Unbroken (37 page)

Again.

But I don’t care. I’ll take any beating for as long as it takes if it means that Dalis and Sabrina won’t get hurt again. I’d bear it all for them.

I can hear my dad’s footsteps shuffling as he circles me, ready to pounce. I take my stance, firing a shot to his jaw. He stumbles, his momentum lost by the impact of my fist against his flesh. He grabs his jaw, shocked, and not a second later I’m on the floor as a shot to my temple sends my entire world in motion. Stars fill my eyes as I struggle to regain my footing. I’ve just gotten on my feet when my dad sends a punch to my chin, sending me flying backward, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth within seconds. I wipe the blood off my mouth and jump to my feet, running and tackling him at the middle, satisfied with the audible grunt that escapes his lips. I begin punching him in the face as hard as I possibly can, but there’s nothing that I can do to keep him from flipping me over.

He sends punch after punch to my face until I can’t see much of anything. Everything is fuzzy, everything is going dark. I can hear Dalis’s cries of agony, but they seem miles away. I tell myself, scold myself, try to will myself to get off the fucking floor, but I can’t move. He rains blows at my face, at my head, at my chest until I feel like I can’t breathe.

I go completely numb, not anticipating any of the blows as they come. They all feel exactly the same. Even though I’m in pain, even though I know that death is inevitable, I never stop fighting. I punch, trying to hit as many inches of him as I can. All the cards are on the table. I have to win this, have to win this for myself, for Mom who never knew that the man she fell in love with would turn into such a monster, for Cason who spent his entire life looking up to him only to realize that he was a coward, for Dalis who stood up to him when I knew that I couldn’t, and ultimately paid for it by getting struck by him, and lastly, for Sabrina, who believed in me, who believed in my bravery so much that she knew this day would inevitably come, that I’d fight my father.

I promise myself now that if, by some miracle, I make it out alive, I’ll make sure that she never has to wonder how I feel about her again. She’ll always know, beyond any shadow of a doubt how much I love her. I’ll propose to her, and I’ll marry her, and she’ll never doubt me for a single second. And we’ll live happily ever after. We’ll get the thing I never thought was available to me.

I struggle to my feet again, taking a dizzying step before I land a punch to his gut. He doesn’t falter, doesn’t stumble, just sends me flying to the floor with a devastating one-two combo. He’s on top of me, now, raining blow after blow into my face, my chest, my ribs, my stomach. I can’t stop him. I gasp for air, feeling as though I’m breathing through a straw. There’s only a nanosecond before the next punch comes. I struggle against him to no avail.

In the last agonizing moment before he stands up, I almost think that I have a little bit of hope left. How fucking wrong I was.

I curl up and cough violently, spitting blood on the floor as I receive a kick to the stomach. A kick to my back opens me up again, and I receive multiple kicks to the chest and ribs. I can hear my ribs cracking but there’s nothing I can do. Through blurred vision, I see Cason rush at my father, only to get cracked by his elbow and sent flying backward, hitting his head on the floor.

No,
I think.

This isn’t how this is supposed to happen! It’s supposed to be me! It was always supposed to be me! No one else was supposed to get hurt! No, no, no, no, no!

I try to call out to Cason, to Dalis, to anyone, but no words come out, no matter how hard I try. Everything that
does
come out sounds strangled and forced, and is barely intelligible after the beating I’ve endured thus far.

I can’t find my voice. I can’t speak. All I can do is lie here and wait for the next blow.

My father leans over me, hands at the ready. He grabs my throat and with all his strength—which is surprisingly a lot considering how inebriated he is right now—he pulls me to my feet by my neck. I thrash against him, and I reach up to try and fight free of his grasp, but that, too, proves to be unsuccessful. He thrusts me up against a wall, and he continues choking me until my vision goes blurry. My throat closes up and I struggle to inhale, but I can’t. I can’t.

“
Stop it!”
Dalis screams. “
You’re going to kill him! STOP IT! PLEASE! STOP! DAD!”

Her last word breaks and seems to have an effect on him because he releases me. I think that maybe he’s done. He’s going to leave me alone now. I take a staggering breath to try and regain consciousness as I drop to the floor.

I watch him retreat, and I’m ready to get up, get out of here, and recuperate with Sabrina, when I hear my sister scream.

I hear the click of the gun somewhere in the distance and my heart stops. I know that I’m going to die, know it with every fiber in my being. I know now that I’ve failed. He’s going to kick my ass until I’m begging for death, and then he’s going to give it to me. Death is mere inches away, mere seconds away, and I’m welcoming it. It’s the only way that I can be free of the brutal beating I’ve received, only way that I won’t be haunted everyday by what I couldn’t do for the ones I love.

Take me now,
I beg.
Please, just end this.

I just lay here, no fight left in me. I don’t try to get up, don’t try to yell. All I can do is curl up and try and will the pain away. I try to pray for a few moments of relief before he ends it all. Now, I allow the tears to fall, and I allow myself to think of Mom, and to think of Sabrina.

I wince as I receive more vicious kicks, more harsh blows as my brother lay unconscious on the floor and my sister stands on the staircase screaming as though her life depends on it. Her hands come up to her hair, and she pulls, like she’s frustrated, angry, wondering what the Hell she can do to stop this.

Suddenly, the blows stop, and I can hear two people struggling, but I can’t tell who. They grunt, yell, fumble, for what?

I am going to die.

I know it with every fiber in my being. I can’t even catch my breath for the fucking life of me.

