Silent Is The Heart

Prologue

Easton

“Mom… talk to me.”

Only the rattle of the car engine and the tires crushing the snow answer my anxious plea. She looks bad, so bad. He turned her face into a bloody melted wax figurine this time, completely destroying the image I associate with all things good in this godforsaken world.

Why did she hide the money in the trailer? I should have never gone over to Ben’s place. I could have stopped him.

The old Dodge jerks into another slide on a patch of ice. I think my diaphragm is broken from his sucker punch, seizing my breath as I grip the steering wheel.

This is crazy. No one in their right mind would be on the road tonight. There aren’t even any snow plows out. It’s not like I have a choice, though. Staying at the trailer and waiting for Leonard to finish the job wasn’t an option. The prick. The fucking prick. It’s quicker to say Dad , but that word has never given me the same satisfaction.

I don’t even know where the edge of the road is, so I hope to hell the fading tire tracks in front of me don’t lead me astray.

Blinking doesn’t help clear my vision. The big fat flakes are coming at us like warp speed in a spaceship. It would help if my right eye wasn’t swollen shut. And it really would help if that fucking bastard hadn’t shot the only person in this world who matters to me.

“Mom?”

The word comes out garbled and broken, tears stinging my open eye. I’m supposed to be strong for her, the way she’s always strong for me, but I need to hear her voice. I need to know I’m not alone.

There’s so much blood. The kitchen towel pressed to the side of her head is no longer white. Her golden hair is saturated and plastered to her cheek.

A moan. Just a soft one. It was barely a breath through her swollen lips, but it was a sound.

She’s still with me. He didn’t take her from me. We still have a chance.

I don’t care that he found the money. It was such a pathetic amount, anyway. Between the bills and this worthless car that rarely runs, my grocery bagging and her house cleaning jobs left little to squirrel away. It took so long to convince her to leave once and for all, and now it was all for nothing. I’ve been living on false hope for months.

We should have just gotten in the car the last time he was gone on his trucking route and drove until the car gave out. We could have slept in it and gotten jobs wherever it died. Anything would be better than this.

“We’re not going back,” I warn adamantly, but that, too, comes out sounding like the frail voice of a frightened child. “I don’t care about school. I’m getting a job, and I’ll take care of you, but we’re not going back. We’ll be fine. I promise.”

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. I’m in charge now. Things are going to be different. I’m freezing, shaking so bad my teeth are clacking together. I don’t have a coat. We don’t have a dime between us, but I don’t care. We’re going to make it to the hospital. They’ll help her. And Leonard Bennick can burn in hell. If he doesn’t, I don’t understand why I was born.