Chapter 12
“Come sit down, honey. I made your favorites: banana chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, and hash browns.”
I slowly make my way into the kitchen and take a seat at the table. My stomach rumbles when my mom sets a heaping plate before me. I inhale the delicious aroma for just a moment before pushing it away.
“Do you by chance have any scrambled egg whites or turkey bacon?”
My mother frowns. “I could manage the egg whites, but the only bacon we have is the kind sitting right in front of you. What’s the matter? Do you not like pancakes anymore?”
I don’t know. I haven’t had pancakes in over a decade because my personal trainer had me on a strict low-calorie, low-carb diet. If my size zero pants got a little snug, he dropped my calorie allowance even further, tacking on an extra forty-five minutes of cardio to my workout.
“Um... no, it’s not that. It’s just, I...”
“It’s just what, honey? Eat up. You’re wasting away. I haven’t seen you this small in... well, probably not since you had your first period.” She gestures to my clothing. “You were tiny in high school, and yet, you’re practically swimming in that outfit.”
I sigh. When I dug through the dresser for some old clothes, I was shocked when I saw all the size fours. People used to tell me I was too skinny back then. I can’t imagine what they’d say if they saw me now. I don’t know why I’m making such a big deal out of it, anyway. It’s just one meal. I slide the plate closer to me, pick up a fork, and take a tentative bite.
“Oh, my God,” I mumble around a mouthful of heaven.
My mama preens. “See? They can’t be all that bad if they put that smile on your face.”
Was I smiling? I reach up to touch my cheek but think better of it when I feel how swollen it is.
My mom takes the seat across from me with a sigh. “Talk to me, Presley. Please. This is killing your daddy and me.”
I finish chewing before speaking again. “Where is Dad anyway?”
“He had business up in Macon. He didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, but you were taking so long in the shower, and I thought maybe it would be easier for you to open up if it were just the two of us. Now, tell me what happened, sweetheart. Who did this to you?”
I take another bite, stalling as long as I can. Unfortunately, after only five bites, my stomach can’t handle any more food.
I can’t bear to see the look in her eyes when I say it, so I carefully study the tabletop. “Sebastian. Sebastian did this.”
She doesn’t say a word, so I finally look up and meet her tear-filled eyes. “Has he... done this before?”
“Never this bad, but... yeah. Quite a few times.”
“How long, Presley?” she croaks. “How long has he been puttin’ his hands on you?”
I hang my head in shame. “Almost the whole time.”
My mom gasps. “Oh, baby, why didn’t you say anything?”
I lift my good shoulder. “I was scared. And ashamed.”
“I’m going to kill that son of a bitch if your daddy or brother don’t get to him first.”
I shake my head. “No, Mama. You have to promise not to do anything. Not to say anything. I know you have to tell Dad, but I just want this to go away. I just want to move on with my life.”
“How can you say that? You can’t let him get away with this, Presley! I find it hard to believe you’d even consider it. I raised you to stand up for yourself.”
“Mom, please. He’s too much in the public eye. I don’t... I can’t...” I sniff as a new wave of tears makes my nose run. “I can’t stand the thought of anyone knowing what I went through. They’ll either judge me or pity me, and I don’t want either. Besides, with his connections, who do you think they’re gonna believe if I start pointing fingers? It’s my word against Sebastian’s, and in their eyes, he’s their messiah. I got away. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I do know I’m never going back. That’s what matters.”
“Presley...”
I hold my hand up. “I know it’s hard to understand. Unless you’re in the middle of a situation like that, there’s no way to truly understand why some people do what they feel they have to do. But... I just want to put it behind me. I have to believe karma will get to him one of these days.”
She gets out of her chair to envelop me in a hug, careful not to jostle my shoulder. “I don’t like it, baby, but you’re a grown woman. Just know you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
“Thank you. I?—”
“Damn, Ma, I hope you have extras because that smel?—”
Both mine and my mother’s head lifted at the sound of my brother’s voice.
His jaw drops. “Presley?! What are you doing here? And what the hell happened to your face?”
I just sit here like an idiot, blinking as he looks me over in confusion.
My mom places her hand on his chest and starts gently pushing him out of the room. “Clayton, shush. We’ll talk later.”
