Page 24 of A Better Place

He narrows his eyes at me as I stand to leave. I reach down to get my purse and move to get away from him once and for all, but he apparently has other plans, grabbing my arm, squeezing tightly. “Where’s my son?” he asks.

“You don’t deserve to know,” I bite out angrily, trying to wrench my arm free of his hold, but he only grips harder.

“He’s my son,” he narrows his eyes at me, venom lacing his voice.

“That’s where you’re wrong. You see, if you had read that letter, Jack plainly said you were no longer to consider him your son.”

“So, you’re brainwashing him now? He’s my blood. He’ll always be a Taylor,” he says with such a sickeningly sweet voice that I had to swallow down the vomit threatening to rise in my throat.

“You’re sick, Vince.”

“And you’re crazy if you think I’ll let you walk away.”

“Too late.”

He yanks on my arm and pulls me closer. The combination of his breath hot in my ear, tight grip on my arm, and the sound of his menacing voice causes me to whimper. “This isn’t over, Carly. You’ll never be free of me.”

Those last six words I heard him say to me have woken me up at night in cold sweats. They’ve been the words that spurred my nightmares. But they’ve always been the words that have driven me to fight. For Jack. For myself.

When I returned to Liberty, Jack asked me to start boxing with him. He was thirteen years old and could see it. I think he needed it for himself as much as me. I left him with my next-door neighbor, Donna, who saw something in me that she had seen in herself once upon a time. She took us in, made us her family. And she is the only person aside from Jack who knows what happened. To everyone else, Vince walked away and started a new family. It wasn’t that I was trying to hide the truth to cover for him so much as I didn’t want people to talk. I didn’t want any chance that word could get out to who I really am, only for him to find us.

The first day I walked into the gym I was beyond nervous. The thought of going to a place where men were learning how to hit, my son included, petrified me. I was so afraid that I would have flashbacks. But Jack was by my side the entire time. He said we needed to learn how to defend ourselves. I saw two men in a bout and almost immediately started having a panic attack. I quickly made my way toward the door, but Jack ran after me and stopped me. With tears in his eyes and his hands on my upper arms, the words that came out of his mouth helped me to finally understand why this was so important to him.

“We can’t leave now, Mom.”

“I can’t be here. I don’t want you learning to hit someone.” I point to the two men who were still going at it.

“I can’t not learn to, Mom.”

“What do you mean?”

His eyes are pleading as his voice cracks. “Mom. I’ll never forget what it looked like seeing Vince hit you. I’ll never forget how helpless I felt in that too.”

“Jack…”

“No, Mom.” His voice is now strong, as though he had dug deep for all the strength he needed to fight for what he wanted. He stands up straight, to his full height which is a few inches taller than I. “I will never again feel helpless. If I have to defend someone — you, me, whoever it may be — I’m going to be prepared. And so are you. You’re doing this, Mom. I hear you having nightmares in the night. I know you’re still scared of that piece of crap. Vince will not hurt you ever again.”

I startle when I hear the voice of someone I don’t recognize say my son’s name. I look up to see a man standing not too far from us. His presence is commanding, and his eyes are fierce. His shiny jet black hair is tied back from his face and his bulky frame makes me intimidated but his gray eyes soften, and his kind voice gives me a sense of calm.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“My name is Tate. I’m the owner of the gym.”

“Nice to meet you.” I give him a small smile.

He looks between Jack and me. He reaches up, the muscles in his arm bulging, and pushes back the few strands of hair from his forehead that had fallen.

The simple movement catches my eye, causing me to nervously wring my hands together.

“Listen. I don’t fully know your story, but I know enough. I also know why you and your son are here. Will you let me help you?” he asks. When I don’t respond immediately, he continues. “Jack came to me, with Donna. He feels like you both need this. He wants to protect you, teach you how to protect yourself. I won’t ask questions, and if at any time either of you feel uncomfortable, you just say the word. But I’m here. For you. For Jack. I’d be honored to give you that peace.”

I look at Jack, and he nods his head slowly, showing me this is what he wants… needs.

I take a deep breath and rub my lips together. “Mom?” Jack says nervously. “Please.”

Slowly I extend my hand to the burly man. “I’m Carly. Carly Hanson.”

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