10
Lia
“Is that a good idea? Are you sure about it?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?”
“Yeah, like, fifty percent.”
“That’s not pretty sure. That’s… passingly sure. Half-sure. You’re not closer to being sure than to not being sure.”
“Fine. Fifty-one percent.”
“Quill…”
“Please, Piper.” I cut into her squabble with Quill. “We need to do something. He’s unconscious and he’s lying in the dirt. We can’t just wrap him up with a bandage. We have to disinfect it first, and…”
“I just don’t remember anyone ever using gasoline to disinfect wounds in any of the mystery books I’ve read…”
Quill snorts. “That’s because Nancy Drew doesn’t do wounds.” He winds one of her curls around his fingers distractedly. “If she did, I’m pretty sure she’d use gas.”
“How the hell do you know?” huffs my daughter. “It’s not like you’ve ever read any Nancy Drew books!”
“Nancy Drew, hmm?” Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can’t help but smile at my little girl. “Is that what you read?”
“Uhm, a long time ago.” She blushes bright red, her splotchy face looking exactly like mine does when I get embarrassed. “Obviously, I read grown-up books now.”
“Uh huh.” Quill rolls his eyes. “Anyway, Lia. Gas or no gas?”
“Uhm…” I bite my lip, looking down at Logan.
Twenty-seven bones. The damage should have stopped at twenty-seven bones.
But it didn’t. I never stopped hurting him. Not until I disappeared. And In the short time since he’s found me, he’s been severely injured three times.
Now, Quill is asking me to make a decision when I haven’t made one in eighteen years. No—in my life. Have I ever really been free?
I don’t think I’d even know how to be free.
“I’m just gonna do it,” says Quill suddenly, and before either of us can stop him, he grabs the small container of gas he found in one of the bikes, and douses it over Logan.
“Ahhh!”
I gasp as Logan wakes up, yelling and sputtering. The yell turns into a cry of agony, and then he stumbles to his knees, clutching his side. I try to hug him, but he bats me away.
“Logan,” I whisper. “Logan, please… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…”
“Quill!” says my daughter shakily. “You hurt him!”
“Well, of course I did. It’s gasoline. What did you expect?”
“I didn’t expect you to suggest something that would hurt him so bad!”
Quill shrugs. “Whatever. He’ll be fine. Now what?”
I rest my head against Logan’s shoulder, thankful that he’s paused long enough in his thrashing to allow me to. I should have objected to the gas. I should have put a stop to it. I should have known.
“Quill, you’re such an asshole,” says Piper again. “He’s in so much pain!”
Thankfully, Logan’s groans stop, but it’s only because he’s passed out again.
“Yeah, well, maybe I was hoping to wake him up,” mutters Quill.
“How the fuck are we supposed to get to Belfast if he’s passed out?
I can’t drive all three of you on my bike.
It’s not a very long trip from here, but it’ll be a lot longer if we have to walk.
Even longer if I have to drag some helpless jerk, and… ”
“Stop, Quill. Maybe I can try driving that—”
“Fuck no, cricket. I don’t even trust you to walk. But maybe your mom can drive.”
“Yes.” Piper’s brow clears. “Yes. You know how to drive, don’t you? I seem to remember…” She pauses, unsure, and searches my face.
“Uhm…” I take a nervous step back. “That was a long time ago. A very long time ago. I haven’t driven a car since I was a teenager.”
“Okay, well, I guess you’ll have to,” says Piper. “It’s our only solution.”
“There’s another solution.” Quill presses her to him. “The other solution is ditching your parents.”
“That’s not going to happen!”
“It’ll happen if it needs to, cricket.” He kisses the top of her head. “I’m going to keep you safe no matter what.”
“He doesn’t mean that,” says Piper quickly. “We won’t abandon you. Mama… are you okay?”
I blink fast, trying to follow along. I don’t know which parts of my brain are foggy and which ones are simply struggling to get used to my daughter’s fast talking, after having spent so long locked up in a house with my quiet mother.
“I’m… fine.”
Quill. Piper. Logan. I stare at each in turn, committing their faces and their names to memory. I can feel my mind slipping.
“It’s okay, mama.” Piper sidles up to me, running her hand up and down my arm. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll go to Belfast, Logan will see a doctor, and…”
“It’s strange, hearing you call him Logan instead of papa, Jane.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I was—what did you call me?”
She looks surprised, and more than a little worried.
“What do you mean?” I ask. “I called you Piper. Or Aurora. Didn’t I? Sorry, I know you’re Piper now. I’ll keep calling you Piper. Sorry about that, baby.”
