CHAPTER THREE #2
One way or another, I was going to make that guy my friend.
Because he was nice, and he was big, and maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could scare Dad away for good.
***
His name was Soldier, which I thought was kinda weird, and he had a kitten named Eleven, which I thought was even weirder.
But what was weirdest was that, after we'd all become friends, he and Mom got close. Like, really close, and I knew they liked each other before they told me they were dating one day, after I came home from a sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa's house to find them in the kitchen.
Mom was in her robe, and Soldier wasn't wearing a shirt, and a gross feeling began to grow and grow in my stomach until I thought I would throw up.
Because I liked Soldier. He was cool, and he was my friend. But what if I was wrong about him? I mean, he'd been to jail—prison—and I still didn't really know why. What if he was one of the bad guys? What if he was worse than Dad? And if he was …
How could I save Mom from him?
I had a chance of hurting Dad, but Soldier?
He was huge, and he was strong, and if he wanted to, he could squash me like a freakin' bug!
But even worse than that, what if he hurt Mom?
I regretted ever talking to him. I regretted ever thinking we could be friends, and angrily, I stared at the plates of food they had cooked and wondered what I was going to do if I ever had to fight two men instead of the one I had needed to get rid of since I had been born.
“Hey.”
“What?”
I barely lifted my gaze toward him and stared at his bare chest, and it made me mad. Why wasn't he wearing a shirt? No, no, I knew why, and it made me feel even yuckier than I’d felt before, thinking about him and Mom doing … things together, things they’d taught us about in Health class.
He said a couple of stupid, awkward things about Grandma and Mom talking together in her room, and I grumbled answers I barely remembered saying because all I could think of was them in her bed, the bed I'd found her in years ago. Naked and bleeding and crying.
Had Soldier made her cry too?
“Hey, um … I hope you're okay with … you know … your mom and me. I just … I like her a lot. And we … I don't know if you know this, but we kinda go way back, and—”
I turned to him abruptly and asked, “Why wouldn't I be okay with you dating my mom?”
His face fell as he stammered, “I … well, um … I don't really know. I thought—”
“You should've told me,” I spit out, feeling lied to and betrayed and like there was more to this than he was letting on. “It wouldn't have made me mad. I dunno why you didn't just tell me.”
His throat shifted with a swallow. “I'm sorry, buddy.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled, dropping my gaze to look at the table. “You probably never wanted to be my friend anyway. You just wanted Mom.”
“Hey.” He headed toward me and dropped in the chair beside where I stood. “Look at me for a second.”
I dragged my gaze to his and frowned angrily.
“Even if your mom wasn't in the picture, I would still be your friend. You understand me?”
What a joke. “Yeah, right.”
“I'm serious right now, Noah. You were the first person in this town to really see me for who I am, and I will never forget that.”
I shrugged and rolled my eyes away.
“Man, you're the coolest kid I've ever known, and you're my best pal. Nothing's changing that, okay?”
Mom and Grandma were done talking, I guessed, because they walked down the hallway and announced they were ready to eat.
But I wasn't hungry. I couldn't think about eating when all I could do was picture big, strong Soldier doing the things Dad did to Mom.
Hitting her. Pushing her. Dragging her into the bedroom and making her cry and scream and beg until there was nothing but silence filling the house.
It made me sick, but more than that, it made me mad.
It made me scared.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked, oblivious to the crisis in my head. “Noah?”
“Nothing,” I barked as my hands shook.
I couldn't look at them anymore. I just couldn't.
What the hell am I going to do? I thought as I hurried into the living room, dropping onto the couch and holding my head in my hands.
And stupid Soldier followed.
He crouched in front of me and quietly said, “I'm not gonna hurt her. And I'm not gonna hurt you either.”
Startled, I looked up at him, finding his trustworthy gaze.
Can he read my mind? How did he know?
“You swear?”
He laid a hand over his heart and replied, “Buddy, you and your mom are the best things to happen in my life in a very, very long time—hell, maybe ever. And I swear I would rather die than hurt either of you.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “Good, ‘cause I-I don't think I could actually beat you up, but I'd try.”
He frowned then. “You try to fight for your mom?”
I barely nodded. “Sometimes.”
Honestly, it had been only a couple of times over the last few years since that time I'd found Mom in her room, but I tried. And every time, Dad used his hands on me before dragging Mom away, and he did it easily. He was too big, and I was too weak, but I’d tried!
“How ‘bout I teach you how to kick my ass?” Soldier asked. “Just in case.”
What? “You'd do that?” Hope struck a match in my gut, eating away at the yucky feeling from before, until all I was left with was gratitude.
There was a look in Soldier's eyes, one I couldn't read or understand. But he looked angry and determined and like he could truly kill someone … but I wasn't scared. Somehow, I knew that look wasn't meant for me.
“I told you I'd do anything to keep you guys safe, didn't I? And if that means teaching you to knock me on my ass, then you got it.”
I smiled then for the first time since coming home from Grandma and Grandpa's house. Because there were good guys and bad guys in this world, and I knew Soldier was one of the good ones, and he was true to his word.