Page 2 of Beneath the Flames
She must have seen my fury building because she took a step toward me, glancing at the back of the house.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, putting her hands on my arms.
“You don’t look like it,” I snapped quietly, pulling out of her grasp.
“It happened last night while you were…out.It was me orJoey.It wasn’t even a question.”
She didn’t have to explainwhathappened.I already knew.It wasn’t the first time.
Guilt slammed into me.Ineverleft home, wanting to be here to counteract his moods, to take the brunt of his anger, but yesterday I finally relented to my mom’s pleading.
Normally I would have said no.Every other time I said no.
But not yesterday.
And look at what had happened.My mom’s face appeared like she went one too many rounds in a boxing ring.
She easily read my expression.“It’s not your fault, Maren.Don’t you dare think as much.”
I suppressed an eye roll, not wanting to make her feel even worse, even though I wished that I could scream at her to wake up, to get out of here, to finally take care of her kids.She was right.Itwasn’tmy fault.It was hers.
“I could’ve stopped this,” I whispered, gently touching my mom’s bruised cheek.
She took my hand and kissed it.“No, my darling, you couldn’t have.”
A shaky sigh spilled out as I fought back tears.If I had been here, it would have beenmyface that looked like that.
I hated this life.I hated constantly living in fear.Constantly looking over my shoulder.
But most of all, I hatedhim.
My mom stepped away and went back to chopping vegetables like nothing even happened.Her movements were slow, like she was taking great care to not cut her fingers with her sight hindered by the swollen eye.
I glanced toward the back of the house, wondering when he’d be making an appearance.Not for the first time, I envisioned standing up to him, telling him I was takingMom and my siblings and we were never coming back.I envisioned him trying to hurt me, but finally landing a blow of my own, and the satisfying feeling of hurting him the way he’d hurt me hundreds of times.
Tears burned my eyes at the vision in my head, wishing I was brave enough to do just that.But my bravery only went as far as not leaving the farm, not leaving them unprotected, and taking my father’s abuse so they didn’t have to.
I wished I could say it was enough, but it only ever made me feel like a coward.
“Is the wind still blowing today?”I asked, swallowing the lump in my throat.
It was our secret code.It was my way of asking whether he was in one of his volatile moods.
The sudden flicker of fear in her eyes was fast, and though she tried to hide it, it was unmistakable—at least to me.I didn’t know why she even bothered masking it anymore.It did nothing to quell any of our nerves, and we all knew she was terrified of my father.
If this was going to be one of those days, it was better thatIran into town.He hated it when my mom left the house, especially when there was…evidence on her body.It only fueled his anger.After last night, I wanted to be here to protect her and my siblings, but on a day like today with those bruises on her face, me running her errands was the best way to keep them safe.
I tried to keep the tremble from my voice, trying to stay strong for her.“I can go.”
The knife slipped from her hand, clattering on the cutting board.
“Maren—”
“Mom.”The words halted in my mouth, and I squeezedmy eyes closed against the familiar burning.“Make a list, and I’ll run and get what you need.No sense in making things worse.”I glanced over my shoulder, listening for any sign of him.
The warmth of her hands touched my shoulders and spun me to face her, and my eyes burned at the look on her face.I spoke before she could change my mind.
“Let me go to town for you, Mom.If not for your sake, then for Lila and Joey.”If she wasn’t going to keep my father in a good mood by staying for herself, then she needed to do it for them.
