Playing Patience

Twenty-Four



Patience



I finally did it. I fought back. Mostly because I knew Zeke was waiting in the car for me, but also because I refused to let him touch me again. I refused to let him turn what I’d done with Zeke into something disgusting and perverted. If he touched me, it would take away all the magic from the night before. I was free. Zeke had released me and there was no way in hell I was letting this man put his hands on me.

I’d made it to my room and packed a duffle bag without seeing my dad. I visited with my mom and told her Zeke and I were together and in love. I did all that without seeing him. It wasn’t until I made my way to the front door that he blocked my path and pulled me into the kitchen.

He’d called me every name in the book. He pulled and tugged on my arms and came close to snapping my wrist, but still I fought back with every ounce of strength Zeke had given me. And when he turned me over the table and started to rip at my shorts, I knew I would continue to fight until I couldn’t anymore.

When Zeke’s voice stopped everything, I knew it was the end of pretending. There was no more hiding it. There was no more keeping it under wraps to protect my mom and sister. Zeke would never go for that. He’d want my dad either dead or in prison, and by the look in his eyes, I was sure he was seconds away from killing him.

It wasn’t until we were back at his apartment that I felt the pressure leave my chest. So much had happened in my life and I was nervous it was all about to be revealed for the world to know. I was going to go to the police and I was going to report my dad. I had to. Zeke was right. There was no way of being sure he’d never touch my sister and maybe it was selfish of me, but now that I was with Zeke, I wanted to live my life. I couldn’t do that if I was chained to that house like a mini guard dog for my sister.

The main thing was I wanted to be the one to tell my mother. It felt wrong for her to hear it from some impersonal police officer. I wanted her to know it wasn’t her fault. I wanted her to know that I should’ve said something. She was sick and I never expected her to save me since I never said anything. If my mother was going to die with my secret heavy on her chest, then I at least wanted to help soothe it as much as possible.

She, better than anyone, understood the importance of some secrets. She’d walked around my entire life knowing my father wasn’t my father, but that secret couldn’t cause bodily harm to another human being—mine could.

So after having a major heart to heart with Zeke and telling him things I never thought I’d say out loud, I lay in his arms with my eyes open until I knew he was asleep. I wanted to speak to my mother before I went to the police station the following day, and I knew there was no way in hell Zeke would let me go back to that place until my dad was firmly behind bars.

I crept out of bed and dressed as quietly as possible. I palmed his keys so they didn’t jingle and then I tiptoed through the apartment and out the door. I was scared his loud-ass car would wake everyone when I cranked it, but it was two in the morning and everyone’s windows were black.

The drive to my house was a long one. The entire time, knowing what I was on the way to do, my heart was in my throat. It was the middle of the morning so my dad would be asleep and I’d have to wake my mother, but this needed to be done.

I unlocked the front door and closed it softly behind me. The stairs creaked under my feet as I snuck up the stairs. The long hallway that cut across the house felt longer as I made my way to my mother’s bedroom door. I passed Sydney’s room and a strange noise brought me to a halt. I knew I needed to get in and get out, but I was positive I’d heard a noise come from Syd’s room.

I stepped up to her door and slowly pushed it open. The house shrank as I took in the scene in front of me. Dad was on top of Sydney. She wasn’t supposed to be home, but she definitely was, and while I’d thought that maybe because she was his real daughter, he wouldn’t touch her, I’d never been more wrong.

His heavy frame covered her tiny body. I was faced with his bare back as he held her down. Her long legs ending with pink toenails peeked out from beneath him. I couldn’t see his hands, but I knew he was covering her mouth. Her screams were muffled. I remembered the taste of his salty palm against my lips.

I wanted to scream for her, but my vocal chords felt broken and no sound came from my opened mouth. On their own, my legs moved me. I felt myself leaving the room and walking down the hallway. I took the stairs and somehow managed to keep myself from falling down them. I was in shock and my body felt foreign.

The doorknob to my father’s office felt cold against my heated palm. I knew where the key to his lockbox was hidden. I could remember going down there many nights and contemplating ending all the pain. I could remember unlocking the lockbox and holding the cold steel against my palm. It felt just the same in my palm now as it did all those many nights ago.

It was like I watched someone else’s movements, like a movie on the big screen, as I worked my way out of the office and back up the stairs. I was so far away from everything that nothing I did felt real. The stairs didn’t feel real, the hallway floor didn’t feel real, and when I stepped back into my sister’s room, that definitely didn’t feel real. But it was; everything I did was real. Everything I saw was real.

