I briefly close my eyes, and feel a tear run down the side of my face, soaking into my hair.
“I don’t remember much after that. I just remember hearing my mom screaming for help. Then the next thing I knew your dad was beside me, and I could hear the sirens coming, and your dad just kept saying, over and over, ‘I’m so sorry, Jake. I’m so sorry I didn’t stop this from happening to you.’ ”
Tears are streaming down my face now.
“Afterwards at the hospital they told me I had hit my head hard from the fall. I had a concussion, had broken my arm and my jaw, and had cut my chin open, and I’d had to have stitches.” His hand goes to his chin, touching his scar.
He looks so young in this moment, and I wish I knew how to fix things for him. To somehow take his pain away forever.
Jake puts his palms to his eyes for a moment. I know he’s pushing back whatever emotion is in there.
I wipe my face dry with my hands.
That’s the first time Jake has ever spoken to me properly about what happened that night. I knew bits and pieces, but I didn’t know Paul had tried to rape Susie. That part was kept from me by my folks for obvious reasons.
Paul went to prison for what he did to Jake and Susie. Eight years he got. Eight measly years. I know, ridiculous huh? Throw your kid down a flight of stairs and nearly kill him, beat and almost rape your wife, and here you go, we’ll give you eight years in HMS’s finest with the chance of early parole.
“What did Paul die of?” I ask quietly.
I hadn’t plucked up the courage to ask Jake what Paul died of in these last few days. He’s been so closed off and I didn’t want to push things for him.
Whatever it was he did die of, I hope he somehow suffered after what he did to Jake and Susie.
“A heart-attack,” Jake answers quietly. “He’d been dead for five days before anyone found him. It was a neighbour who alerted the police when they hadn’t seen him for a while.”
“Had you heard anything from him over the years?”
Sighing, he takes my hand in his and brings it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles.
“After he went to jail, he was clean for a while, and he was writing me asking me to forgive him, but I never replied. Then we moved to the States with Dale, and I didn’t hear anything until I was twenty-two and the band was flying high. He got in touch with me through Stuart. I don’t how he got hold of his number but he did. It took me a week before I called him back. I had all these things ready that I was going to say to him. I was going to tear him a shred – and you know what?” he snorts. “The second I heard his voice, I felt like that nine year old kid again. I felt so fuckin’ weak in that moment, and I fuckin’ blew it.”
I rest up on my elbow. Looking down into his eyes, I brush his hair off his forehead. “It doesn’t make you weak, baby, it makes you human.”
He shakes his head. “I was weak, Tru. I didn’t say a goddamn thing to him about what he’d done to me and mom. And the worst thing was, he hadn’t got in touch because he wanted to apologise for what he’d done, or to even see me – he called because he needed money.”
In this moment, I hate Paul. I can feel the anger bubbling under my skin.
“Did you give him it?” I ask, chewing on the inside of my mouth.
I already know the answer, because I know Jake.
He sighs. “My lawyer sent him a non-disclosure saying that he could never talk about me or my past and what had happened. That he could never make claim to be my dad in the press, or to anyone ever. If he signed he could have the money.”
“Did he sign?”
He looks at me. “There was a two hundred thousand dollar check sitting at the bottom of it, so yeah, he signed.”
“You gave him two hundred thousand dollars?” I gasp.
“It’s nothing to me, Tru. And if it meant keeping him and that part of my life away from me, then it was more than worth it. I knew the money wouldn’t last him long though. He always could burn through money quick. He liked drugs … just like I do. I guess it’s true what they say – the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” He rolls his eyes in on himself.
I grab his face, turning him to look me. “You are nothing like him, Jake – nothing. And you never could be.”
He doesn’t look so sure.
“I am, Tru. I know you won’t want to see it – I know you want to see the good in me, and I love you for that, more than you could ever know … but I am like him – a lot like him. I would never hurt you – I could never hurt you.” He touches my face. “But the drugs and the booze … and the women,” he sighs. “I’m exactly like him. My mom knows it too.”
“She said that?” I gasp.
He shakes his head, no. “She doesn’t have to. I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me – the disappointment, just how much I remind her of him.”