Chapters (35)
I dropped my hands to my knees as I felt the familiar anger building inside me. “I was home over Thanksgiving break and I was in the kitchen. Teresa was in there and we were messing around. She pushed me and I pushed her back, on her arm. Not even hard and she cried out like I’d seriously hurt her. At first I thought she was just being dumb, but there were tears in her eyes. She played it off and I forgot about it for that night, but on Thanksgiving morning, Mom walked in on her in a towel and she saw it.”
Avery took a deep breath, and I shook my head. “My sister . . . she was covered in bruises. Up and down her arms, on her legs.” I closed my hands into helpless fists. “She said it was from dancing, but we all knew you couldn’t get bruises like that from dancing. It took almost all morning to get the truth out of her.”
“It was her boyfriend?” she asked quietly.
I swallowed hard. “The little fuck had been hitting her. He was smart about it, doing it in places that weren’t so easily noticeable. She stayed with him. I didn’t know why at first. Come to find out that she was too scared of him to break up.” Unable to sit still, I stood and prowled toward the window. “Who knows how long it would’ve continued if Mom hadn’t walked in when she did. Would Teresa have finally told someone? Or would that bastard have just kept hitting her one night and killed her?”
My head hung forward. All of this felt like yesterday—the anger and helplessness. “God, I was so pissed, Avery. I wanted to kill the fuck. He was beating up my sister and my dad wanted to call the police, but what were they really going to do? Both of them were minors. He’d get his hands slapped and get counseling, whatever. And that’s bullshit. I wasn’t okay with that. I left Thanksgiving night and I found him. Didn’t take much, fucking small town and all. I knocked on his door and he came right out. I told him he couldn’t come around my sister anymore and you know what that little punk did?”
“What?” she whispered.
“He got all up in my face, puffing his fucking chest at me. Told me he would do whatever the fuck he wanted.” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I lost it. Angry isn’t even the word to use. I was enraged. I hit him and I didn’t stop.” Pulse pounding, I faced her. “I didn’t stop hitting him. Not when his parents came out or when his mom starting screaming. It took two police officers to get me off him.”
Avery didn’t say anything as she stared at me.