Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
THE HEATHEN
Isit on the big white rock with my hands under my thighs, and Carter sits beside me, both of us staring out at the water.
“Our father was a terrible man. He met my mom when she was a showgirl in Vegas. Long story short, he was violent with her. When she found out she was pregnant, she took off, not just for her life, but ours.”
Carter picks up a stone and tosses it into the water as he continues.
“We moved around a lot because he kept finding us. Finally, we were living in the mountains of Virginia, on a street with almost zero traffic. There had been no sign of him for months. My mom let her guard down. We were outside playing, and armed men surrounded us.”
I cover my mouth in horror as I gasp, “Your mother?”
He quickly shakes his head, abolishing any thoughts I had of the men harming her.
“We were three years old. One of the men scooped me up into his arms, looked at my mother and said, ‘He will pay the debt you owe’. I was little and didn’t know what he meant.”
I can’t help the tears that fall from my eyes as he tells me about the poor, helpless little boy he was.
“I’ll save you most of the details, but I was tortured and beaten bloody for two very long years, before I was left on the doorstep for her to find.”
“Carter,” I gasp, physically feeling his pain in my tightening chest.
He gazes at me and admits, “They kept asking what had been done to me, but I couldn’t tell them because I was too afraid to speak. And I didn’t speak a single word for six years. I screamed a lot, especially when someone touched me, but I couldn't form the words.”
I swipe at the tears on my cheeks and ask, “So you couldn’t tell them you didn’t want to be touched?”
He shakes his head, as if he’s trying to rid his brain of the painful memories.
“I couldn’t. Not even to my brothers. I was locked inside a prison my mind created.
Looking back now, I think it was the only thing I could control.
I was in the hospital for five months and wasn’t expected to survive.
The doctors and nurses kept touching me, my mother too.
And I understand now that’s what she needed to do for her own sake, and I’m sure she thought she was comforting me.
It's a normal human response, but for me, it was fucking torture.”
“Are you close to her now?”
I spot a tear rolling down his cheek, and I have to physically fight myself to not throw my arms around him.
Carter takes a deep breath before answering me, skipping another rock across the water. “No. On our seventeenth birthday, we walked into the house after playing basketball with our friends, and found her hanging from the ceiling fan in her bedroom.”
“Holy shit, she committed suicide?” I ask, in disbelief.
Again, he shakes his head.
“No. He hung her, and then sliced her open from head to toe.”
The sobs overwhelm me, as I imagine three teenage boys finding their mother like that.
“Keep your hands where they are,” Carter instructs through a knot in his throat.
I do as he said, and he wraps his arms around me as I sit, frozen.
“Can I put my head on your shoulder?” I whisper.
”Please,” he chokes out. My heart sinks, because he sounds so broken.
I lay my head on his shoulder and inhale his woodsy scent as butterflies begin to swirl in my stomach.
“I’m sorry you went through that. Maybe one day, you’ll let me try to touch you.”
“No,” he growls, ripping himself away from me. He begins to pace in front of me as he spits out his reasoning.
“The last woman that touched me is dead. I’m the one who told her to touch me.
I wanted to face my fears and overcome them.
She did nothing other than what I asked of her, and I lost my mind.
I killed her.” He roughly runs his hand over his hair, clearly frustrated with himself.
“It wasn’t intentional. Well, it was, but I have no recollection of it.
After blacking out, I came to, standing over her dead body.
I will not risk that with you. If you need to touch, you have Knox.
Please, Little Heathen, don’t ever trust me that much.
I won’t want to, but I will hurt you. And it will fucking kill me, if I ever lay a finger on you in anger. ”
“You are not a monster, Carter.”
He kneels in front of me before glancing to make sure my hands are still secured. He swallows hard and presses his forehead to mine.
“Oh, but I am, Little Heathen. In fact, I’m much worse.
A monster knows when he’s going to destroy someone.
I don’t, and still, it happens anyway. I am an uncontrolled nightmare.
More fucked up than you can begin to imagine.
I’d never knowingly hurt you, but if I ever ask you to touch me, please, say no. ”
I don’t argue with him, even though I don’t believe he’d hurt me, let alone kill me. What he went through is terrible and would leave scars on anyone. No one would make it through that unscathed.
Knox asked me if I like to live dangerously, and maybe I do, because if Carter ever asks me to touch him, I will. I would risk pain to heal him.
“Thank you for telling me, Carter. I know that wasn’t easy.”
He sits back on his heels and blows out a long breath, then nods.
“I can’t talk about the specifics. It’s too much, but I wanted you to understand why I’m so fucked up.”
I flash him a soft smile.
“Killian is the monster of the family as far as I’m concerned. You’ve been kind to me. Mostly.”
Rising from the ground, Carter says, “Let me tell you about Killian while we walk back.”
I get up and grab my backpack, shoving my supplies inside. Shampoo, conditioner, and my extra crosses that were in my pocket. Following beside Carter, I wait for him to speak.
“He has always acted like a father, or an older brother, even though we’re obviously all the same age.
When we found our mom, Knox and I fell apart.
We started drinking a lot and got arrested a few times.
It was bad. Killian is what saved us. I know he’s been a dick to you, and you have no reason to like him, but he’s always been our anchor.
I hope, at some point, he’ll show you the real man he is, because what you’ve seen so far isn't it. Right now, all he sees when he looks at you is a threat to our family, and hopefully one day, he’ll realize he’s wrong. ”
We walk into the house, and Killian stands with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Oh good, she’s still alive,” he quips sarcastically, before he turns and walks away.
I open my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but Carter stops me.
“Behave, Little Heathen. Poking the angry bear won’t get you anywhere.”