I stood there for a minute as he started to rip at her nightgown. He released her mouth to use both his hands and her soft cries reached my ears. They didn’t last long and I got a glimpse of her face and closed eyes as he shifted on top of her. She had passed out from fear. I could remember doing the same when I was young. I remembered waking up with my clothes all skewed and knowing my body was different somehow.

All of a sudden, I was back in control of myself. I felt the weight of the gun in my hand as I lifted my arm and pointed it at his back. Ten years of my life came crashing into me. The memories of his body on top of mine, his intrusion, his smell, and the way he sounded—all of it invaded my mind at once. It gave me all the determination I needed and in that moment I knew I was going to pull the trigger if it meant keeping Sidney from going through the same.

The force of the gun kicked my hand up. The sound was so loud it blocked out my hearing for a few seconds until all I could hear was the loud constant beep and buzz of my ears ringing.

His body jerked and he turned with wide eyes. Standing, his full naked body faced me and I felt nauseated by his nudity. He reached back and grabbed his back before bringing his bloodied hand around for inspection. I had indeed hit my mark, but now that I had, I wasn’t satisfied that he was still walking. If he was still walking, then that meant he could still perform. If he could still perform, then that meant Sydney still wasn’t safe. As long as he was breathing I could never be whole and she’d never be safe.

I matched his stare as I once again lifted the gun and aimed for his chest. It would only be the second time I shot a gun in my life and I’d be sure I didn’t miss. I squeezed the trigger once more and again my hand jerked up. His body crumpled to the floor in a mass of blood and naked flesh. I looked over at Sydney who was thankfully still unconscious. There was blood spatter on her pretty face and covering her pink bedding.

My tunneled senses expanded and once again I could take in everything around me. The popping in my ears remained, but now the beating of my heart was added to the sounds around me. The smell of sweat and blood filled my nostrils and the taste of bile filled the back of my throat as I felt myself getting sick. All those things slammed into me all at once and yet I felt so much lighter, as if a thousand-pound weight had been lifted from my chest.

I stepped up closer to his bloodied body and while I knew I should’ve felt sadness by the fact that I was probably going to spend the rest of my days in prison, all I could think about was how free I was going to be for the rest of my life.

“Snowflake,” Zeke whispered from behind me.

I swung around and he put his hands up like he was afraid I was going to shoot him. His eyes were wide as he stared back at me. Soon, Finn and Tiny were standing behind him, looking into the room. The three of them surround me as Zeke slowly reached in and slid the gun from my hand.

“Oh my God, what did you do, Patience?”

Words were stuck in the back of my throat and I had to push them out. My voice sounded like it was a million miles away. “He was hurting Syd.”

His eyes looked past me and took in my sister’s unconscious body and my dad’s dead one. Then his dark eyes crashed into me and a shadowy, sad expression covered his face.

“Finn,” he called over his shoulder. His eyes never left mine.

Finn’s white face appeared next to Zeke. “Yeah, man?” His voice shook.

“You’re my boy, right? You’d do anything I asked you to do, no questions asked?” Zeke asked.

Finn swallowed hard, then shook his head yes. “Yeah, dude, I got you. Whatever we need to do. Let’s do it and get the f*ck out of here.”

Zeke reached out and ran his finger down the side of my cheek. His eyes filled with tears as he leaned in and softly kissed me. “Take Patience and leave,” he said sternly.

“Zeke, don’t do this man. You’re going to ruin your life,” Finn said with wild eyes.

Zeke shot him a final look and Finn held up his hands and shook his head.

“If this is what you want,” he said with finality.

My head whipped back and forth between the two until finally it sunk in. Zeke was going to try and take the blame.

“No!” I screamed out when Finn grabbed my arm.

I tried to pull away, but then Tiny was next to me, pulling me as well.

“I’ll tell them the truth. I’ll tell them I did this. Please, Zeke, don’t do this,” I called out as I struggled against their tight hold.

They pulled me away from him and my feet dragged across my sister’s pink carpeting.

“Who do you think they’ll believe?” Zeke asked. “A guy like me from the wrong side of the tracks who’s already been to jail? Or you, the governor’s daughter who’s stupid enough to try and protect her boyfriend from prison?”

I grabbed the doorframe as Finn and Tiny pulled at my body.

“No!” I screamed out once more.

He was right. It didn’t matter what I said. If he confessed and told them I was only confessing to save him, the cops would definitely believe him. Again, our backgrounds were biting me in the ass.

My fingers were turning purple as I gripped onto the doorframe. His eyes burned into mine and a single tear fell down his cheek. He sniffed once and wiped it away with the back of the hand that was still holding the gun.

“I love you, snowflake. Always.”

Finn pulled one last hard time and my fingers slipped away from the doorframe. I screamed, not caring who heard me as they pulled me down the hallway, then down the stairs.