CHAPTER 09 - Noah Black
I wanted to feel at home here
But something was very wrong
So I prayed that I could run away
Breakaway – Kelly Clarkson
My entire body freezes the instant I reach the top of the stairs and see Gavin gripping Sadie by the wrist, hatred burning in his eyes.
Fear races down my spine and seeps through my entire body as I consider the possibility that he’s discovered Bryan isn’t dead.
But I shove that thought to the back of my mind because just thinking about it makes me shut down. Looking at those little eyes staring at me with such desperation breaks something else inside me.
She’s scared. Terrified.
Afraid of this monster who should have been dead a long time ago.
My feet move on their own, and before I even realize it, I’m racing down the steps, rage pounding in my ears.
The instant I reach them, he shoves her hard against me and her little body collides with mine.
Sadie immediately hides behind me, clinging to my legs.
“If I come home tomorrow and she’s still writing with that horrible handwriting,” he growls, his voice dripping with contempt, “I’ll leave her all day without food, just studying.”
My stomach turns.
I want to scream that he’s a worm.
I want to fly at his throat and strangle him.
I want to make this bastard swallow every bit of suffering he’s ever put us through.
But all I do is lift Sadie into my arms and press her face against my chest, because right now my arms are the only safe place in the world for her.
“I want her writing her own name all night long,” he continues, and she buries her face in my neck. “And if either of you dares to sleep, I’ll wake you both with water, and this time, it won’t be cold.”
The threat echoes off the walls, and she trembles in my arms.
I bite my lips hard and watch him stride away toward the elevator that leads to the basement.
To this bastard’s sacred place.
The place I’m terrified to remember and will never let Sadie enter.
I feel tears wetting my neck, so I head back to my room, holding her tight. As soon as I’m through the door, I lay her on the bed and tilt her face toward mine.
Something in me breaks every time I see that frightened look.
And every time they hurt her in some way, I feel guilty.
Fragile.
Incapable.
Useless.
It’s agonizing to know for certain that they would destroy her in a matter of seconds, that they wouldn’t think twice about hurting her to get to me if I tried to run.
I always try to be there, and every time she was “disobedient,” I bore the consequences because I do everything I can to keep them from touching her.
When he or Sarah are angry and frustrated about something, they need to take it out on someone, and I always make sure I’m the one nearby in those moments, never Sadie.
Today he only found her alone with Greta because I went upstairs to try to rest a little, since he wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour.
It never occurred to me that he’d come home early, or I never would have gone upstairs without her.
I can bear anything they do to me.
But not to my little girl.
Did they hurt you, my love?
I sign with my hands, and she nods, her eyes wet with tears.
What did they do?
“He squeezed here hard.” She points to her little arm, and only then do I see the red marks from his fingers.
“It hurts,” she whimpers in her small voice, and I lean in, pressing a soft kiss to the marked skin, hoping my love will ease the pain.
“I just wanted him to like my handwriting, but he came home and didn’t like it at all. ”
Your handwriting is beautiful, I sign firmly. Beautiful like you.
“I think they find me ugly because of my little scar…” she says, avoiding my gaze.
My heart sinks, and with all the gentleness in the world, I lift her little face with my hands.
You are the most beautiful little girl in this world, do you hear me? Don’t you dare doubt that. Never!
This scar, I run my fingers over the wrinkled skin, only makes you even more perfect. They’re the ones who are ugly and evil.
I sign, then press a soft kiss to the top of her eyebrow, right where the scar begins. I follow with light kisses along the marked skin, trailing down to the end of her neck, where the burn ends.
Sarah said it was an accident, but I remember that day perfectly because it was one of the worst days of my life.
I was in the shower when I heard the agonizing screams, so I wrapped myself in a towel and ran down the stairs. The moment I entered the kitchen and saw Sarah just standing there watching Sadie scream, I knew she had done something.
That was the day I first felt the urge to kill her.
