Playing Patience Page 87


She looked down at her hands and nodded. I pulled her closer to my side as I drove back to the apartment.

Twenty-Four

Patience

I finally did it. I fought back. Mostly because I knew Zeke was waiting in the car for me, but also because I refused to let him touch me again. I refused to let him turn what I’d done with Zeke into something disgusting and perverted. If he touched me, it would take away all the magic from the night before. I was free. Zeke had released me and there was no way in hell I was letting this man put his hands on me.

I’d made it to my room and packed a duffle bag without seeing my dad. I visited with my mom and told her Zeke and I were together and in love. I did all that without seeing him. It wasn’t until I made my way to the front door that he blocked my path and pulled me into the kitchen.

He’d called me every name in the book. He pulled and tugged on my arms and came close to snapping my wrist, but still I fought back with every ounce of strength Zeke had given me. And when he turned me over the table and started to rip at my shorts, I knew I would continue to fight until I couldn’t anymore.

When Zeke’s voice stopped everything, I knew it was the end of pretending. There was no more hiding it. There was no more keeping it under wraps to protect my mom and sister. Zeke would never go for that. He’d want my dad either dead or in prison, and by the look in his eyes, I was sure he was seconds away from killing him.

It wasn’t until we were back at his apartment that I felt the pressure leave my chest. So much had happened in my life and I was nervous it was all about to be revealed for the world to know. I was going to go to the police and I was going to report my dad. I had to. Zeke was right. There was no way of being sure he’d never touch my sister and maybe it was selfish of me, but now that I was with Zeke, I wanted to live my life. I couldn’t do that if I was chained to that house like a mini guard dog for my sister.

The main thing was I wanted to be the one to tell my mother. It felt wrong for her to hear it from some impersonal police officer. I wanted her to know it wasn’t her fault. I wanted her to know that I should’ve said something. She was sick and I never expected her to save me since I never said anything. If my mother was going to die with my secret heavy on her chest, then I at least wanted to help soothe it as much as possible.

She, better than anyone, understood the importance of some secrets. She’d walked around my entire life knowing my father wasn’t my father, but that secret couldn’t cause bodily harm to another human being—mine could.

So after having a major heart to heart with Zeke and telling him things I never thought I’d say out loud, I lay in his arms with my eyes open until I knew he was asleep. I wanted to speak to my mother before I went to the police station the following day, and I knew there was no way in hell Zeke would let me go back to that place until my dad was firmly behind bars.

I crept out of bed and dressed as quietly as possible. I palmed his keys so they didn’t jingle and then I tiptoed through the apartment and out the door. I was scared his loud-ass car would wake everyone when I cranked it, but it was two in the morning and everyone’s windows were black.

The drive to my house was a long one. The entire time, knowing what I was on the way to do, my heart was in my throat. It was the middle of the morning so my dad would be asleep and I’d have to wake my mother, but this needed to be done.

I unlocked the front door and closed it softly behind me. The stairs creaked under my feet as I snuck up the stairs. The long hallway that cut across the house felt longer as I made my way to my mother’s bedroom door. I passed Sydney’s room and a strange noise brought me to a halt. I knew I needed to get in and get out, but I was positive I’d heard a noise come from Syd’s room.

I stepped up to her door and slowly pushed it open. The house shrank as I took in the scene in front of me. Dad was on top of Sydney. She wasn’t supposed to be home, but she definitely was, and while I’d thought that maybe because she was his real daughter, he wouldn’t touch her, I’d never been more wrong.

His heavy frame covered her tiny body. I was faced with his bare back as he held her down. Her long legs ending with pink toenails peeked out from beneath him. I couldn’t see his hands, but I knew he was covering her mouth. Her screams were muffled. I remembered the taste of his salty palm against my lips.

I wanted to scream for her, but my vocal chords felt broken and no sound came from my opened mouth. On their own, my legs moved me. I felt myself leaving the room and walking down the hallway. I took the stairs and somehow managed to keep myself from falling down them. I was in shock and my body felt foreign.