Page 39 of Did They Break You

I barely slept over the weekend and I couldn’t bring myself to run at Hyde Park again. It’s Monday, four days since I last saw Cortland, and I’m exhausted.

I’ve tried my best to sleep. Sloane and I watchedThe Officelast night. Ate popcorn. Settled in for the night. I saw the soft glow of her phone as she texted Asa, giggling every now and then and telling me he’s into “the nerdiest things.”

My stomach churned. I flipped away from her, on my side.

Sleep didn’t come.

I thought about Cortland’s blood in my mouth. His hand over my face. The EU hoodie he was wearing after my therapy session.

Chase’s threats in my ear.

Now, I press my brow to the cold porcelain which smells of bleach, like the entire bathroom, freshly cleaned.

Last night when I finally drifted off, unable to hold on any longer, I dreamt of them.

Of Chase’s fingers in my hair, jerking my head back. His stinging palm against my back.That branch down my spine.

“Do you ever play with knives?”

I woke up feeling sick, and I hauled ass to the bathroom.

I haven’t puked from nerves in a long time.

Not since the nothingness.

Shaking those memories away, I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth. The tile beneath my knees is hard, and I’ve got on sleep shorts and a hoodie, sleeves pulled down over my palms. I set my phone on the ground, knowing Van is sleeping and won’t see my message for a few more hours.

“Remi, I’ve heard about your dad.”

Brinklin’s words echo in my head and I heave again, bile churning up my throat. But despite my gagging, nothing comes out, and I just spit in the toilet, my heart racing as I rise unsteadily to my feet, reaching with shaky hands for the silver handle. I flush and bend down to retrieve my phone, feeling a little dizzy as I straighten again.

I turn from the toilet as the plumbing vacuums down my mess, then rest my head against the faded blue stall door.

I knock my temple against it, relishing in the pain as I squeeze my phone in my palm.

What would Sloane think of me? I haven’t even told her he’s back. Haven’t discussed it at all.

I laugh wryly alone in this stall, head still resting against the door.

For a split second, I think about Cortland back in school. His easy smile, quiet nature. People gravitated to him. Including me.

And when he set me in his sights, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

I’d lived in my head most of my life. I used to daydream I had superpowers in elementary school, could fly up to the ceiling, where everyone would watch me, cheer for me,love me.And when I was home, I could fly away, too. From my stepdad.

To my mom.

Maybe I could have saved her, if I knew how much I’d need her.

Sloane’s parents filled in where they could, but they have a big family and their own issues andit’s just not the same.

The escape I had in horror movies and books, getting lost in imaginary terrors, that was ripped away from me after that night, too.

I shudder, thinking of the movie Cortland put on after it was all over. Like nothing was wrong. Like he hadn’t done a single bad thing.

In the end, the courts confirmed just that.

I clench my fists and I try to push the image aside. Men with good looks and money always get whatever they want.

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