Heart Of Marley (21 page)

I sat next to her, pulling her into my arms. She held on to me as if letting go would mean letting go of her very existence. “It’s okay, Marley Jane. Let it out. Stop keeping it inside.”

“Marley?” We both looked to see Doug hesitantly standing at the bottom of the ladder.

“Hi, Doug,” she said, wiping her tears.

“I never meant to…”

“I know you didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he said quietly.

Squeezing Marley’s hand, I said, “I think it’s time.”

She looked at me, her eyes growing wide. “I don’t know if I can…”

“I
know
you can. He needs to know.”

I
KNEW
THIS
DAY
would eventually come. I had ignored the reality of what a relationship would mean for me…and for Doug. His love set me free, or so I thought. But no amount of love could erase the past or free me from the demons that haunted me. My existence was a ticking time-bomb and, at some point, no one would be able to find a way to deactivate me.

“Marley?” Doug said, sitting down next to me in the tree house after they had found me. “Are you okay?”

I stared into his confused eyes and wished that I could tell him the words that he needed to hear, but I couldn’t. Shaking my head, I said, “No, Doug. I haven’t been okay since my eighth birthday.”

I felt a squeeze on my hand and looked at Cam. “I’ll give you guys some privacy. Unless you want me to stay?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“No. I can do this.”

He leaned over and planted a kiss on my temple. “I know you can, Mar.” He climbed down the ladder and made his way back to Brianna, wrapping his arms around her.

“Your back…” Doug said quietly.

“It’s not as bad as it used to be…”

“What happened?”

“Everything. Everything that a little girl should never have to endure happened to me, Doug.”

“Please, Marley. Just tell me. I need to know. I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”

“I know.” Taking a deep breath, I met his eyes that were awash with concern and sorrow. “When I was eight, my father died. Mama was depressed and turned to drugs and alcohol. We lost our house and had to move to some shitty neighborhoods. One day, a man saw me playing in the school yard while we were waiting for our mama. He taught me how to throw a softball. Mama never showed up so Cam and I had to walk home. He must have followed because, a week later, he appeared on our doorstep. He began to date Mama and, for a minute, she stopped drinking and doing drugs. That didn’t last. He began supplying her drugs, ensuring that she would be passed out nearly every night.”

A tear fell down my cheek as I recalled that first night. “It was New Year’s Eve. Mama invited him over to celebrate. She drank and I remember seeing her stick a needle in her arm. She said it was her medicine. I was too young to realize that she was shooting heroin. We stayed up to watch the ball drop. Mama was already passed out so he put us to bed and I fell asleep pretty quickly. I don’t know how long he waited, but in the middle of the night, I felt someone climb into my bed.”

Doug wrapped his arm around me and pulled my body into his, his grip tightening on me as he listened.

“I had no idea what was going on. I was so confused. All I knew was that whatever he was doing was the most painful thing I had ever felt in my life. He kept saying that he had demons and that this was the only way he could release them. I tried to fight him, but it never worked. He would use his belt on me whenever I attempted to get away from him.”

“How many times?” Doug asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I looked into his eyes and could see tears forming. “Practically every night for three years.”

He let out a small sob and pulled me even closer.

“Cam had to listen to my screams and cries for help nearly every night. Our mama was always unconscious from the drugs so she never stopped it. She was too drunk or coked-up to realize that anything was going on, except every few months when she promised to get her act together. She would see the welts on me and the bruises on Cam’s face and would take us away to somewhere new. Then the withdrawal symptoms would set in and she’d call him, begging for drugs, and he’d be back in our lives. Until Cam couldn’t take it anymore and found my mama’s gun and shot him.”

“So he’s dead?”

I shook my head. “No, he’s not. He was sent to prison, but he was released recently. After that night, Cam called my grams, who called the police about everything. We were sent to a home. They tried to split us up, but I would throw a fit whenever they took him from me. When I kept trying to hurt myself, the people running the home eventually caved in and let us stay together. Cam was the only one who could stop it. I guess he still is.”

“What do you mean, Marley? Do you still try to hurt yourself?”

