Chapter Eleven

"Are you fucking kidding me? Shorty? Little Curly Sue from next door?"

I thought Asher would shit his pants after finding out Shorty is alive. I'm hoping she will want to pick up where we left off before our worlds changed. I want to kick myself for not getting her number. But I knew our unexpected reunion would trigger a shit load of overwhelming emotions, so I watched her from afar like a crazy fucking stalker. After that night, I couldn't stop thinking about her. I wanted to know more about her life. I wanted to be near her. Feel her.

"What are we going to do now?" Asher asks curiously.

"First, I'm going to confront Mom." My words barely make it out of my clenched jaw. The woman adored Shorty and promised she would pick her up for my birthday. Instead, she ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped on it when she told me Shorty died from an "unexpected accident."

Unexpected, my ass.

I can feel the anger flowing through my veins. The hunger in me to punch someone to a bloody pulp is too intense.

Asher analyzes me with his level gaze.

"Fuck. I can't believe she's back." He says it like he is talking to himself.

Rubbing the nape of my neck, I respond with a heavy sigh. "I know." I walk toward the window, watching the trees sway back and forth with ease.

"What the fuck are we supposed to do with that?"

Fuck if I know.

The air in the room shifts when the front door slams. "Boys! I'm home." The sound of Mom's voice sends shivers up and down my spine. Asher stiffens and straightens his posture. I know he was hurting as much as I was when we were kids Asher loved Shorty like a sister. He worshiped her and wanted to protect her just as much as I did.

Ash was the first to witness Shorty's father in action when he slapped her in the face for accidentally spilling milk on the kitchen floor. He hit her so hard she fell off her chair to the ground. I will never forget that day when Ash ran home in angry tears, begging Mom to let Shorty move in with us. I grabbed my baseball bat, ready to knock her father off his ass, but Mom intervened, promising she would handle it. I was eight, not stupid. I knew what that meant.

Nothing was going to happen. Every time Shorty had a new bruise on her body, I told Mom, but no one could convince Shorty's mom to leave her father or report his ass.

We sprint down the U-shaped staircase, ready to come face to face with the woman we trusted to protect us, but instead, she threw a grenade, shattering the shell around our fragile hearts, leaving the shrapnel behind for us to pick away over time.

Mom is putting the groceries away in the fridge. `Mom has always been a selfless person, which is why it's difficult for me to understand why she lied about Shorty being dead.

"Guess who I ran into, mom."

"Who, baby?" She asks.

"Shorty." I try to keep my tone calm and emotionless, but fuck is it hard to pretend it doesn't affect me. "Can you believe that? She has risen from the dead."

Mom freezes and drops a small produce bag to the multi-color marble floor. She slowly turns around to face us with her mouth open and wide eyes like she has seen a ghost. Her guilty expression confirms that the story she spewed out of her mouth all those years ago was a fucking lie which makes the pain in my heart ten times worse.

Clasping my hands over my head, I ask, "Why?" in a resentful tone.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

A distressed sob escapes her, and she drops her face into her hands. Her shoulders shake as she cries. In a normal situation, I would wrap my arms around Mom to comfort her like a good son, but this is not a normal situation, and I am not that good son today.

The silence is killing me. I'm losing my patience.

"Just fucking tell me the goddamn truth!" I slam my fists on the island's countertop. Mom jumps backward toward the fridge with a frightened look on her face. Ash lays his hand on my shoulder, reminding me to calm down. But it doesn't help because she's not answering my question. I shove him off me and walk toward Mom, but he sidesteps me, placing himself between Mom and me. "Calm yourself, brother." Asher stares me down. Ash is the only person who knows how to bring me back down to a calm state of mind. I've never spoken to Mom this way—never raised my voice to her. A slight feeling of regret rips through my chest. I take a step back with my hands in the air, waving my white flag.

Can't she see how this is fucking gutting me?

"Mom. What happened?" Asher asks." Mom walks toward us, wiping the tears from her eyes, and sits on the barstool. Ash and I follow her lead and sit across from her. Taking a deep breath, Mom begins to speak.

