Page 72 of Barbed Wire Fences
She rolls her eyes. “Who?”
“I don’t know. My mom, a police officer, Child Protective Services, I don’t know?”
I’m grasping at anything right now, fumbling for some sense of control to reign in the fury that I’m feeling deep in my gut. It’s the same feeling that I’ve felt since Jael walked into my world two years ago and suddenly became mine to look after.
“Oh, and what get my dad thrown in jail? He’s a deadbeat, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t make occasional money to help support me and my mom living here. If you do that, we’ll have nothing. Also, who’s saying they’ll believe me? And if they don’t and he stays, it’ll only get worse for me.”
I clench my jaw. “He gambles it all away, and you know it.” I’m trying to find any angle to convince her.
She sighs. “You tell child protective services, and they’ll take me away. If I get taken away, I sure as hell won’t be placed with a family in this town. I’ll get shipped to who knows what city and probably find myself in this exact same situation except this time at the hands of people I don’t know. At least here, I can escape most days.”
I look at her, still unwilling to start my engine. She just looks so... fragile and vulnerable compared to the strong Jael that I’ve spent the last three years living next to.
I’ve always known that her parents neglected her, but I’ve never seen bruises on her body before. I never knew that they were hurting her physically too. My mind races on what to do as she snaps me back to reality.
“Stop looking at me with pity, Rhett. It’s fine. It isn’t an everyday thing. It only happens when he comes back from the casino after losing when he’s been away for a while. I’m fine,” she says firmly then points ahead. “Just take me home.”
I reluctantly turn to put the key in the ignition, feeling the rumble of it beneath my thighs attempt to steady me.
I don’t know if Jael is right about CPS. If I tell them, and they take her away, what would that mean for her? What would that mean for us? I like her, though I haven’t told her that. In fact, I’ve probably been more of a dick to her over the last two years than I should be because I like her so much.
Would I be putting her in even more danger than she’s already in living in that shitty trailer home if I reported the abuse?
My mind races as I make the short five-mile drive from our school to the trailer park where we live, thinking about the summer that’s looming before us. We have only three weeks left until school ends, and I decide to come up with any way to distract and protect Jael during that time to keep her out of her home and away from her dad. And if that means sacrificing my summer plans to hang with her instead, I’ll do it.
“It’ll be a good summer,” I say, speaking into the space that’s between us. “We’ll keep busy, keep you out of the house.”
Jael doesn’t respond to my comments and after a few seconds’ pause I turn to look at her, finding her with silent tears slowly streaming down her face.
Dammit.
I grip the wheel tighter as I continue to drive, not knowing how the hell I’m going to make this right but wanting to try.
???
I don’t want her ignoring and masking the hurt like she’d used to. I want her tofeelit. To sit with it, process it, and start to heal.
Because if Jael doesn’t address this, she’ll keep looking at this town the same way she always has—with hate and hurt buried too deep to let her breathe. And that means she’ll leave. Again. And I can’t lose her just as soon as I got her back.
“Jael,” I say again, softer this time.
She finally looks up at me, fresh tears carving trails down her pretty cheeks, her green eyes are raw with so much pain it almost knocks the air out of my chest. I swipe at the drops, clearing them and cupping her chin gently, willing her to see me. To see that she’s safe here with me.
I fucking hate what they’ve done to her but now’s my chance to show her it doesn’t have to define her anymore.
I hold her face for a few more seconds, gazing into those eyes I love. Then, without a word, I pull her against my chest, wrapping her up in the only way I know how.
“I can’t begin to understand exactly how you’re feeling right now,” I murmur, my voice steady even as my heart pounds. “But you need to grieve, Jael. To be mad, to scream, to cry, to let it all out. What you don’t need is to mask it. The way that they treatedyou your whole life waswrong.You’re right, they hurt you. And your dad doesn’t get to sweep it under the rug with a half-assed apology in a note from beyond the grave.”
I feel her tremble against me, but I don’t let go.
“But this?” I continue, my hand smoothing down her back. “Drinking yourself into oblivion so that you forget the ache that’s in your chest just like he used to? That’s not going to help you move forward. You deserve better than that. Now look at me, please.”
She lowers the bottle that was still in her grip, and her head tilts upward to meet mine. Her lower lip trembles, and my heart aches again, reminiscent of the pain I felt years ago when I first noticed the bruises on her body.
“I hate him.”
“He didn’t deserve a daughter like you,” I say as I hold her tightly, her face lowers again, burying deeper in my chest. “He didn’t deserve to get to apologize to you through a note, either. You deserve more.”
