Chapter Eleven
Morning light filters in through a small crack in curtains I don’t recognize. The bed is unfamiliar too; the colors of the walls… I thought I had maybe dreamed what I did last night, a hallucination brought on by being with Calvin a minute too long.
But I didn’t make it up.
I made it out. I ran away.
I saved myself.
My whole body aches, my cheek burns, the skin around the cut on my cheekbone feeling tight and puffy. My feet don’t feel as bad as I thought they would. Small wins and all.
Beyond the closed door, I can hear voices, childlike, a sweet laugh that has me moving toward the door.
Slowly, I turn the handle and open it a crack, peering out toward the living room at the front of the house.
I spot blonde pigtails held up by bright pink bows, and next to the little girl, a young boy is watching her with eyes I have looked into before.
“There she is,” the same woman from the night before comes into view, her smile sinking dimples into her cheeks.
I wet my lips and pull the door open wider, tugging on the hem of my shirt to bring it down to cover my shorts.
I’m going to need to figure out the clothing situation pretty quickly, but I’m not sure how I’m going to manage that with no money.
That’s a problem I’ll have to tackle sooner rather than later, just not now when the two kids are staring at me along with Niamh. Silas steps away from the kitchen, his eyes dragging down me from behind his sister-in-law.
“Here,” Niamh grabs a small duffel from beside the couch, coming toward me, “Silas said you had to leave with nothing.”
I look toward my battered feet.
“Hey,” she touches my arm, “No, it’s okay. Should we go check that these all fit?” She glances behind me where I am still lingering in the threshold and I step back, Niamh following me in.
She closes the door behind her with a soft click and crosses over to the bed, placing the duffel on the mattress to unzip it.
She pulls out several folded-up items of clothing, a mix of leggings, shorts, and dresses.
“I have shoes too,” she says with her back to me.
“But I’m not sure they’ll fit. What size are you? ”
“Seven,” I rasp, my throat clogging up with so much emotion I’m finding it hard to breathe. Niamh swings her gaze to me, her face softening. Why are these people being so nice to me?
“They’ll fit,” she remains by the bed, watching me, but there’s understanding on her face. She may not know my story, but I assume she’s made a guess.
“Are you sure?” I blink away the burning in my eyes.
“Absolutely,” she grins, sinking dimples into her cheeks, “But we can also go shopping for some things for you.”
“Oh,” I shake my head. “Yeah, I can’t do that.”
Before she can ask why, a knock sounds on the door, though neither of us moves to open it, and I realize she’s waiting for me to.
Springing into action so no one thinks I’m rude, I throw open the door, finding Silas on the other side.
I can still hear the kids arguing in the front room about what show they’re going to watch over breakfast.
“They’re settled for now,” Silas explains, but I’m not entirely sure who he is talking to.
“Want me to…?” Niamh hangs the question in the air.
“Do you mind?” Silas answers.
“Of course,” Niamh touches my arm gently as she heads out, her cheery voice sounding a moment later as she gets the kids to stop bickering with each other.
“Are you babysitting?” I ask.
A smile makes his lips twitch; it’s not a full smile by any means, just a slight tilt of his mouth, but it’s enough to have the corners of his eyes creasing.
“No, they’re mine.”
My eyes bug out, “Yours?”
“Rosie and Caleb,” he leans on the door frame and slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “Caleb is eight, almost nine, Rosie’s five.”
“Shit, Silas,” I rush out, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know! I wouldn’t have come if I had known!”
“Easy,” he soothes, “It’s okay.”
“What!?” I squeak. I didn’t even think about the fact that he could possibly have a whole family here! This was so fucking selfish of me. I should have thought about it more and made a better plan! “How is this okay? God, your wife must be furious.”
“There is no wife, Juni. It’s just me and them.”
“Oh.” That stops my train of thought.
“It’s a lot for you right now,” he remains in the doorway, keeping at least six feet between us.
Every line of his body is relaxed, which helps ease the anxiety rising inside of me.
I study his breathing for a moment, capture it and match it, allowing my own to slow to his steady pace.
“Take as much time as you want to. There’s food in the fridge, coffee and tea.
I asked Niamh if she had some things for you, but when you’re ready, we can go into town. ”
“I don’t have any money, Silas,” I meet his whiskey eyes.
“I will pay for it.”
“No,” the word rushes from me. “No, you can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You’ve already done enough, Silas,” I shift on my feet. “All of this is enough. I don’t want your money, too.”
His eyes search my face. “I know you don’t. We can just figure this out as we go along. How does that sound?”
“I promise I won’t stay long,” I tell him. “I just need to find my feet.”