"After we moved, I promised to stay in touch with Dia to check in whenever I could. A week before your birthday" —she looks at me— "Dia

called and asked me to meet her at the local coffee shop near her work. Claudia was covered in bruises. More than I have ever seen. I felt so helpless and guilty for not doing anything to stop it. But she refused my help every time. If she tried to take her kids away from him, he would find them and kill them. She couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk it. She was afraid, so afraid. But then I remembered how you fell apart the day we moved."

How can I ever forget that day? I close my eyes against the image of Shorty running after Mom's car and crying ugly tears, tearing my soul out of my body.

Mom sniffles, looking toward the window above the sink as she continues. "I asked her if I could pick Sadie and Josiah up for your birthday. I wanted them out of that house even if it was just for a night." Her face is twisted in pain as the tears cascade down her face like a waterfall. She begins weeping, trying to catch her breath by holding her hands to her chest. Ash reaches across the counter, grasping her hand.

I can't do it. Not this time, and it kills me that I can't be there for her.

She glances up at Ash and smiles with adoration. Her eyes finally find mine. All I can see is pain, regret, and guilt. What does she see in my eyes? Agony, heartbreak, betrayal, and loneliness. Shorty was everything to me. I've always had anger issues, but Shorty made the noise in my head quiet. She was my calm. Mom knew that, and she still lied about her dying. I cannot forget the lie, nor can I forgive. Not this.

She pulls away from Ash, placing her hands in her lap and keeping her gaze down. "Claudia asked me to make you believe that Shorty was dead. Shorty was a wreck when we left." Mom looks at me with sad eyes. "I didn't agree with her at first, but then she told me things were so much worse." Her gaze shifts between Ash and me. "He broke her wrists, ribs,

nose…a-and knocked her out until sh-she passed out," she croaks through trembling lips.

The blood in my veins freezes.

Wiping her tears and catching her breath, she says, "And that's just half of what she suffered. Claudia was in fear of her daughter's life. She told me he was going to kill her. He left her in the hospital for a week because of her injuries. Claudia believed that if you thought she was dead you wouldn't be able to seek her out. It was the only way to keep both you and Shorty safe."

The stabbing pain in my stomach feels like acid is being poured down my throat. Hearing about the pain Shorty endured in her parents' home, where she was supposed to feel safe, I can only imagine how alone and scared she must have felt. Was she calling out to me through the walkie-talkie, hoping I was on the other end?

Tears well up in my eyes and I let them fall. My heart is officially broken. Nothing will be able to repair the damage that has already been done. I turn to face Ash, with his head hanging low silently crying with both fists against his forehead. I turn to face Mom. I know she can sense the anger vibrating from my chest when I speak. "How does making us believe she was dead going to help her? That doesn't make any sense."

Wiping the tears from her face, Mom hesitates for a minute before responding. "Claudia made Sadie believe that the abuse was her fault because she was missing you." Mom's lips began to tremble. "It was the only way she could let you go."

And there it is.

The one thing Shorty was always afraid of was being blamed for what her father did to her. To force a child to believe she was the cause of the bruises, the mental and emotional abuse…

Un-fucking-believable.

"I told you the reason she couldn't come to your party was that she had the flu."

I remember Mom saying that. I begged Mom to take me to see her, but she said Shorty needed her rest. What she really needed was me. I grew impatient and found my way to the bus stop in the rain, but Dad found me and dragged my ass back home kicking and screaming.

"I waited a week after your birthday to tell you," Mom says. "I stayed in touch afterward to make sure she was still alive. I wanted to do more, but I couldn't risk her getting hurt even more."

Did I hear her right? Ash must feel the same way I do because his body tenses with his clenched fists on the counter and he slowly lifts his head.

"You kept in touch with her after you made us believe Shorty was dead?"

She nods in shame, keeping her head down. Mom can't look at us anymore. She fucked up and knows it. "I did it to protect you," she says in a whisper.

I abruptly stand up, the stool falling backward. "Are you fucking kidding me?" I roar, sensing the veins in my neck standing out in enraged ridges ready to explode.

Running my hands down my face, I'm ready to pull my hair out.