She claimed she hadn't heard Sadie come into the kitchen, and that's why, when she turned around with the steaming mug of tea and saw her standing there, she got so startled she dropped it.
I never believed it was an accident, because not once did I see desperation, panic, or guilt in her eyes while my butterfly cried, writhing, her red skin starting to blister.
Sarah just watched and only decided to act when she saw me rush into the room in a panic. Greta had to help gather the paperwork and everything we needed to get to the hospital, since Sarah moved through it all calmly, as if there weren't a child crying in agony inside the house.
Sadie spent weeks in treatment, and the doctor said the mark might fade over the years, but since it was a second-degree burn, it would be very hard for it to disappear completely.
That was the night my butterfly got a scar on her face, and I got an irreversible crack in my chest.
I have recurring nightmares about the screams I heard and about what could have happened if the two of them had been alone in the house.
“Do you think the hunter can catch them so we can sleep?” she asks softly, pulling me from my memories, and my heart aches at her words. “I'm sleepy…”
You're going to sleep all night, and I'll keep watch to make sure they don't come near you
“But…”
You're sleepy and you're going to sleep, so hush while I get your teddy bear and your things so we can snuggle up together, okay?
She nods hesitantly, and I run to the room next door, grabbing what she needs to sleep with me. I'm back in less than a minute, and Sadie clutches the bear tightly as soon as I hand it to her.
I cover her with the comforter, arrange the pillows, and sit beside the bed.
Good night, my butterfly. Sleep tight—tomorrow we'll study like we're supposed to. I love you from here…
“To infinity,” she finishes, a smile slowly forming, and I press a kiss to her cheek.
She returns it, and I lie down beside her, pulling her little body close, hugging her and trying to make her understand how much I love her even though I can't say it out loud every day.
I wish I could lull her with songs, with words of affection, but I can't, and that hurts me more than any beating I've ever taken. Not being able to say everything I feel for her out loud kills me a little every day.
Sadie is an incredible little girl, and even with everything she's been through and seen inside this house, she has an enormous heart.
Her eyes carry pain they shouldn't, yet there's still the sparkle of childhood, of innocence.
Her laugh is still loud, and when I hear it while we play, it's like a jolt of hope.
She shouldn't be inside this fortress full of screams, threats, and rules. She should be running through parks, scraping her knees, making friends at school, falling in love with different ice cream flavors, diving into lakes, flying like a butterfly.
I dream of her growing up without fear of the sound of footsteps, without needing to hide her playful nature, without needing to measure her words at the table.
I wish she could truly live, but I know I can't offer her that—not while these two are alive, not while they're so influential, not when they have eyes everywhere, but especially not while they can still snatch her from me so easily.
And the truth that tears me apart the most, the one that chokes in my throat, is that I'm still not enough for her.
I love her more than anything in this world, yet I'm weak, because I can't get her out of here.
Weak because I can't give her what she deserves.
Weak because the only world I know is dark, suffocating, and inhabited by monsters.
Monsters that still visit me every night, that haunt my mind.
Monsters that left marks no one sees, but that burn as if they were made yesterday.
And what terrifies me most, what makes my chest twist with fear, is that she'll know these monsters too.
Rage and guilt mix inside me like poison.
I wanted to be a shield, a wall, protection, but sometimes all I manage to be is a fragile shelter that offers little safety.
I bring my fingers to her hair, twirling it the way I know she loves. She sighs and snuggles even closer, throwing her little leg over my waist, her face pressed against my chest.
I beg the heavens that one day we'll be able to get out of here, not for me, but for her.
An hour later, when I notice she's fallen into a deep sleep, I carefully shift her body and ease away, walking to the door. Only after locking it do I head to the closet.
From the highest corner among the clothes, I pull out a shoebox with white sneakers and take out the phone I hid inside. It feels three times heavier than normal, and I know it's because of fear.
