Part 30 (1/2)
”Protected is not the right word,” she said, sniffing behind the dish towel.
”I don't get it. Was there ... s.e.xual abuse?” I couldn't believe how presumptuous I was becoming, how much nerve I'd suddenly garnered in the face of adversity. To just blurt out something so sensitive like that bordered on brutality.
Tears pushed past her lashes and flowed in rivulets down her cheeks, answering for her.
”And he protected you the best he could. How can you turn your back on him now?”
”I told you, protected is not the right word.”
The end of my patience was rocketing toward me. Why would she not want to help him? I saw how much he'd worried about her, how he'd risked his life that night just to stay with her. He could have run away, gone to the police, turned his psychotic father in to the authorities and been free. But he stayed. For her.
”What is the right word, then?” I asked, a caustic edge to my voice.
After a long moment of thought, she looked up at me, her green eyes s.h.i.+mmering in the afternoon sun. ”Endured.”
Okay. That threw me. ”I don't understand. What-?”
”My father”-she interrupted, her voice cracking under the weight of her words-”my father never touched me. I was simply the weapon he wielded to control Reyes.”
”But you just ... implied there was s.e.xual abuse.”
Her gaze lifted to mine, her green eyes almost hostile at what I was forcing her to say. ”He never touched me. Me. I didn't say there wasn't s.e.xual abuse.”
I sat blindsided, stunned into silence a full minute, absorbing what Kim told me, turning it over and a.n.a.lyzing it in my mind. It was painful even to contemplate, like the thought itself was a physical ent.i.ty, a box covered in razor sharp shards of gla.s.s, slicing through my fingertips every time I tried to open it.
”At first, he used animals to control him.”
Refocusing on her fragile face, I stumbled back to her.
”When Reyes was little, he used animals. If Reyes misbehaved, the animals paid the price, suffered because of him. Our father learned early on he couldn't control him otherwise.”
I blinked, allowed the words to sink in despite my sudden reluctance to hear them.
”Then my mother, a drug addict who ended up dying from complications due to hepat.i.tis, gave him the ultimate weapon. Me. She dropped me on his doorstep and never looked back. She gave my father power over Reyes. If he did not obey the man's every command, I went without dinner. Breakfast. Lunch. And eventually water. On and on, until Reyes gave in. Our father had no interest in me whatsoever except as a tool. Leverage over my brother's every move.”
I sat speechless, unable to comprehend such an existence. To even imagine Reyes so helpless, a veritable slave to a monster. My chest tightened and my stomach knotted and I felt my breakfast edging back toward my mouth. I swallowed hard and took several deep breaths, disgusted with myself for making Kim relive horrors I could barely imagine.
”But you have to understand how Reyes is,” she continued, unaware of my predicament, ”how he thinks. What I've just told you is the truth, but the way he sees it, our father hurt me because of him. He took the burden onto his own shoulders all those years, carried the weight of my well-being like a king shoulders the welfare of his people.”
I fastened my jaw shut to keep my chin from quivering.
”He told me that no one would ever hurt me because of him again. How can he think that? It was just the opposite. My father hurt him because of me.” After she wiped at a tear, she leveled a hapless gaze on me. ”Do you know why I'm telling you this?”
Her question surprised me, and I shook my head. I hadn't thought of it.
”Because it's you.”
I did my best to focus, to get past everything she was telling me and listen.
”From the time Reyes was little, he's had seizures. Sometimes they would last for over an hour. When he came out of them, he would have the most bizarre memories. Memories of a girl with dark hair and sparkling gold eyes. I knew the minute I opened the door, it was you.”
He had memories? Of me? My pulse quickened.
”He said he saved your life once. Said a man had taken you into an apartment.” She leaned forward. ”In case you've ever wondered, you weren't going to make it out of that apartment alive. The man was going to do what he wanted and then smother you. He'd done it before.”
A jolt of anxiety rushed through me. ”Reyes knew I was in danger?” I asked, finding my voice at last.
”Yes. Another time, he only thought you were in danger, but he said your stepmother was yelling at you in front of dozens of onlookers. You were scared and mortified. Those strong emotions are what caused him to seize. He was so outraged when he got there, so worried about you, he said he almost cut your stepmother in two just to teach her a lesson. But you begged him in soft whispers to let her be.”
With the images of that day swimming in my head, I said, ”I remember. He was so angry.”
”Later, he learned how to find you without the seizures. He would go into a trancelike state just to see you, just to watch you.” She smiled, remembering happier times. ”He called you Dutch.”
Shaking visibly, I released a long, labored breath. Every word she spoke only evoked more questions, an even deeper lack of understanding.
”If Reyes learned to control what he is, to harness the power he had and to use it, why didn't he ... stop your father?”
She shrugged. ”I don't think he believed it.”
My brows slid together. ”I don't understand.”
”In Reyes's mind, it was all a fantasy. None of it was real at that time. Even you were a fabrication of his imagination, the girl of his dreams. But I knew what he did was real. When we got older, I started to research some of what he had imagined, what he'd done. Everything he told me actually happened.”
The intelligence sparkling behind Kim's eyes belied the soft-spoken, meek woman I'd met earlier. She'd learned to hide what she was. What she was capable of. Admiration welled inside me. I would've loved to be friends with her in a different life. Under different circ.u.mstances. Then again, anything was possible.
”Do you know ... do you know what he is?”
The question didn't surprise her. ”No. Not at all,” she said, shaking her head. ”I just know he's special. He's not like us. I'm not even sure he's human.”
I couldn't have agreed more. ”What about his tattoos?” I asked. ”Did he ever tell you what they mean?”
”No.” Her posture relaxed minutely. ”He just told me he'd always had them. Ever since he could remember.”
”I know they mean something-I just can't put my finger on it.” I pressed a palm to my forehead as if to stop my thoughts from racing so fast.
”Are you like him?” she asked, her voice completely matter-of-fact.
I took a deep breath and refocused. ”No. I'm a grim reaper.” Which always sounded so bad when said aloud. But she just smiled, wide and pretty. It took me by surprise.
”That's what he told me. You ferry souls to the other side. He said you sparkle like a newborn galaxy and have more att.i.tude than a rich kid with his daddy's Porsche.”
I couldn't keep a hiccup of laughter from escaping. ”Yeah, well, he's got a little att.i.tude himself.”
She chuckled and folded the towel in her lap. ”I think that's what kept him going. His att.i.tude. If he hadn't been so strong, I don't think he would have made it.”
My heart ached with everything Kim had told me. I wanted him to be okay. I wanted everything bad that had ever happened to him to be erased. But how could it if he didn't wake up? ”Can't you please try to stop this?” I asked, my voice desperate.