Chapter Twenty-Three
I don’t look back when I walk to my car. And he doesn’t try to make me stay. He dropped his hand from my arm as soon as he saw my face.
I deliberately turn in my seat to reverse, not wanting to find Jonathan looking at me like I’m betraying him. Because the electric current in my stomach knows that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Running away.
As I begin to reverse, I spot the basket my mother made me promise to give to Samantha. The basket of towels and linens from her new collection that I complained was too embarrassing to give my boyfriend’s mother. I stop the car and stare at it. Can I leave it at the end of the driveway?
I can’t.
I put the car in park and brace myself. But when I open my door, Jonathan isn’t still there, looking at me like I stepped on his heart. He’s not anywhere.
I heft the monstrosity of a basket out of the back seat and walk toward the house. As I get closer, I hear raised voices coming from the garage. My steps slow.
The words are indistinguishable; the anger is not. So much anger. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle in warning when I take another step.
“Want me to take that?”
I jump and nearly drop the basket.
Ryan is in front of me. My attention was focused on the garage; I never saw him approaching. “I can bring that to my mom if you want?”
I nod and force a smile, handing it over. “Thanks.” A booming thud causes us both to turn toward the garage.
“They’re okay. They do that sometimes.” His words aren’t reassuring. Especially when his voice drifts until barely audible.
“Really?” I ask, my question sounding feeble to my own ears. Like there’s any possible way that anything about this is okay.
Ryan shrugs. “Thanks for… this.” He looks down at the rolled fabric, tied with bows. “You should go.”
Ryan looks back when he reaches the steps. Worry etches into his brow when he sees I haven’t moved. I raise my hand to gesture bye and start toward my car when a crash startles me.
I have to turn around.
I cannot walk away from this, no matter how normal this may be for this family. Or how much my body is trembling. I can’t do what my father asked of me; ignoring this is not who he raised me to be.
Making certain Ryan is already in the house, I cross the driveway to the garage, not knowing what I’ll do when I get there. But maybe my presence alone will make them stop—embarrassed into inaction.
When I near the door, I can see them through the window.
Jonathan’s back is to me, expanding and contracting with heavy breaths.
They’re clutching each other’s shirts, faces close.
Hal says something to him. He shifts his gaze over Jonathan’s shoulder.
I freeze. I think he may have spotted me.
He releases Jonathan and raises his hands, placating.
He takes a couple steps back. Still talking.
Jonathan swings his fist, smashing Hal in the jaw. His father falls back against the metal shelves. The sudden violence forces the air from my lungs. With a growl of rage, Jonathan pulls his elbow back for another strike. I spin away. I can’t watch.
I can’t be here. I cannot see this.
I run to my idling car and put it into drive as I’m closing the door.
I spin out in the driveway, accelerating in the turn.
I fumble with the seat belt as the car bounces down the dirt drive, leaving a cloud of dust in my rearview mirror.
I’m not careful along the bumps and divots as I was coming in.
The need to escape is so strong; nothing else matters.
Tears blur my vision, making it difficult to see where I’m going. I can’t catch my breath. Breathing is impossible.
What did I see? This can’t be real.
Within a few minutes, I’m pulling into Collin’s driveway and shoving the car into park.
I cover my face with shaking hands and begin to sob so hard that I’m breathless. My lungs cave in on themselves with each cry that races to the surface.
“Sadie? What happened, sweetheart?”
My door is open. Collin’s mom is crouched beside me. “Tell me what it is. Did something happen to you?”
The shock of seeing her sobers me. I shake my head, still unable to speak.
“Do you want me to call your dad?”
I shake my head again, swiping at the tears that won’t stop. “Can you tell me one thing? Did someone harm you?”
The worry in her eyes has my lip quivering. My mouth forms the word, “No.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Is… uh… ” I try again. “Is Collin… here?” I do not recognize my voice as it strains to form sounds.
“He’s at the garage.”
I nod. “Okay.” I swipe at my face again with the cuffs of my sweater. My eyes feel raw and swollen.
“I can’t let you leave like this,” Jane insists. “I need you to be calm before you drive.” I nod. “Breathe for me. Deep breaths.”
I nod again and try to even out my breathing as it quakes with every inhale. After a few rounds, it’s easier. The tears have slowed until I can nearly blink them away.
“Better?” she asks. I nod. Talking still takes too much effort.
“Thank you,” I manage to whisper.