I return to the bed, turn it on, and open the messaging app.
My heart races when I see the nickname he chose for himself.
HUNTER
Tears fill my eyes before I can stop them.
I don't know why he came back, much less why he wants to help us when he had five years to return and never did.
I think of a thousand things to write.
A thousand things I could say about how the night was hell.
That Gavin hurt her.
That I need help because I don’t have any strength left.
I want to ask him to disappear again, but this time take Sadie with him and leave me here to suffer the consequences—to try to keep Gavin from going after them.
But all I manage to type is:
Noah: Are you still there?
Three seconds later, the two arrows turn blue.
And the response comes almost instantly:
Hunter: Always. I’ll always be here for you two!
The response sends a pang through my chest, and I lie down, pressing the phone to my heart, keeping the monsters outside this room for a few seconds.
For you two.
Even though he’s only seen Sadie once, he’s already included her.
I type again.
Noah: Where are you staying?
I watch the dots that show he’s typing.
Hunter: In a house on the outskirts of town. Luke got it for me.
Reading the message, my eyes widen as I remember his brother. I met him the night at the lake and ran into him a few times when I snuck out with Bryan. He hated my side of town, but he never treated me badly.
Noah: How is he?
He’s fine, but stubborn as a mule.
I smile.
Noah: Sounds like it runs in the family.
Hunter: Maybe.
How are you, Noah?
The question appears on the screen and, for a second, everything inside me churns.
It’s just a simple, harmless sentence, but my eyes fill with tears because it’s been so long since anyone cared enough to ask me that.
Actually, the last person who asked how I was doing was him, that night when everything changed.
Noah: Tired, scared…
Hunter: What happened after I left?
Why did he call you screaming?
I type, delete, and retype several times, debating whether to tell the truth. In the end, I go with it.
Noah: He hurt Sadie and yelled for me to come get her.
Now his dots appear and disappear, and I wonder what’s going through his head.
Hunter: Bastard!! What did he do?
Noah: Yelled and grabbed her arm hard.
I look over and see her sleeping peacefully.
How amazing it would be if the three of us could be happy.
If we could be a family.
Hunter: Butterfly, I’m going to find every weak point your parents have, every dirty secret, and I’ll use it all to destroy them. Then I’ll get you two out of that house.
Noah: I don’t know if that’s possible.
I hit send, my heart pounding.
Hunter: If it’s not, I’ll make it possible.
Nothing will stop me. Nothing.
Noah: Why? Why did you come back?
What have you been doing these past few years? I’m so confused, Bryan.
Hunter: I’ll find a way to get you out of there so we can talk in peace, and then I’ll tell you everything. But I’m asking you to trust me.
Noah: I think that’s impossible.
Hunter: No. It’s not. And I’ll prove it. I’m already trying to get in there, but if you know anything that would make it easier, let me know.
I close my eyes as I read the words, and I’m about to turn off the phone when I remember the conversation at breakfast.
I look at the screen again, wondering whether to tell him—I know it’s crazy—but when my eyes fall on her, my fingers are already typing frantically.
Noah: Sadie’s homeschool teacher got sick and was fired. Gavin is looking for a new one and said this time he’s bringing someone from the capital to stay here all week.
Hunter: That’s perfect information!
Tell the little one she’s going to have an excellent teacher.
Noah: Bryan… This is crazy!
I type, and when I hear footsteps in the hallway, I quickly add:
Noah: I need to stop talking.
Good night!
Hunter: Good night, Butterfly!
I delete all the messages, get up, and run to the closet, hiding the phone back in its spot. I hold my breath when I hear the latch being forced.
“Noah?” Greta’s voice comes from the other side, and I run to open the door. “I need to spend the night here because Gavin told me to keep an eye on you and Sadie,” she says, and I smile, stepping aside to let her in before locking the door behind us.
The vermin has no idea she’s become my friend and truly believes she punishes me when he orders her to.