Chapter 9 A promise and a threat
A promise and a threat
Aurora
Maybe if I wasn’t barely holding it together for the past half an hour, I’d allow the anger that arrogant hockey player stirred up take over me, but I am barely holding it together.
Ever since my dad’s nurse called that my brother showed up along with a few of his buddies. High off his ass. They were causing a ruckus outside the house, and I knew I needed to get home before things escalated. And they would escalate. I just hoped I’d get there in time.
My grip on the steering wheel tightens.
No, I don’t have the mental capacity to worry about what Severin Minaev thinks about me.
Lies. The words ring in the back of my mind and I promptly stuff it in its spot. Now’s not the time.
“Mom, did you see that last goal I scored? Mr. Brick didn’t even see it coming.” Emett jumps up in his car seat, giggling happily, and one small notch of tension releases its hold on me.
My son had a great day. He got to experience his small dream coming true, and no matter what awaits me at home right now or the silent judgment I saw in Severin’s eyes earlier, it was worth it. And if I have to do it again and again, I will. Because I’ll never take those dreams away from my son.
It’s bad enough mine never resembled anything close to normal.
Most kids have dreamed of fairy tale love, Tom Sawyer kind of adventures, or going to a fancy college.
Me? I wanted an average-paying job because those were the safe kind.
I wanted a small apartment in my small town because it’d be easier to pay for in case I lost my average-paying job.
I hadn’t dared dream of love because it was utterly unfair, and therefore, not safe.
And, well, I generally didn’t do dreams at all, or if I did, they were so outrageous, so insane, there was no way of them ever becoming a reality.
They lived inside my head and there was safety in that.
It was comforting to sneak in there, live in my made-up world and come back to my rusty reality.
“I saw, baby. You were an absolute star!” I smile in the rearview mirror and see his toothy grin in return.
A grin that turns a little sheepish as he whispers, “I think he let me win.”
“I don’t know…you might’ve been too good for him.”
Emett giggles.
“Nope, he totally let me win. You know how good he is? He’s the bestest, Mommy!” My son heaves out a sigh that’ll put grown adults to shame. “I so wish he could be your boyfriend! I could play with him every day.”
My son…the local matchmaker.
“Okay, buddy, that’s enough with that. I don’t need a boyfriend, and you need to stop asking random people to be that.”
“I’ll try,” he drawls. “But no promises. Someone needs to take care of you.”
I roll my lips to trap my laugh. This kid…
“Why did we have to leave so early? Is everything okay with Grandpa? Is he in pain again?” Emett’s tone loses its lightheartedness.
And this, this right here, is why I’ll never take his dreams away.
Because he already lives in this fucked-up reality where he knows what kind of pain exists in life.
He knows what it means to not have enough money for the most basic things.
He knows to hide his hockey gear from his junkie uncle. And there’ll be more. So much more.
“It’s actually Uncle Aaron. He showed up again.” I tell Emett the truth no matter how much I wish I didn’t have to, but he already knows the drill. He knows he’ll need to stay locked in the car until I come get him.
“Oh.” His little face falls. “Is he stealing something else from us?”
“I don’t know, bud. I hope not, maybe it’s a good visit this time.” I manage a weak smile. One I’ll never believe myself but while I’m not going to lie to my son, I am not opposed to giving him a bit of hope. “But still, please stay in the car until we know for sure, okay?”
Emett nods but his young eyes are filled with fury. Yeah, he’s not buying my crappy attempts at “hope.”
“I can’t wait until I grow up and can kick his butt.”
“Emett!”
“We should call Mr. Brick! I bet he could kick his butt!” Oh, Jesus…
“No, we shouldn’t.”
“Why is he such a bad person, Mommy?”
“I don’t know, baby.”
“But you’re good. You’re the bestest of them all, and he’s your brother…shouldn’t he be good too? If I have a brother, will he be bad too?”
My heart squeezes with an empty ache. A reminder of yet another one of my failures as a mother because I don’t see myself opening my beat up and battered heart to a possibility of a real family.
Of more children. Something we already spoke about with Emett, but like I said earlier, he can be pretty relentless when he wants something.
“Remember how I told you there’s good and evil in this world?”
He nods. “Mm-hmm, you told me we get to choose who we want to be.”
“That’s right, we do. Unfortunately, your uncle chose the evil. He took one step into that dark side, and then another, and one more, and he kept going until it swallowed him whole.”
“Can he come out?”
