Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“I tried to convince your mam to report your dad, but she’s refused. I’m not sure how we’re going to deal with your father, but it’s not safe for you to go back to that house either. Promise me you’ll come straight here after you finish work today.”
“Okay, sure,” I said. “I’ll come back here, but I might need to go home and grab some clothes.”
“I’ll bring you,” Eugene said. “I have to work today, but I’ll find time later this week.”
“Right,” I replied as Claire put two slices of bread in the toaster for me.
A small period of quiet fell before Claire returned to the table, setting tea and buttered toast in front of me. She sat across the table as I took a bite, her eyes gentle when she asked, “How many times has this happened?”
I swallowed down the lump of bread like it was a solid brick then muttered, “How long is a piece of string.”
My aunt gasped. I looked up and found her eyes shiny with emotion. Eugene’s were a mix of empathy and fury though I knew the latter was for my dad.
“Oh, darling, why didn’t you ever come to us?” Claire asked, reaching out to touch my hand. I stilled, feeling a strange discomfort at her tender, caring words. If I could’ve convinced Mam to come to her sister’s sooner, how much suffering might we have avoided?
“She made me promise not to tell anyone,” I answered quietly. “When she took him back this year, she was convinced he’d changed. But last night, she finally came to her senses and realised he hasn’t changed, and he never will.”
Again, my aunt’s eyes were etched with emotion. It felt so odd to talk to someone about this because it was a secret my family kept for such a long time. I finished eating then brought my dishes to the sink.
“We’ll see you back here later, yes?” Claire asked as I made to leave. “No going back to your house?”
“I’ll come straight here, I promise,” I told her then headed out.
Work was hectic as usual, but for once, I was glad for how busy it was. I didn’t have time to stress about Mam or worry about how incensed Dad must’ve been when he came home and found both of us gone. He might suspect where Mam was, but my aunt wouldn’t let him into the house if he showed up there, and Shay would be around to scare him off.
Dad had always been strangely freaked out by Shay’s mutism, thinking there was something off about him and that it wasn’t a simple medical condition. He also hated how Mam and me knew sign language, that we had a way of communicating that excluded him.
By the end of my shift, I was all set to drive back to Aunt Claire’s, but then Derek texted me about a party at their house that they were throwing to welcome Charli. My thoughts went to her as I wondered if she were the sort of person who liked parties being thrown in her honour. Personally, I couldn’t think of anything worse than being forced to be the centre of attention.
Then some kind of longing squeezed in my chest. I liked talking to her yesterday, liked how she looked at me as if I were the most interesting person in the room. Her smile had broadened for me more so than it had for the others, which confused me. I didn’t often get that reaction from girls, and it made me strangely nervous, something tightening in my chest when her eyes held mine. But I knew her warmth was mainly down to my Fallout T-shirt, which she was a fan of, too. Beautiful and a gamer. Could she be any more perfect?
Thinking I could spare a few hours to go to the party, I quickly called my aunt and explained the situation. She seemed hesitant but finally accepted when I promised I’d be home by ten. The only problem was, after an eight-hour shift, I reeked of body odour and was in desperate need of a shower. Remembering I had some clothes stashed in Derek’s room from the last time I stayed over, and how their housekeeper was meticulous about laundering every item of clothing that entered the house, I shot off a quick text to my friend asking if I could shower and change in his room.
Sure, man. Get your arse over here, he texted back.
That was what I loved about Derek. He didn’t ask questions about why I would need to shower at his place. He just went with the flow. It was a quick drive to their house. I parked outside, my mam’s twelve-year-old Honda looking completely out of place next to the Balfes’ collection of shiny new, top of the line vehicles.