Chapter Two
SIX MONTHS LATER
Harlow Springs Ranch
Near Claremore, Ok
Marley
“Marley, honey, are you okay?” Sarah’s soothing voice breaks through my thoughts. I didn’t even hear her open the creaky screen door.
I don’t look in her direction, I don’t have it in me to talk to her. My focus is on the pond across the way, close to the stream that runs through our property.
The pond makes me think of the many times we would go fishing with dad when we were little.
Dad always told me I had to carry my own pole and not rely on anyone else to carry it for me.
I would eventually fall behind because the long pole would get tangled in bushes or trees, then Mason would fall back and take the pole from me to carry it the rest of the way.
I always ended up more interested in catching frogs or turtles, anyway.
Take that pole and insert the same scenario into any other thing we did, and there was Mason, carrying the hard part for me.
With a sigh, I ask Sarah, “Is dad back yet?”
Dad drove Mason to the bus station this morning. They made him join the Army as punishment for pulling that asshole off me while he was raping me. It was that or go to jail.
Since Keith’s father is a District Attorney in Tulsa, he had some pull in the courts and demanded that Mason be punished for almost killing his son. Mason had already turned eighteen and Keith was still seventeen, so it was unfair from the beginning.
But Mason has never been in trouble, always made good grades, and he was defending me, so the judge gave him the choice between jail or the Army. If I’m honest, I think the judge wanted to let Mason off, but DA Blevins was hell bent on making him pay while trying to portray his son as the victim.
It didn’t matter that Keith put me in the hospital for a few days, my nose was broken, or that I had a concussion, or that he ripped me on the inside. He didn’t wear a condom, so I had to take one of those morning-after pills, just in case, and a shitload of antibiotics.
Even though the rape was labeled ‘violent’, and that he was even there showed intent, Mason was punished because he broke some bones and hit him so hard that he was put in a medically induced coma for about a week to wait for the swelling to go down in his brain.
I guess it doesn’t matter that being able to sleep through the night is a memory.
The nightmares wake me up, and I can only sleep if Mason is in the room with me.
The sleeping pills help, but they don’t stop the dreams that put me right back in that night.
I feel that asshole’s breath on my face and the pain in my pelvis even when I’m sleeping.
I’ve never been separated from Mason; he’s been by my side since birth. How am I supposed to get through this without him?
Since we were little, he’s always been the one to make sure I’m okay. When we were very young and I was shy, he would speak for me, instinctively placing himself between me and whatever stranger was talking to me.
Even when we got older, if we were in a crowd of people, like at one of his car shows or at the rodeo events in town, he would reach behind him and grab my hand so he wouldn’t lose me in the crowd.
He’s been with me every day since that night, sleeping on a cot in my room, not letting me out of his sight. His guilt has been hanging over him like a storm cloud, he blames himself for letting me walk out to the truck by myself.
I keep telling him it’s impossible to know what’s going to happen every second of every day. He still says he should have known better.
I made him promise me he would say goodbye before he left this morning. Knowing him as well as he knows himself, I had a feeling he was going to sneak away so I wouldn’t cry. Even though he was trying to be strong for me, I could see the worry on his face.
He knows.
He knows I’m weaker without him. I tried to be brave back, but when he kissed my forehead and told me, ‘I may be far away, but I’m here for you. Remember that. Whatever you do, stay strong, we’ll make it through this’.
I couldn’t stop the tears.
Stay strong.
Usually when people cry, the nose burns or the face scrunches up while the chin wobbles, but the damndest thing is that my tears have started flowing without even a twitch.
Like they are now. It comes and goes, sometimes I can sit out here and be dry as a bone, but other times I can’t get them to stop.
Like now.
My older brother, Gray, has been trying to help, but he’s not Mason. Mason knows what I’m thinking. Gray tries, and I love him even more for it, but it’s not the same.
Sarah is Gray’s fiancé; they’ve been together since they were in high school. She asked me to be a bridesmaid in her wedding next spring and I agreed when she asked. Before that night. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell her I don’t even know if I’ll be able to go.