Piper stares at me, alarm taking the place of worry.
“It doesn’t matter,” says Quill. “Let’s go, cricket. Or we’re going to have a fuckload of bikers on our asses. Hey, Lia!” He snaps his fingers at me.
I’m losing it. Fuck, I’m losing it. And Piper and Quill’s reactions are making me realize just how bad it is.
“Let’s go,” insists Quill.
He grabs a still-unconscious Logan, toppling him over his shoulder without any ceremony.
“Please be gentle with him, Quill,” begs Piper. “He’s my dad.”
“Sure, cricket.”
The way Quill throws Logan down over the seat of the bike is the opposite of gentle. But I’m too nervous, right now, to protest.
How the hell am I supposed to drive this massive thing?
“How far are we from Belfast anyway?” asks Piper.
“Far enough that it doesn’t have to be a quickie. Not so far that it can be a… long-ie.”
“Quill!”
“Go in front, Lia,” suggests Quill. “That way I can shield you if we get chased by more bikers.”
“Right,” grumbles Piper, sitting down where Quill pats the seat. “That’s why you want us to go behind Lia.”
“Enough with the filthy mind, cricket. Okay, Lia?”
“Uhm…”
I stare at the bike, feeling overwhelmed. I guess it should be simple enough. There are the handlebars, the accelerator grip, the brakes. I know how to drive. I don’t remember ever driving a motorbike, but it feels familiar.
“Not the time to daydream,” says Quill. “Let’s go!”
Swallowing my nerves, I lift my leg over the bike, trying not to bump into Logan’s sprawled-over form. The seat is so high up that I barely reach the ground when I’m sitting on it. I rev up the engine, and it wobbles dangerously to one side.
“Careful, now,” warns Quill. “Try not to skin his other side.”
Fuck. Beads of sweat prick at the sides of my temples, but Quill honks at me, and I press on the gas handle in confusion. Before I know it, I’m jerking down the road.
“Not so fast!” he yells. “Look out!”
But suddenly, I want to go fast. I hold down the handle so hard my skin hurts. I’ve never gone so fast before. I’ve never felt so free.
In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt free at all.
_
“Are you going to listen now, sweetie?”
“Yes… papa.”
The sound of leather sliding through loops makes me heave out a sigh of relief. The punishment is over.
He went really hard this time. I don’t think there’s an inch of skin on my back that doesn’t hurt. I can tell some of the red stripes have broken, too. I’m probably going to need to stay in bed for a while after this.
But he’s leaving soon. I know he’s leaving, because from the corner of my eye, I see him prepare the syringe.
He always leaves after the injection.
“I wish… I wish you wouldn’t hit her so hard.” My mother’s tremulous voice reaches me.
“She needs to get those silly desires beaten straight out of her. Freedom. What does that even mean? Don’t I bring you whatever you want? Clothes, makeup, books. Everything you want, you get. What more could you possibly need?”
I don’t answer. My back hurts far too much, and the last thing I want is another session with that belt. And I know he has it in him to give it to me, too.
“She just wants to go out a bit,” pleads my mother.
“Well, I let her go to town, don’t I? At least I did. Not anymore. She’s lost that privilege now.”
“Papa…” I can’t keep the word from my mouth as I realize I’ve lost the tiny speck of freedom I’d gained.
I bite my lip when he turns around, then exhale when I see he’s holding the syringe. He’s planning to give it to me now—that means he won’t beat me. He never beats me after the injection.
“It’s your fault,” he tells me. “You lost your freedom, and you have only yourself to blame.”
_
“You’re going too fast, mama!” I hear Piper cry, and, returning to my senses, I slow down just a bit. But not enough that I lose that rush, that sense of pure freedom.
“I have no idea where to go,” I laugh, turning to Quill and Piper. “I have no fucking idea where to go. Should we just… drive? Does it matter?”
“Keep going,” says Quill. “We’re going in the right direction—south,” he adds.
I turn back around, focusing on the road. For the first time, I realize, I see what’s beyond those hills.
Steep, lush cliffs break the sky, and the sun ripples over the turquoise waves far below.
There are barely any houses around. Just occasional shacks here and there, and green, rolling hills as far as the eye can see.
I guess I should be nervous about those bikers, but all I can think of is that I’m free… finally free.
When Logan gets better, I know I won’t be free anymore. I’ll give my freedom over to him.
The thought fills me with sudden anguish.
I want him.
But I also want to be free.
At least, I’m pretty sure I do.