Now I start to think of the people that I love… God, I can nearly see their faces in my mind. I love them the most in the world, and there is nothing that I can do to live up to the promises I have made to either of them.

I’m so sorry that I failed you, Mom. Cason, I’m sorry that you looked up to me. I am nothing. Dalis, I’m sorry you had to witness this. Sabrina, I love you. God, I’m so sorry that I never said it enough. I’m so sorry that I never showed you what you meant to me. I’m sorry that it’s too late.

Despite being engulfed by the seemingly never-ending darkness, I can sense bursting rays of light nearby. Like this darkness will end momentarily. Like I’ll finally be free. Like I'll see and taste the daylight once more before death claimed me.

Then I see her. Pale skin, gray-blue eyes, dark hair falling over her shoulders. She kneels down beside me, takes my hand, and helps me to my feet. I blink in confusion. There’s no way she’s actually here. It’s not possible is it?

“Mom?” I ask, and I furrow my brows in confusion. My voice. I can speak. I can speak, but I still feel the pain from what’s happened since I set foot in this house. “Mom, what are you…what’s going on?”

She brings her fingers up to her lips, shushing me, and I hear my sister continue to scream in the background. But she’s not screaming for nothing, not helpless. She’s fighting back. She’s fighting. Then I hear something else. A man’s voice. Cason. He fights, too. They’re…they’re fighting for me.

“Mom…I don’t understand.”

She nods in understanding. “I know, baby boy. It’s okay. It’s almost over.”

What’s almost over? None of this makes any sense! I want to scream at her, want to cry for her, want to wrap her up in my arms, but she’s gone suddenly, and I’m back on the floor. I’m watching my sister pound on my father, weathering blow after blow and coming back twice as hard. She’s small, and she’s weak, but she’s fast, faster than he could ever be in his inebriated state.

Cason fights too, and the both of them are starting to wear him down. I can see him. He’s missing more blows than he’s landing. I struggle to try and regain my footing, but I can’t…I can’t move. I can’t breathe.

Sabrina enters my mind, and I think of the rings weighing heavily in the pocket of my jeans. I know now I’ll never get to ask her to marry me. I’ll never get to know what it’s like to call her my wife. I’ll never know what our life could be like beyond today, and I’ll never forgive myself for wasting two years with Michele when I should have been spending them with Sabrina. With my person.

Maybe I was right all those years when I said happy ever after wasn’t in the cards for me. Clearly it isn’t.

Something drops, and I hear a loud thud before the punches and kicks rain down on me once more. My sister’s screams have stopped. When had they stopped? What the Hell happened to her? God, if he hurt her, I’ll never forgive myself. The only thing that I can hear are the grunts of effort that it takes my dad to use the last of his strength and beat me into nothingness. I take a final kick to the head, and everything goes completely black, but not before I hear the gunshot.

THIRTY

I DON’T KNOW EXACTLY WHAT it was that led me to this street. Call it intuition, I don’t know. But deep down, I know this is where I’m supposed to be. This is where Brody is. I felt it, but when I saw the Denali sitting outside
that
house, I knew I was right.

I know the minute I pull up in front of Brody’s old house that something is wrong. I could feel it in my gut, all day, but that feeling has only intensified. I press a hand to my abdomen, trying to calm my nerves long enough to get me inside and figure out what’s happened.

I glance over at Bianca, and she grabs my hand, squeezing it in reassurance. It’s a moving gesture, but I can’t calm myself until I get inside of this house and get a good idea of what exactly I’m dealing with.

I jump out of the car and race over to the door. I find it slightly ajar, and my heart sinks. This is
not
good. The first thing that comes to my mind is the chance that I’ll have another encounter with his father. I almost panic and turn away, but then I think about Brody, and what situation he could be in. And that forces my feet to move until I’m walking through the front door.

I push it open without hesitation as a scream catches in my throat. I nearly trip over the threshold as I try to register the image before me.

Dalis is on the floor, her knees pulled up to her chin as she sobs, a gun at her feet as blood pools around her, staining the carpet the most disturbing shade of red. Cason is barely coming to, groaning as he struggles to get up. Mr. Durham is lying on his back in a pool of his own blood, and inches away from him is Brody.

It’s now that I allow myself to scream.

Fear consumes me.

And grief.

And pain.

I don’t know which emotion to feel more of, because I don’t know the extent of the damage. I don’t know how bad things are or how bad they can get. All I know is the man I love is lying damn near lifeless on the ground and blood is surrounding him and…shit. I think I’m going to be sick.

My scream is cut off immediately as I bend double and proceed to vomit. Everything hurts. Everything. I can’t breathe…

I can’t differentiate whose blood is whose. All I know is there’s
blood
and there’s too much of it and oh, my God, please don’t let him be dead.

My beautiful Brody. There is nothing that I want more than to throw myself over him and sob, but I can tell by the small, nearly breathless movements of his chest that he is still alive. Barely.

He is barely breathing, but he’s living nonetheless. His breaths are quick and shallow, as though he’s trying to get as much air as possible as quickly as possible. His face is covered in blood, both his father’s and his own, and he is curled into a ball. I want nothing more than to throw myself at him, to cry, to scream, to curse the gods for letting that bastard hurt Brody, but I know that it’s no use. I don’t want to hurt him more. I fight back the tears at the sight of his bruised, mangled body. I kneel down next to him and kiss his forehead, even though it’s bloody and bruised. I need to show him that I love him, and that I’m here. I’m late, but I’m here.