Page 27 of Vaughn

I rack my brain, trying to figure out what will be the one thing that'll keep her mind off the bad shit. It takes me a minute, but then it hits me. "Have you ever been to the train trestle?"

"Train trestle?"

Sometimes I forget how sheltered she's been, that she hasn't had the same experiences I have. "You know the main trailhead at the Falls? There's a train trestle and a lot of teenagers carve their names in hearts on it. Word says that if you do it, and your names are visible within a year, then you're destined to be together."

She's quiet for a few moments. "Have you ever done that with a girlfriend of yours?"

"Not yet, but the one I'm holding in my arms right now might be the first I'm tempted to do it with."

Our eyes meet, and hers are warm, full of affection. "I hope so." She whispers.

Me too...

CHAPTER TWENTY

Val

I've never wanted to tell anyone about what I endured with my family before. I thought about it, of course, but I was terrified of so many situations that I could've found myself in. Not to mention I was scared for my brothers and sisters.

Not my mother, though.

She stayed, when she should've left. So many times she should've left.

But she never cared about anything other than making my father happy, and serving her Lord. I harbor a lot of anger toward her, and I'm unsure of how I'll react if I see her again. Collecting my thoughts, I tangle my fingers in Vaughn's shirt.

"I don't know where I should start."

"At the beginning, it's always the best. For me the beginning for you, is why you left. It could actually be classified as your ending, but you decided to change your life."

Vaughn is thoughtful, much more than I'd assumed when he and I started this. That's what I get for assuming so much about this man. He's intrigued me since the first moment I met him, but never in a million years did I think we'd be wherewe are right now. "And because of that, you're right. It was my beginning."

"You ready to tell me about your ending? What forced you to leave?"

I swallow hard, and close my eyes. I don't want him to see my face, I don't want to seehiseyes when I admit what I was living through. What I was allowing myself to tolerate. "I kind of always thought that my life was different from others, but it didn't quite hit me until I was a bit older. As an early teen, I was confident that the life I was living was what I was supposed to be doing, that we were doing things in order to get into heaven. That's what my father continued to say over and over again, we needed to live our lives in a way that we'd be able to get into heaven."

"Which is deranged for someone to be saying to a child. How old were you?" His rough voice asks, his finger making circles on my shoulder. It's comforting, and I'm beyond glad he's here with me.

"It started when I was very young. One of my first memories was my father telling me not to anger my elders because God would want me to behave and follow the rules. When I was ten, I was told that the only way for me to honor my parents would be to obey them. Every word, every rule, every action. No matter what those words, rules, or actions were. They were meant to instill fear in us, and it did, up until the moment I left. The way they did, I almost didn't notice."

He chuckles. "That's how cults start, Val. You don't realize you're being brainwashed until one day you wake up and you have no idea what the fuck you've been doing."

I hate to admit he's right. "One day it was as if a light bulb went off over my head. I looked around, noticed we were all wearing the same things, doing the exact same work every day, and there was no individuality. I wanted so badly to cut my hair."

Running his hands through the strands that are still so long they go down to my but, he comments. "Why haven't you done that yet?"

"Part of me is still scared." I whisper. "Standing up to the ideals you had your whole life is hard, but it's what happened the night before I left that pushed me to go."

His arms tighten around me, giving me the courage I need to get through this.

"I'd noticed my uncle watching me much closer than he ever had." I start.

"The fucker that showed up here the other day?"

"Yeah, same one." The ticking of the clock in the background is loud to my ears, the hot water heater thunders along with it. For a moment it all seems to be too much. But then I realize that the more I shy away from it, the more power I give him, Vaughn's right. "One night, he came into my bedroom after everyone had gone to sleep. I heard him because I wasn't asleep yet, but something told me I needed to pretend like I was. So I did."

His grip tightens on me. "I want you to know if I get angry, it's absolutely not at you, it's at this piece of shit. I think I know what you're going to tell me, but this is your story, and I want you to continue."

I nod, because I understand. It makes me angry every time I think about it. I gather my courage, and continue. "He looked around, before locking the door. Since I was the oldest, I was allowed to have my own room, and it was my safe haven. I spent most of my time there, and it was one of the only rooms in the house with a lock on it." I think back to that night, shivering slightly. "When I heard the lock turn, I was terrified. It was as if I knew what was about to happen." He'd talked softly, calling my name, and I'd ignored him. "He walked over to my bed and had a seat on the side."

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