“He’s not yet. When they left, he said he was stopping by the feed store on the way back.” She sits in the wicker chair next to me, facing my direction, and tucks her hands between her thighs.
There’s a chill in the air and most of the trees are shedding their leaves, some are turning colors and the view from here is beautiful. But I don’t care about any of it. It’s been hard to care about anything for the last six months.
Not really wanting to have a conversation, I’m mainly just thinking out loud. “I forgot to ask Mason how long the bus ride would be.” I made him some sandwiches, but I didn’t think that maybe I didn’t make enough until just now.
She sits back and crosses one leg over the other. “Gray looked it up and I’m pretty sure he said about fifteen hours.”
My feet slam onto the wooden porch in front of me from their resting place on the chair as I sit up straight as a board, making a huge thud on the floorboards.
It startles Sarah, and she sits at attention as I throw the blanket off my lap.
“I only made enough for breakfast and lunch, he doesn’t have anything for dinner. ”
Sarah holds out her hand like she wants to comfort me. “I’m sure he has plenty, honey, you shouldn’t worry.”
Panic slices through my chest even though I know dad probably gave him money to get something if they stopped. But what if? Mason eats his weight in food, he’ll be hungry. My breath lodges in my chest.
It’s all because of me.
I turn to Sarah. A part whine, part moan escapes my throat. “His life is ruined because of me.”
If he hadn’t went outside that night to see what was taking me so long, he wouldn’t have beat that boy almost to death. If he had only waited just five more minutes, I’m sure he would have found just me, alone in his truck, and the police would have taken care of the rest.
He wouldn’t have been pulled from his dream of working the ranch with Gray, raising and training horses, and having the life that he was born into. He lost everything by trying to protect me.
I’m trying to suck in a deep breath, but I can’t seem to get enough air. The ache in my chest feels like someone set a boulder across my ribs. I stand up, my hands out in front of me, but my vision is starting to tunnel and black spots are floating around in every direction.
“Opal.” Sarah yells as she stands in front of me, grabbing my hands. “Breathe, Marley. Focus on me.”
The screen door slams, and our housekeeper, Opal, takes her place in front of me. Her old, bony, rough hands cup my face and she stands directly in my line of sight. “Marley, focus, baby, what color are my eyes?”
Brown, her eyes are brown, and she has wrinkles all around them. My chest is still burning, but I’m able to suck some air in my lungs. Sweat is popping up on my forehead with a strange tingle over my skin.
Wrapping my fingers around Opal’s wrists, I focus on her eyes just inches away from my face, the wrinkles that get deeper when she smiles, and the way her curly gray hair sticks up on the sides after it pulls out of its braid.
Somewhere in the background, I hear Sarah yelling, “Gray!”
My knees give out and Opal shoves her arms under my arms to slow my fall. “Gray.” Her voice is urgent and firm, but she keeps it calm.
I know there are people around me, my brain knows that Opal is right in front of me and Sarah is to my left, and Gray is somewhere in the stable.
My dad will be back soon, but I feel so alone.
Even with my little brother and two little sisters in the house with us when they’re home from school, I still feel so totally alone.
Another wave of grief washes over me, and I crumple into Opal’s arms as the sobs make my whole body shake. How am I supposed to do this by myself? Why did this happen to us?
Boots running up the steps of the huge wrap-around porch are to my right, and strong arms slide behind my legs and back, and then I’m being lifted.
“It’s okay, Squeak, I gotcha. Opal, will you grab some water and her pills, please?”
I turn my face into Gray’s chest as I fist his shirt and let the sobs go, the hurt and agony in my voice is loud in each cry. He carries me to my bedroom and sits behind me on the bed, rocking me against his chest until the sobs turn to squeaky hiccups.
Opal hands him one of the pills the therapist prescribes for me and a glass of water. “Here, honey, take your meds and you’ll feel better.”
It’s not true. They take the edge off, and they help me fall asleep, but they don’t make me feel better. I take them anyway. It makes everyone else feel better.
Gray sits and rocks me until my eyelids are too heavy to hold open anymore.