Page 52 of Free to Run
“You have no idea what you and your brother have managed to do to me in a few short days. Not a clue. You both took something from me, and I’m not quite ready to forget that.” I feel Corinna’s hand squeeze my shoulder.
“No, honey, that’s not the way it was meant,” Cassidy tries to convince me.
“That’s the way it felt. And right now, that’s all I care about.” I run my hand over my face. “As for your brother, while it’s none of your business, it was scary and exciting to see that place you claim he has. You know, a heart.” I laugh, but it’s harsh. “Apparently, he took offense to my caution. Since it was his way or no way, I chose the easy solution—my way.” Hearing nothing, I check Corinna’s phone to make sure the call is still connected because Cassidy isn’t responding. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t want to play his games anymore, or yours. I’m worth a hell of a lot more than that.”
“Alison…” Cassidy cries, but I’m ruthless as I hang up Corinna’s phone, right before I collapse in her arms in tears.
“I shouldn’t have had to say all that, Cori.”
“I know, but tell me you don’t feel better for getting it out.”
I do, and I don’t. I’m glad my family finally understands where my head and my heart are at. I’m so vulnerable, I don’t think I can take another hit or blow without breaking. When I say as much to Corinna, she asks, “Who originally said that quote you love so much about strength, courage, and confidence?”
“God. It comes from the book of Isaiah in the Bible,” I mumble. The quote is about not being put to shame over our pasts because the humiliation of our youth will disappear.
Corinna rolls her eyes. “Not the one from the Bible. The other one.”
I sigh, sadly. “You mean Eleanor Roosevelt?”
“Yes, that one. The one where you gain more from every experience where you stop letting yourself feel fear.” She cups my face. “Stop being afraid. Don’t run from life.”
I nod, not able to do much more, hampered by the pain and doubts that enslave me.
Corinna helps me stand, pulling me to my feet. “And know I always believe in you. Who else was strong enough to hold my hand and get me through nights full of dark?” She puts her arm around my shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you back upstairs. You look like you’re about to collapse.”
After sitting with me in bed for a while, hoping I’ll fall back asleep while she strokes my hair, Corinna admits she has to head back to the office to get a cake completed for a sixteenth birthday party tomorrow.
Brushing her lips across my cheek, she makes her way downstairs and out the back door of my house, closing it softly behind her.
After she leaves, my mind refuses to let me rest, wondering what to do, how to feel. I stare at photos of me with various family members that I can see from my bed. I’m unwillingly pulled into memory after memory when finally I can’t take it anymore. Tossing aside the covers, I pull my shirt over my head.
Within moments, I’m on my way down the long drive at a fast clip, searching for my escape.
23
Keene
Ileave Cassidy, Phil, and Em devastated in Cassidy’s office. While normally I’d have sooner had someone shove raw bamboo under my fingernails than listen to the rehash of Cassidy’s conversation with Alison, I have a new appreciation for what is holding her back.
The bedrock of this family is strength and pride, and here I’ve been doing nothing but undermining Alison’s confidence. I don’t even know why.
Thundering down the stairs, I’m about to go out the front when I hear the back door slam shut.
It has to be Corinna. No one would dare enter Corinna’s sacred domain that way.
I hesitate, my thumb still on the latch of the door, ready to fling it open. Deciding it’s worth a shot, I make my way back to the kitchen.
“Corinna,” I call out. I don’t want to scare her, and announcing my presence might get me a moment’s grace.
Big mistake.
As I enter the kitchen, a platter full of whipped cream comes flying with unerring accuracy at my face. Red-tinted, strawberry-flavored whipped cream splatters all over my pristine white button-down and all over the wall behind me. The remains clatter loudly to the ground.
“W–what in the fuck was that?” I sputter, wiping my eyes so I can get a clear look at Alison’s deranged sister.
Corinna smirks, completely unrepentant. A quick glance around the room shows the cake she’s baking is pale blue, with graham cracker along the edge to resemble a beach. It’s remarkable, truly a work of art. What it doesn’t have is the color red anywhere near it.
That means her attack was planned and deliberate. I was ambushed. Gee, I wonder why.