“Yes, there’s always a way out, Emett. No matter how dark it seems, if you want to find the light, you will.”
Before he can respond, our old and battered, farm-style house appears down the long driveway. Before we even park, I noticed they’d moved inside already and spot the broken window in the living room. God, I hope Betsy, Dad’s nurse, is all right.
“He’s not here for a happy visit, is he?” Emett asks quietly, and I sigh.
“No, buddy, it doesn’t appear so. Please, do not come out, okay?” I turn around to look at him, and he gives me a wobbly nod.
“Sissy!” Aaron croons, walking out of the house as soon as I shut my door, locking it. “I’ve been waiting for you.” His jet-black hair he inherited from our mother slick with dirt and grease and only a thin circle of green is visible against his blown pupils.
“What for?” I desperately want to run in the house and make sure Dad and Betsy are all right, but I can’t—not while he’s blocking my way.
My brother is just four years older than me but the lifestyle he leads took its toll on his body that now resembles someone in his late fifties instead of the twenty-eight he just turned. He’s also clearly very intoxicated but at least he’s in good spirits.
I wonder what the mighty Severin would’ve thought of this when just my old car seemed to offend him greatly.
“Well, that didn’t sound too sisterly, did it?”
“What are you doing here, Aaron?”
“Fineee, straight to business it is. I need money.”
I take a deep, steadying breath, already knowing this will go down to shit in point two seconds.
Damn it, I should’ve called the cops before I got out of the car.
“Aaron, I just gave you some money last week.”
“Well, that was last week, and this week I need more.”
“Even if I’d want to give you some, I don’t have any.” His drunkenly playful features morph into a grimace.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, sissy.” Aaron takes a step off our rickety old porch. The weathered wood creaking painfully under his weight.
“Look around you, Aaron, I’m not exactly rolling in cash now, am I?”
“She thinks I’m an idiot.” He turns around as his druggie buddies step out of the house.
“Come on, baby girl, just give Aaron here what you owe him, and we’ll get out of your hair,” one of them—the jumpy one—says.
“I don’t know, I quite like the scenery. Maybe we can stay a while longer.” The other one rakes his lewd gaze over my body making me sneer in response.
“I don’t owe him anything and you’re not welcome here. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re trespassing.”
“Don’t you?” Aaron’s hand appears out of nowhere as he grabs a handful of my hair, pulling my face toward his. The soft crunching of snow and the bitter cold biting my skin a welcome distraction from the present.
His skin seeps with whatever cheap alcohol he drank last night, and I can barely hold in the gag. I can’t show he affects me in any way. It would just make things so much worse. Trust me, I’ve tried that route before.
“You owe me fucking everything, Aurora! You stole everything from me!” he screams into my face, his spit flying in every direction as his eyes take on that crazed look.
“Aaron, please, let go of me. I help you as much as I can. I really don’t have any money right now.”
“Fine, you don’t want to do this the nice way, I guess I’ll take what I need myself. Guys, hold my bitch sister,” he calls out, and my heart starts racing.
I start thrashing against Aaron’s hold on my hair, trying to wiggle out before his goons come over but my brother has my hair in a death grip, his addiction fueling every ounce of power he’s got.
The long, thin scar on my chest tingles as the heart behind it rams harder and harder against it.
It wasn’t supposed to be there, it knows it wasn’t supposed to be there, and every time it’s looking for an escape from my shitty life.
Stay calm, Aurora. Emett is in the car; you need to stay calm and get out of this situation.
“Aaron! Do not touch me!”
“Give me the money!”
“I don’t have any!” I scream back just as four strong hands wrap around my arms.
“Stay away from my mom!” I hear Emett cry out just as I stomp the heels of my feet against my brother’s friends’ who are now holding me as Aaron paws all over my clothes, looking for any cash.
“Oh, look, the little rat is here too!” My son’s presence doesn’t bother his uncle in the slightest.
“Emett, get back in the car right now!” I shout.
Somewhere from inside the house I hear soft thuds, like someone is banging on the door.
“Aaron, stop it! Let go!”
But of course, he doesn’t. The bastard doesn’t even care that I’m his sister, pawing over my whole body—every part of me…and if I wanted to gag before, it’s nothing comparing to the nausea swirling in my stomach now.
But I’d take that every time over hearing my baby boy cry in the background. Cry and scream for these idiots to let his mother go. He doesn’t deserve to see this. He doesn’t deserve to live like this, and I get lost in fighting them off.