35. Ambrose—age nine #3
Without thinking about it, I shove my hand in with hers. Flames eat away at my skin, but I don’t think about the pain it causes. I only think about the repercussions, not the scars, and what Colin will do to me for intervening.
I elbow him once, twice, three times, hoping his grip will cease, and I force another hand in to try to pull Dollie’s out.
Only when the flame from my arm, burning off the sleeve of his ugly shirt and melting it to my skin forever, touches him does he step back.
I throw myself into the water, dragging Dollie with me.
The flames fade out beneath a blur of tears and the dirty liquid.
Dollie’s body wraps around mine, holding me tightly. Her scarred hand clutches the clothes I hate, and the other gets some relief from the feel of my cleaner hair.
Colin smiles. “Your parents will be pleased that you’re bonding. You really are a good big brother. They’ll be on the news in a few days. As a reward, I’ll let you watch them.”
He disappears back up the stairs, and we make it back to the dresser.
Breathing through the pain my cheeks pulse with, I ask, “Where did he take you?”
I hold her closer than anyone else will ever get.
“Outside. In a doghouse. I didn’t see a dog, though. I saw snow. I really do think it’s Christmas soon.”
“You were out in the snow? In the cold? God, Dollie, I’m so sorry.”
She’s still like ice to touch, and it causes a knot of worry in my stomach over the idea that she really might die if we stay here.
“Trust me, okay?”
A “huh-uh” sound leaves her lips.
Leaving the dresser once more, I lead us back to the fire. My breathing picks up speed, but hers stalls in her lungs. She eyes me warily before thrashing in my arms to get away.
The hungry flame, chewing through wood, terrifies her.
I hold her tighter. She sobs harder, clutching her burned hand to her chest.
“Dollie, I won’t hurt you. I’ll never let anything hurt you again.” Blood rushes through my gaping wounds, dripping into her hair.
I shouldn’t be talking.
It hurts too much—more than my hands and their flaying skin—and it takes me back to the bathroom. To Colin, holding a mirror and showing me his handiwork. To him, telling me he’s changed me forever.
The kiss he left on my forehead staining me forever.
Despite all the pain, I reiterate the fact, “I won’t let him hurt you.”
“He did hurt me. And it hurt me being outside, and you weren’t there. I had no one. You weren’t there!” Her voice comes out in a stutter. Her body is like ice and twitching with the cold as she talks.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, trying hard to spit the blood from my mouth because it feels so dirty now.
“He’s wrong. You’re not a good big brother. You said you’d protect me, and you didn’t.”
Her words gut me because she’s all I have down here.
“You don’t mean that. I am a good big brother.” My lip trembles. “And you’re an amazing sister. You’re caring and kind, and I really need you right now.”
Still, my caring and kind little sister pushes me away.
With force, I keep her with me, and I clap my hand over her mouth before the inevitable screaming comes.
If her teeth sink into my burned flesh, it might just be the thing to kill me.
“Dollie, don’t.” My blood drips into her hair. “I’m in agony. Don’t push me away when I need you.” Keeping her with me by force makes me feel worse, and tears follow the blood trails down to her. “And you need me, too. Don’t let him rip us apart. You’re my lifeline down here.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“You’re the reason I’m alive. My purpose.”
“You’re just saying Mommy’s song.” She pushes at me again, her eyes finding my face as I loosen my tight grip.
The anger and fear in her eyes mutes to sadness as she takes in my image up close. The glow from the fire allowing her a good look. Featherlight, she touches my face, avoiding the direct injuries.
“See, I’m hurt, too. I’m hurt, and I still put my hands in the fire to get yours out.” Heartbreak floods from my eyes, and I can barely see my sister as she sits in my lap.
Staring down at her injured hand, I take it in mine, the scars seeming to slot together like a perfect puzzle.
“Why?” is all she can manage as her fingers gently close around my hand.
“Because I love you, and I need you. We need each other.”
Sad eyes look directly into mine. “Do you really love me?”
“I do.”
She nods, then surrenders her fight. Her head rests against my chest, tears soaking through the shirt. “I love you, too.”
Stuttering out a breath, I settle us against the wall near the fire. She glances at the flame and then at me, deciding to leave her trust in my arms. Her body wracks and shudders, and it makes me hold her tighter.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m very sorry.” Her apologies aren’t needed. “I’m just hurting.”
“Don’t be sorry. You’re scared and hurt.
I get that, and I am, too. But he can’t come between us.
If he doesn’t, anything he does to us won’t matter.
Nothing he does will destroy us. Even if he breaks us, we’ll be whole together.
No one can ever come between us, Dollie.
” I hold up our scarred hands. “We’re one, and no one can get in the way of that. ”
Because I’m never gonna be able to have another person touch me again.
Not Mom. Not Dad. Only Dollie.
“We can be whole together,” she repeats to me.
Good, because alone, I’ll never be whole again.