2. Seven #2
“Look at that,” my mother says. She rubs her brow. “All those manner lessons, in one ear and out the other.” She shakes her head and stands up. “Come on, baby. Back to the room. Only good boys get cake.”
I cast another desperate look at it. I won’t get this opportunity again. I get up, but I’m begging before I can stop myself, “Can I have one piece? Please? I’ll be good.”
“And the begging!” My mother makes another frustrated sound. “What did I tell you about the begging?”
That I only do it when they want me to beg for more.
“My decisions are final,” she says. “A family isn’t a democracy, baby.”
“I know, but—” I start to say.
Her cheeks flush with anger, and even though I cut myself off, it’s too late.
I wasn’t perfect like she wants me to be, and she’s going to punish me for it.
“I see you need a proper lesson.” My mother turns to Emily and my father. “Excuse us for a moment. Enjoy the cake, since Rory can’t manage to be good for a single day.”
I’m drowning in my thoughts, the despair threatening to take me down, and it’s so hard to follow her back to the room.
To my room.
But I don’t dare even miss a step, because that’ll upset her even more. I have to be quiet, to be careful, and even then…
Even then, it’s not enough.
It never is.
“You can stop,” Caleb says. His head is angled down, and the glasses mean I can’t see his eyes at all. “I’m sorry.”
Somewhere along the way, a familiar numbness had settled over me. I feel like I’m talking about a different person. “But you needed to know about her,” I tell him. “I haven’t told you all of it.”
“She whipped you, right?” Caleb says. “Thirty strokes.”
I startle, my breath catching in my throat. “How did you know? Did I tell you?”
Caleb chuckles darkly. “You always ask for thirty. It’s… thirty is too much for anyone, Seven. Especially a—a child.”
I can’t argue with him about that, but I want to. Even now, I want to defend her, and I say, “She didn’t do it that hard.”
Caleb’s hands clench into fists, then he pulls his glasses off to rub at his eyes. “She did it that hard, Seven. You have scars all over your back from where the whip cut your skin.”
I flinch, staring down at my lap. Nacho got down at some point while I was talking, and I wish he was still there. “I’m sorry,” I say automatically. “I can wear shirts?—”
“No. It isn’t your fault.” Caleb puts his glasses back on and sits back against the couch. He looks up, revealing his face to me.
I inhale sharply when I see that he’s crying.
“Caleb,” I whisper, somehow not feeling right about calling him Master right then, like I don’t think he’s going to take it well. “It’s okay. Please. It’s okay.”
I’m glad I told Havoc not to stay. If Caleb is this upset, Havoc would be murderous.
“I knew it was bad,” Caleb says. “But I compartmentalized it. But now I…” He looks at me. “Should I not do the things I do to you? Am I making things worse for you?”
“No!” I say quickly, grabbing for his hand and startling Miss K into jumping down. “No, please. Please, Master. I need it. I do.” I have to blink back my own tears. “I shouldn’t have told you. You’re going to think of me differently now.”
I should’ve known better.
“I don’t think differently of you,” Caleb says. He twines his fingers around mine and lifts my hand up. I watch as he kisses my knuckles, but it feels like they belong to someone else. “But I have never wanted to kill anyone as much as I want to kill Abigail Lockwood right now.”
I take in a deep breath, trying to shake the fugue the memories have put me in. “You can’t, though,” I say.
“Why can’t I?” Caleb asks. “Why can’t I simply invite her to a meeting and shoot her right there and then?” He laughs and shakes his head. “She’d never agree to a meeting, would she?”
“No.” I watch him. “She won’t trust you. She doesn’t trust anyone.” I feel a pang. “She might send Emily, but Emily… It’s not her fault.”
“That wouldn’t hold up in court,” Caleb says. His voice is still shaky, but he gives me a crooked smile. “The martial arts lawyers in your anime wouldn’t let your sister off the hook.”
“No,” I say more softly. “I’m sorry I made you cry.”
“Apparently I’m not quite as hardened as I thought I was.” Caleb sighs and lets go of my hand. “I have a meeting with my father later tonight. We’re going to brainstorm our strategy against the Lockwoods. I thought if I knew more about Abigail Lockwood, I’d have better ideas.”
So I told him that for nothing. All I did was change the way he looks at me — because no matter what he says, he is looking at me differently. It didn’t even help.
I look down again, the numbness threatening to turn into despair.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
“Do you want cake?” Caleb suddenly says. “I’ll call Vortex and Havoc and tell them to bring a slice of every cake we have on the menu.”
I startle. “What?” I ask before the words finally process. “No. I’m not allowed to have cake.”
Caleb glares at me through his tear-stained glasses. “Who’s your master, pet? Who decides what you can or can’t do?”
I squirm beneath his glare. “I got cake,” I tell him without looking at him. “It was the first thing I had… after I left.” I manage a weak smile. “It was so sweet, I got sick.”
“Let me guess, it had a thick layer of frosting on it, and it was dense on the inside.” Caleb shakes his head. “We have better cake than that here.” He reaches for his phone and starts tapping on it. “I’m having them bring cake. And whatever other food they want to bring.”
I grab his wrist. “Wait. You aren’t going to tell them, are you?” I ask, suddenly panicking. “Please don’t tell them.”
I can’t handle it if all three of them look at me differently.
I can’t.
“I won’t tell them,” Caleb says steadily. “It’s not for me to tell. And they’re both very aware that your mother is a cunt of the highest order.”
I swallow hard, releasing my grasp on him. “I… Okay. Just please, please, don’t treat me any different,” I plead with him. “I want the things we do, the things we have . I need them.”
“I’ll try.” Caleb smiles at me. “It turns out, somewhere inside my black void of a chest, I do have a heart.”
I manage a weak laugh. “Yeah. You kinda do. I could’ve told you that.” I move closer to him, resting my cheek against his shoulder. “I’m glad you made me stay.”
Caleb wraps his arm around me. “I knew if I let you go, you’d end up dead.
You were hitchhiking in the desert, of all things.
And poor Nacho didn’t deserve that.” He rests his head against mine.
“Then you had those scars, and I had to know who you were and how you ended up here and…” He sighs. “Absolutely sentimental.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I say. I nudge him in the side. “All because Nacho didn’t deserve it, huh?”
“I might be a cat person,” Caleb says. He kisses my forehead, right as somebody knocks on the door.
I tense, but it’s Vortex and Havoc.
“Is it somebody’s birthday?” Havoc asks as he sets the takeout containers on the kitchen table. “Why did we get all this cake?”
Vortex’s gaze goes from me to Caleb, and I get the feeling he knows more than he’s letting on. “Do we have to have a reason for cake?”
I could kiss him.
“It’s Vortex’s birthday,” Caleb says. He kisses me briefly, then stands up. “Sorry, my eyes have been irritating me all day. I’ll be right back. You can start without me.” He goes into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
Havoc glances at Vortex. “Is it seriously your birthday?”
“In two weeks,” Vortex says, starting to open some of the containers. “We got all different types.”
I glance after Caleb, wondering if I should go after him.
But Vortex and Havoc draw me in, and I let them. Vortex wraps an arm around me when I get close, pointing out the varieties.
I smile and laugh, but my thoughts linger on the memory I’d relayed to Caleb.
I just wish it hadn’t been for nothing.