Page 80 of Broken Skulls

“You were protecting what was yours,” he reminds me.

He’s right, and I’d do it a zillion times over. I kept quiet because I didn’t want Mr. Baxter to know he had a child. But I could have saved myself before it got to that point. I endured so many days watching a mad man give into his demented desires. Fear. I let fear rule my life. Sure, I was terrified of him, but I was also afraid of how people would look at me if they found out. I didn’t want to be a victim, so instead I let myself be the villain … just like Lexie.

“I could have told someone before then. For months he just painted me, he didn’t …” I pause, again letting my fear rise. The fear of what he will think of me. I’m tired of living in fear. Actually, I haven’t been living in it. I’ve beendrowningin it.

I pull my shoulders back and look him in the eye. “He only had sex with me once. He didn’t like it. I … I was too warm, too alive. Looking back, I’m sure something made him that way.”

“Don’t make excuses for him. You don’t have to forgive him.”

“I know that. But how do I forgive myself?”

His face changes, and his lips part. “I’ve asked myself that same question several times. I watched my dad kill my mom. I stood in the doorway and did nothing as he beat the life out of her. How do I forgive myself for that?”

“You were a child, Jacob.”

“So were you.”

He presses his forehead against mine. “How about we start over together. Let’s be kids again. We can give ourselves a do-over. That’s how we forgive ourselves.”

His enthusiasm makes me giggle.

“Perfect,” he whispers.

I stare into his blue eyes, full of mischief and wonder. “Do you really think we can do it?”

“Of course we can. We can do anything we want. Two kids against the world.”

Soft sobs begin to waft from behind the bathroom door.

“Should you go to her?” he asks.

“No. I think she needs a minute to think about things, but I’ll be right here when she’s ready to open the door.”

He leans away from me. “You understand her?”

“I think I do.”

His lips press against my forehead. “I’ll finish getting breakfast ready.”

I nod, laying my head against the wall as he walks away.

A few minutes later, Lexie opens the door, hugging her towel around her. I take her hand and pull her to Jacob’s room. It makes me feel good to be able to offer this young girl help.

“Here, I think these will fit you.”

I turn my back to her as she gets dressed. When she’s finished, I grab a brush and sit on the bed. She sits beside me, and after a few moments turns so I can brush her hair.

It’s the same color as my daughter’s.

“I don’t know why all of you are so nice to me,” she says quietly.

It makes me laugh. “I’m new, remember? But I understand. I don’t know why they’re nice to me either.”

“I don’t recall the last time someone brushed my hair.”

I continue to do it. “I’m not hurting you, am I?” The nurses at the home brushed my hair for me most days. They were definitely not nice about it.

“No. It feels good.”

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