pile in front of her.
“Positive. Come on. I’ll help you sort this all out later.”
Montana walks over to me, her steps tentative and clearly pained. She’s changed into a pair of shorts and a band shirt with her hair piled up on her head. Even covered in bruises, she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She places her hand in mine and follows me downstairs. I stop on the threshold of the living room and Montana gasps.
“What did you do?” she asks.
“I built us a fort. Come on.” I lead her inside and sit down in the middle. Montana sits across from me, her eyes wide and searching. There’s a hint of the old Montana behind the pain and sadness I see there.
“You used to annoy Sean and me, asking us over and over again to build these for you when we were kids. You used to love them,” I remind her.
“I remember,” she says.
“The blanket fort will protect our secrets, Luke. No one can touch them once they're locked in here,” I recite her own words back to her.
“That was something said by a child who wanted to believe.”
“No. It’s true. This fort will protect our secrets, Tanna. And we’re going to spill them all. The only people who can hear them are you, me… and the fort.”
“I don’t know…” she starts, already shaking her head.
I pick up one of the waters, twist off the cap, and hand the bottle to her. “I’ll go first.” I pull my shirt over my head and point at her name on my ribs. “On the night of Sean’s funeral, I went to the tattoo parlor with every intention of getting something to memorialize him. When I sat in the chair, though, that’s not what I asked for. I asked for your name. I wanted you to be with me in some small way. I didn’t just lose Sean that day. I lost you too, and as much as I hate admitting it, I think losing you hurt more in the end.”
Montana stares at me, at her name on my skin. “I… I didn’t die, Luke. I was right there. You chose to walk away.”
“You’re right. I did. And I chose wrong. I never should have walked away from you. I thought I was doing the right thing. By you, by Sean.”
Montana sips at the water and then sets the bottle on the rug. She closes her eyes and opens her mouth. “I… I met Andrew three years ago…”