"You made me believe my heart and soul was dead. DEAD! Do you know what that does to a ten-year-old boy? You knew how much she meant to me. To us." I point at Asher. I close my eyes, trying to catch my breath and reigning in my anger. "You knew the pain I was going through. You took her away from me. And for what? To protect me? That's bullshit, Mom, and you know it." I start to pace back and forth with my hands on top of my head. I stop to face her because I need her to see my face when I tell her the damage she and Shorty's mom caused.

"Do you know what you did to Shorty? She suffered for years, Mom, and you knew about it and did nothing! Nothing! How could you do that to her? She was just a fucking kid!"

"What's going on in here?" Dad walks in with his suitcase in hand. I don't answer him. Instead, I turn away when Mom chokes out in a sob, "I'm so sorry."

I glance over my shoulder, keeping my eyes to the floor, and say, "For which part? Because guess what? She has another bastard beating the shit out of her now. I couldn't protect her then because you took that chance away from me."

Asher looks like someone stabbed him in the heart. But the anguish on his face can't compare to my broken heart, because he didn't know about Shorty's ex-boyfriend and what he did to her. I give him a look, letting him know that I'm sorry. I couldn't hurt him any more than what he feels now.

He nods in understanding.

Dad looks confused and shocked at my outburst.

I don't wait for a reply, ignoring Dad calling out to me, not wanting to hear any more lies. I run up the stairs, taking them two at a time, slamming my bedroom door. I pace back and forth from the door to my bed. I punch the wall beside the window with my fist, leaving a dent. A picture frame falls onto the desk from the impact. Knowing what it already was, I turn it over to see a picture of me, Shorty, and Ash on the last day of school three months before we moved. Shorty was glowing that day. She wore her favorite red and white polka dot dress with a white belt, white ruffle trim ankle socks, and shiny red shoes. She was so excited, knowing her father would be gone for a while. During that time, she was free. Free from pain. Free from being shackled by her father's hatred. She was just a typical nine-year-old girl hanging out with two of her favorite boys. Before her

dad came home that final night, we sat on top of my rooftop, staring at the stars. One of our favorite things to do together. I remember that night as if it was yesterday.

"Do you see that bright star that looks like a unicorn?" I ask Shorty, pointing toward the night sky.

"That's not a unicorn." She giggles. I can never get enough of her laugh. It's contagious and makes me feel all weird inside.

"Sure, it is. How about we pretend it's a unicorn." I turn my head sideways to glance at Shorty's expression. A smile forms on my lips.

As if she can sense my gaze, Shorty turns, lying on her side with both her hands in a praying position tucked underneath her face. She smiles and the glitter from her lip gloss shimmers under the moonlit sky. "Why did you pick a unicorn?" she asks with a curious smile.

I position my body in the same way to face her. "Because they're pure and innocent. They have the powers to heal. Did you know that their horns heal wounds, and their tears can heal a broken heart?" I tuck her crazy curls behind her ear and away from her eyes.

"Really? That's so cool. I wish I was a unicorn," she whispers excitedly.

"Me too, Shorty."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, because then I could heal your bruises, and you could heal my broken heart when I leave." Her eyes are filling up.

She's going to cry.

I don't like making her cry.

"I'm sorry, Shorty." I wipe the tears away as they spill out of her eyes. "I didn't mean to make you sad."

"You didn't, Doni," she says in a quiet tone. "You make me happy. I'm going to marry you one day." She giggles.

"Oh yeah? You think so, huh?" I jokingly say with a grin.

"Yup. Because we'll take care of each other." She bobs her head up and down in excitement.

"I can do that. I'll marry you, Shorty. If it means I get to keep you, then we will get married."

"Promise?" she asks, taking my pinky into hers.

"Promise," I say as I place a soft kiss on her pinky.

Shorty rolls onto her back and entwines her hands, placing them on her stomach. She begins to sing softly, like a whisper. "Twinkle, twinkle little star. How I wonder where you are. Up above the world so high. Like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle little star, watch over my Doni from afar."

The gnawing pain tears through me like a blade from a sword to my already broken heart. I drop to the floor on my knees, clenching the picture frame close to my chest and I cry like a little girl.