“My offer remains, Juni. You can stay here as long as you need.”
When I say nothing, he releases a breath and pushes to stand, turning to head back to his children. “There’s fresh coffee out here, and some breakfast if you’re hungry, or I can bring you something if you’d like.”
“Can I get dressed?” I ask him out of habit, waiting for permission to be able to get ready for the day.
Cal liked to pick my outfits, which is why I had to ask so he could come select the items of clothing.
It was always jeans and blouses, even in the height of summer, but he preferred I didn’t show too much skin.
It didn’t matter that the jeans were practically painted on.
“Juni,” he frowns, “You don’t have to ask.”
“Right,” I shake my head. “Of course.”
“Take your time,” he says again. “If you want to shower, the bathroom is through this door.” He points to the door opposite this bedroom, “Just go through and you’ll find it on the left. There’s a toothbrush in there and Niamh grabbed some things you might need before she came over.”
“Okay,” I breathe, “Thank you.”
He nods and pulls the door closed, giving me some privacy.
For a long time, I remain standing in the middle of the room.
The bed is a mess from last night’s sleep, and now with all the clothes spread out across it, but it’s cozy.
The walls are an off-white color, but all the furniture is made of oak, and above the bed is a framed picture of the mountains.
A plush rug is at the end of the bed, soft under my feet as I walk over it to the windows and pull the curtains open.
My breath gets lodged in my throat as I take in the ranch now that it’s in the light.
Towering, craggy mountains stand stark against the bright blue sky, the highest peaks still tipped with snow.
The gray bleeds into lush green where the forests spill onto the ranch, the colors so vibrant against the rock and dotted with fields of wildflowers, each color blending into the next, I can’t focus on a single one.
It’s a kaleidoscope of life, almost overwhelming, but I can’t look away.
From here, I can just make out the larger farmhouse, a mix of wood and natural stone that looks as if it were plucked right off the side of the mountains themselves.
There’s just so much to see right in front of me.
Horses graze in pastures and cattle roam with their calves while men laugh as they work.
It’s hard not to compare this place to Scott Ranch; how different it is from just a glance.
It makes my feet itch to explore, excitement at the mere prospect of stepping out into that mountain air to get lost here making my heart skip a beat.
Cracking the window slightly, I let some of that into the room, feeling the light summer breeze brush against my skin as it sweeps in along with the sounds. Birds. Laughter. Horses.
Heading back to the bed, I pick a pair of shorts from the pile of clothes Niamh left along with a simple white T-shirt and the sneakers, opting for comfy since I’m not entirely sure what I am going to do today.
Cracking the door open, I look toward the front of the house, but it seems everyone is distracted, so I sneak across the hall to the bathroom Silas showed me earlier, only it isn’t a bathroom at all.
It’s his bedroom.
His scent is heavy in here, that citrus and leather smell that makes my skin prickle and my blood warm.
It’s darker in here than the bedroom I was in, but no less cozy—more rustic with the mix of slate and stained wood, the sheets on the bed a gray to match the stone.
The walls are bare of any images, but a pair of antlers hang on the wall above the bed, and light streams in through the large open window, offering a view of a wild meadow.
I’m sure I heard him right when he said the bathroom was through this door, but then remember he said it was to the left. I spot the ensuite, the door left open to show white tiles and a large mirror above the counter.
It feels invasive to be in here, but I creep toward the bathroom, hitting the switch to turn on the light. It’s the right place. On the vanity is a spare toothbrush along with any and all toiletries I could need, plus fresh towels folded next to them.
This is all too much. What they are doing and how easy it is for them to do it. I’m waiting for the shoe to drop, maybe for Cal to show up and shatter the minute of peace I’ve managed to find.
Closing and locking the bathroom door behind me, I lift my eyes to the mirror and meet my reflection.
I’m not able to stifle the wince.
A bruise darkens the skin along my cheekbone, the cut in the middle of it still raw and tight. It’s a little puffy, but I can already feel the swelling has gone down a lot since last night, and the colors of the bruise have started to deepen, the shape forming around my eye.
Cal has a temper. He has always had a temper, but he’s never gotten physical with me. It was always the wall he hit, or he threw things - plates, glasses… I think I used that as an excuse not to leave, making myself believe it wasn’t as bad as it was. It could be worse.
It was a lie I told myself over and over.
I turn away from the mirror and twist the shower on, fiddling with the dials until it’s a good temperature, and then I grab the supplies and climb under the spray, giving myself a minute just to breathe.
It still feels surreal to be here, to be free of him and his abuse.
There is one thing I know for sure, though… I will never go back.
I choose myself.