“I’ll let him know you’re coming.” She stands and allows me to shut the door.
I take in one more breath before shifting into reverse with a trembling hand.
Collin’s waiting outside the garage when I pull up. He’s beside my door before I can open it. Seeing him brings on a new swell of emotions, and the tears start flowing again. I collapse into his arms when I stand.
“Hey, what’s this all about?” Collin soothes, rubbing my back. “C’mon, let’s go inside.”
He leads me into the garage with an arm around my waist. I can barely feel my feet on the gravel.
Collin pulls out the cracked leather swivel stool, patched with duct tape, and guides me to sit. He leans against the side of the car, his voice gentle. “Talk to me. What happened?”
My thoughts are spinning. I don’t know where to begin. How to explain what happened. I can barely understand it myself. But maybe Collin’s seen it before? He’s been around them so many times.
“Have you ever seen Jonathan angry?”
Collin smirks. “Is this a rhetorical question?” When I don’t smile back, his teasing shifts into worry. “Did he do something—” He stops himself before asking it. “I have. He’s intense when he’s just being normal, but he’s intimidating as hell when he’s angry.”
Then he remembers. “You went to his house for dinner tonight.”
I nod. “Have you ever seen him and his dad… fight?”
“That’s their love language,” he says, still trying to keep a humorous tone, like making me laugh will put all of this into perspective. “You know how much he can’t stand to be around his dad. So, I’m sure it was hella uncomfortable, sitting at a dinner table with them.”
“That’s not—I mean, have you ever seen them actually… fight?”
The humor evaporates from his eyes. “I mean, not really. Argue? All the time.”
I close my eyes, not wanting to think about it. The last thing I want is to picture the flash of fear in Hal’s eyes when Jonathan—
“Sadie?”
I open my eyes. Collin is officially worried. He hands me a pack of pocket tissues. I’ve started crying again. Or maybe I haven’t stopped. I take one out and blow my nose and use another to sop up the dampness from my raw cheeks.
“Maybe it’s not as bad as you think,” Collin says, attempting to comfort me. “I mean, yeah, sometimes, Hal will slap Jonathan upside the head. Or give him a bit of a shove. Nothing bad.”
I’m confused, not because what he’s saying is confusing, but because he’s making it sound acceptable. “You think that’s okay?” I can’t hide the judgment from my tone.
This puts Collin on guard. He crosses his arms.
“What do you mean? It’s not like he hurts him. It’s just when he’s annoyed we don’t follow his instructions exactly or when Jonathan talks back to him.”
“Does he ever do this to you?”
Collin releases a humorless laugh. “No.”
“But it’s fine if he does this to Jonathan? Humiliates him? Is aggressive toward him?”
I don’t know what caused the argument inside the garage—what was said, what wasn’t.
But the tension between Jonathan and his father began the moment I stepped through the door.
Every jab, disguised as playful teasing, landed like a slap.
Each time he questioned why I was with Jonathan, Jonathan reached for me, as if to make sure I was still there.
I couldn’t see it—their relationship still too unknown to me.
But I felt Jonathan’s every reaction. And as soon as he could, he swept me away, separating us from his father, like he didn’t want me anywhere near the man who so boldly insults his son and calls it a joke.
Probably afraid I might believe the untruths.
“You’re not understanding. This is how Hal is. Jonathan doesn’t respect his dad. And he lets everyone know it.” The casualness of the statement suspends me in shock.
I blink. Collin, my loving friend who I can rely on to cheer me up, can’t really think this, can he? Believe that violence is the best way to earn respect?
“He’s basically asking for it. He knows what will happen.”
When the words fall out of his mouth, I feel sick.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
I shake my head, the bitter taste at the back of my throat becoming the vile words on my tongue. “I can’t believe you just said that. If Jonathan was a girl, would you think he deserved it then?”
“What? Of course not.” Collin becomes more defensive. A shadow crosses over his eyes. I don’t recognize my best friend.
“Then why is this different?” My voice is stronger, a note of disgust in its strength.
“Are you mad at me now?” Collin is defensive. He’s looking past me, unable to meet my eyes. “You go over there once, and you think you understand everything? No, they’re not the perfect family, like yours. But perfection creates its own damage.”
“What are you talking about? This has nothing to do with my family.” I’m off the stool, standing up to him despite the inches he has on me. I will not cower.
“You can’t go around judging people.”