Page 153 of My Sweet Dollie, You Have to Love Me
A gentle sob accompanies the heavy patter of feet coming down the stairs.
Dollie.
I sit straighter on the dresser, waiting for her little legs to come into view.
And there they are, red and purple in places they weren’t before.
“Dollie,” I barely mumble, putting less pressure on my cheeks.
“Ambrose? What happened to your face?” She looks straight at me, noticing the bleeding flaps of skin that gift me my permanent smile.
There’s no way to answer that—too many words. I’ll only delay my healing.
Dollie speaks again, “I’m so cold, Ambrose.”
“Oh, Dollie,” Colin coos. “Have you learned your lesson? That down here isn’t so bad? That it could always be worse. Would you like me to make it warmer?”
Dirty curls fall into her face with a single nod.
“Okay then.”
His back blocks me from seeing what he does to light the fire, but when he steps away, an orange glow burns through small logs in the stove.
“Are you still cold?” he asks Dollie, whose hand he holds tightly.
Her fingers stay extended, avoiding his skin as she nods her head.
“You are?”
“It’s freezing, and I hate it, and we want to go home to Mommy and Daddy and Duggan and my favorite blankets.”
“Well, if you’re that cold, get a little closer.”
His fingers loosen enough to slide to her elbow. Tightening his grip, he yanks her forward and shoves her hand into the open door with the orange flame.
Her scream is deafening.
My legs shake, ready to run and help her, but my insides shake over the idea of being that close to the monster who holds her.
“Ambrose, please help me! Please, please help me!” Her little voice cracks with pain, and so does my heart.
Ignoring my concerns for my own safety, I push myself off the dresser and splash through the water with everything down to my soul shaking.
My steps slow slightly as I reach Colin, but I focus solely on Dollie—the tears on her face, the fear in her eyes, and the pain leaving her body in deafening screams.
Without thinking about it, I shove my hand in with hers. Flames eat away at my skin, but I don’t think about the pain it causes. I only think about the repercussions, not the scars, and what Colin will do to me for intervening.
I elbow him once, twice, three times, hoping his grip will cease, and I force another hand in to try to pull Dollie’s out.
Only when the flame from my arm, burning off the sleeve of his ugly shirt and melting it to my skin forever, touches him does he step back.
I throw myself into the water, dragging Dollie with me.
The flames fade out beneath a blur of tears and the dirty liquid.
Dollie’s body wraps around mine, holding me tightly. Her scarred hand clutches the clothes I hate, and the other gets some relief from the feel of my cleaner hair.
Colin smiles. “Your parents will be pleased that you’re bonding. You really are a good big brother. They’ll be on the news in a few days. As a reward, I’ll let you watch them.”