“What the hell, Ma? Somebody needs to explain what’s going on. Why does she look like that? Who do I need to kill?”
I can hear them whispering as she’s ushering him out of the house. After about a minute, she comes back in and starts washing dishes like the whole thing never happened.
“Mama?”
“Don’t worry about your brother, baby. His lips are sealed. He’s working this evening, but you two can catch up at dinner tomorrow night.” She turns around and throws a dishtowel over her shoulder. “Speaking of catching up... there’s something you should know, Presley.”
The look on her face tells me exactly who she’s talking about. “Why didn’t you tell me he was back?”
Her eyes widen. “You knew?”
“I saw his truck this morning. I couldn’t actually see him, but I knew he was the one driving it. Is he visiting his dad or something?”
Sadness washes over her face. “Oh, no, honey. Dave passed away about five years ago. Died in his sleep of a heart attack.”
“Oh.” I rub at the sudden tightness in my chest.
Mr. Armstrong was like a second father to me. The fact that he died years ago and I had no idea doesn’t sit well with me. Poor Beck. He was really close with his father.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
My mom frowns as she retakes a seat. “Presley, you told us on more than one occasion you didn’t want to hear about what was going on here, especially not any news related to Beckett. The last time I tried, you practically bit my head off through the phone, and I didn’t hear from you again for almost a year. What was I supposed to do?”
I remember that phone call. It was the morning after an awful beating. Sebastian had just left for work—he was the deputy mayor back then. I felt sorry for myself and really needed to hear my mama’s voice, so I called her. Within the first minute, she brought up Beckett, telling me she had some important news, and I completely freaked out on her. I never did find out what she was trying to say, but I assumed at the time that maybe he was getting married, and she was trying to break it to me gently. She sounded so sad, I couldn’t think of anything else she could possibly have to tell me.
“I still wish I knew.”
“He’s buried at the old cemetery. When you’re... feeling better, maybe you can go for a visit and make your peace.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I half-heartedly agree. “I still don’t understand why Beckett’s here. I thought he was going to make a career out of the military.”
Despite my refusal to talk about Beck, my brother felt compelled to sneak some bits and pieces in. We’d be chatting about something totally unrelated, then bam! He’d slip in some information about Beck and go right back to the previous topic as if it never happened. I’m surprised he didn’t find a way to tell me about Mr. Armstrong’s passing.
“Well, as you know, sometimes, plans change.” My mom shrugs. “Once Beck was... uh, once he had some time to grieve his father’s passing, he asked about the foreman’s position. Your daddy and I couldn’t think of anyone more deserving or qualified for it.”
Beck always did want to be a rancher.
“Well, I guess that worked out well then, huh? Good for him.”
My mom’s hazel eyes narrow. “What’s with the bitter tone? I’ve gotta say, Presley, I know you’ve been through a lot, but that boy has, too. You have no right to be upset that he’s found his way, especially since you’re...” She looks away. “Never mind. Now’s not the time.”
I stand up. “No, let’s do this. Especially since I’m what, Mom? Especially since I’m the one who left?”
She releases a harsh exhale. “You know I would never fault you for leaving, Presley. I know you were hurtin’ and you felt getting away was the best option at the time. But I don’t understand why you had to cut us out of your life, too. That part never made sense.”
I gesture to my beat-up face. “I didn’t want you to see this. I was afraid you’d know. If we talked too often, or if you came for a visit, I was afraid you’d see right through me. I was so ashamed. I am so ashamed.”
Great, now I’m crying again.
“Oh, honey.” My mom pulls me into her arms and lets me cry on her shoulder until my tears are all dried out.
“Sorry.” I wipe the tears off my face. “Lord, I’m so sick of crying.”
My mother gently frames my face with her hands. “I have a feeling you’ve been saving up a lot of tears. You cry as much as you need to.”
And now I’m blubbering.
“Look, Presley. Why don’t you go upstairs and rest for a while? You look like it’s been an awful long time since you’ve had a good sleep.”
It has.
“Okay. That’s probably a good idea. If... if I sleep through dinner, will you please wake me?”
She nods. “Of course. Get some rest, dear.”
I give her a quick one-armed hug. “Thanks, Mom.”
My mom pats the back of my head. “Anytime, baby.”