“I haven’t in over a month. It takes my mind off everything, but since you told me that you’re in not love with me, the pain of my past isn’t as bad. I have a reason to keep breathing.”

“You’ve always had a reason to keep breathing, Marley Jane, even if I wasn’t in not love with you. You have people who love you…your aunt and uncle, and Cam. You must realize that.”

I shrugged. “I suppose. I guess sometimes I just want to turn it off and be at peace.”

“Do you really think that hurting yourself is the way to do that?”

“Sometimes I do. But I haven’t felt that way in a while because every time I do, I think of you. And I look down at my bracelet.” I glanced at my wrist. “And I feel your not love and I know that I have a reason to keep breathing. Doug, you’re my reason to keep breathing.” Tears began to stream down my face in response to my admission to him.

“Oh, Marley,” he exhaled, planting a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, but I swear I will never hurt you. We can take our time. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“Good.” I pulled out of his embrace, wiping my cheeks. “You better not look at me any differently now that you know the truth. I’m still the same Marley.”

“No, you’re not,” he said thoughtfully. “Now maybe you can be the
real
Marley around me a little bit more.”

“What do you mean? I
am
the real Marley around you.”

He raised his eyebrows at me.

“Okay. Maybe I haven’t been the most genuine version of myself.”

“Just stop pretending. I’m in not love with you more than you can possibly imagine, and that means all the parts of you.”

“Like what?” I gave him a sly smile.

“Well, for starters, I really like your lips. The words that leave them on a daily basis make me laugh and fall a little bit more in not love with you.”

I leaned in and gently brushed my lips with his. “What else?” I murmured against him.

“Your smile, regardless of the pain it tries to hide. And maybe that’s why I like it so much because, regardless of your past, you’ve found a reason to continue on and smile. I just hope that I never do anything to make that smile disappear. I fell in not love with that smile years ago, Marley Jane, and I never want to go a day without seeing it on your beautiful face.”

I crushed my mouth against him, running my hand through his hair, deepening the kiss. “What else?” I panted.

“Your heart, Marley Jane,” he said softly, his eyes intense. “It’s been broken and betrayed in the worst ways imaginable. But, against all odds, it found a reason to keep beating. It proved that it was capable to love and receive love in return.”

“Don’t you mean not love?” I interrupted.

He chuckled. “Of course. I stand corrected.”

It was silent while we sat in the tree house, the leaves rustling in a gentle breeze as his hand caressed my scarred back.

“You’re stronger than you think you are, Marley. Never forget that, okay?”

I simply nodded, wishing I could actually believe that his words were true.

T
HREE
WEEKS
HAVE
PASSED
since I told Doug the truth. Three weeks have passed that he’s treated me as if I’m about to break at any second. Three weeks have passed that I cringe when he looks at me. They always say that the truth will set you free. Not for me. The truth has erected bars around me. I walk through the halls of school, worried that people are talking behind my back. Granted, that could be because I ran through Doug’s house with my dress about to fall off after my “episode”, but I still can’t help but feel as if everyone is treating me differently…especially Doug. I hate that. I want it to stop.

I am so sick of being asked if I’m okay. Every time Doug sees me, those are the first words out of his mouth. It used to be
Hey, beautiful girl
or something like that. Now, it’s
How are you, Marley?
And not just a normal
how are you.
It’s a sympathetic, compassionate,
“
walk on eggshells because the crazy, molested bitch might crack and shoot all of us at any second”
how are you
.

The same was true today as I headed toward my second period Governments class. I considered spinning around and walking away when I saw Doug there. I couldn’t stand his kindness and empathy.

“Hey, Marley,” he said, his eyes scanning my body as if he was worried that I was about to pull out a gun and start shooting. “How are you?”

I huffed. “I’m fine, Doug.” I pushed past him. “I have to go or I’ll be late. Our class meets in the library on Fridays. I keep forgetting.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

“You don’t have to. Your class is on the other side of the building.”

“I just want to make sure you get there safely.”

I faced him, my eyes on fire. “Stop it. You promised you weren’t going to do this.”

“Do what?” he asked, taken aback.