Swear on This Life

“I’m so in love with you.” His eyes were pleading. He was starting to look pretty rough after two days without a shower, and his worry made him seem older than fifteen. His longish brown hair was going every which way, and his eyes were bloodshot.

“I’m going to be okay, Jax. We’re going to be okay, and I love you too. When you get your license, you can come and see me.”

Near my hospital bed, he put his hand on my cheek. I winced. “I can’t believe he did this to you. Why was it so different this time?”

“I don’t know. Don’t worry about me, okay? I’m gonna be good . . . better. Only a couple of years and we can go to California. We’ll be together and we can go to college and you can finish writing your book and we’ll get a cat.”

He laughed. “I like dogs.”

“We’ll get a cat and a dog.”

“You swear?”

“I promise you, Jackson. That means more than swearing.”

“I’m gonna hold you to it. I’ll come and find you and make you keep your word.”

“You won’t have to,” I told him.

Paula, my social worker from CPS, came into the room. “Hi, Emerson. Hi, Jax. Before we leave, Emerson, you’ll need to sit down with the detective from the police department. I can be in there as your advocate. They’ll need a brief statement from you. Your father has pleaded guilty, so you won’t have to testify, but you do have to give a statement.”

“Okay.”

After I met with members of the police department, Jax and I went to the front, where his mom was waiting in her old car. She only waved at me; she didn’t even bother getting out. I wondered why.

“What’s with your mom?”

“I don’t know. Don’t worry about her.”

“Did she say anything to you when you called her this morning?” He shook his head. “Tell me, Jackson, please.”

He sighed. “She was worried that being involved with this stuff with your dad was gonna get me into trouble—jeopardize college and stuff. You know how she’s banking on me to take care of her, right?” He rolled his eyes.

“You did an amazing thing. Please do not let her make you feel bad about it. You’re a hero.”

He reached down and ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “I think you’re the hero, Em. You’re so strong . . . fearless.”

“I’m a huge wimp. Remember when you found that big brown spider in the shed?”

“You’re right. You’re a huge wimp, but only when it comes to spiders.”

Paula pulled up in her car and waited for Jax and me to say good-bye.

“I am so grateful to have you in my life, Jackson. You keep saving me over and over.”

He smiled, his eyes watery. “Being on that stupid road without you is gonna suck.”

“Keep telling yourself that it won’t be for very long.”

“You’ll call me every day, right?”

“I’m gonna try. It’s only New Clayton. It’s not even that far. Think she’ll let you use the car when you get your license?”

He glanced over to Leila. “Come on, Jax, I gotta get to work!” she yelled.

“Probably not. God, I’m so frustrated, Em. I don’t want to leave you.”

“Don’t stress, okay? We’ll figure it out. Maybe Paula will help. She really likes you.”

I ran my palm down his cheek. There was pain in his sweet, tender eyes. “I love you, Jackson, and you love me. That’s all that matters.”

He nodded and then leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. When I closed my eyes, I felt a tear hit my cheek, and then he was gone. Right before his mother pulled away, he looked up through the passenger window, kissed his hand, and waved. I did the same.





6. It Was All True


I closed the book and took a deep breath. So far, almost everything Jase had written was accurate. Unbelievably, he had nailed every moment of that fateful night, right down to my complicated feelings. There were only a few subtle differences. My father was more of a sloppy drunk than an angry one, and “the whiskey monster” was Jase’s name for him, not mine. My dad was verbally abusive and neglectful, but he was rarely physically violent, with the exception of the few times he lost control. But nothing compared to that last night I lived under his roof.

That night changed my whole life, and it was the main reason I refused to look backward. But whenever I had been forced to talk about it during therapy sessions, I always got lost in my own memories and feelings. I never really thought about how Jase had felt in that situation, how that night might’ve impacted him deep down inside. But clearly, it had. It did. I wondered if writing those scenes was somehow cathartic for him.

Renee Carlino's books