Page 47 of Fractured Souls

“Harley, be strong. Be brave. You can do this. Remember what I've always told you.”

I think back to what she has told me every week since as long as I can remember, “If anything ever happens, you find an opening, and you run. You run, Harley. You leave me and run.” She used to make me repeat it back to her all the time.

I nod at her, and she closes her eyes and exhales.

I try to fight the man's hold, but he is stronger than I am. I cry out for my mom and claw at his arm. What is happening? Who are these people?

“What do you bastards want? The old fucker couldn’t come deal with me himself? How did you even find me?”

“Oh, don’t worry, the old fucker is here to deal with you himself,” says a voice from the front of the house.

A huge man comes into the room. I can see tattoos sticking out around his neck from the jacket he has on, and his lips are twisted into a cruel smirk. He walks up to my mom and starts hitting her everywhere.

I scream and cry and beg, but the guy behind me just holds on tighter, leaving bruises on me. I'm forced to watch as they tie my mom up on the table and hurt her. She screams. I don't know what he's doing, but it looks painful, and she's bleeding in between her legs. The other guys cut and hit her until she passes out. Then they throw cold water on her, and she comes to.

The huge man that mom called the old fucker says, “No passing out now. Before we finish up with you, I’m going to ruin you. You’ll watch your precious baby get raped and beat and her throat slit, then I’ll take you home with me and watch you die slowly… Or maybe I’ll kill you and then take your little girl home and keep her for myself. You did run away from me.”

I feel my mind closing off. Refusing to listen or see more. I squeeze my eyes shut. Tears running down my face. I can feel my entire body shaking.

“You would’ve killed my baby! I had to leave. You left me no choice, you bastard!”

The man laughs, “Ahh, someone grew a backbone while in hiding for thirteen years. It’s really a shame I can’t take you home with me. It would be so fun to break that backbone.”

Mom starts screaming and trying to fight. I don't know what to do. I have a feeling they are going to do what they did to mom to me. I need to run like mom always told me.

The guy behind me grabs a knife and holds it against my throat, causing Mom to freeze and stare with wide eyes. She looks at me. “It's okay, baby. It's okay. You can do this. It's. Okay,” she says slowly.

It takes me a minute to understand that she means it’s okay to leave her. Tears fall down my face as I keep my promise to my mom and do what I can to get out of here.

I know she is talking about running, so I take a deep breath. Reminding myself of all the times Mom said I was strong. That I can be my own princess. My own warrior.

I throw my head back as hard as I can trying to throw the guy off balance, then I ram my foot down on top of his and kick back as hard as I can. When I stumble forward as his tight grip loosens, his knife flies at my face and slices it. I feel horrible pain searing down my face, but before I can cry about it, Mom is screaming to run, so I do. I take off and run and run.

My surroundings blur around me as I become exhausted. Finding myself stumbling more and more. I have to keep going.

I don't stop until I pass out. After that, everything is gone.

I stop and take a breath, preparing myself to tell Brielle and the guys the rest. "I apparently had passed out on the side of the road. Luckily a cop had been driving by and saw me collapse while I was running. I don't remember anything after that. I guess I was unconscious for about two weeks in the hospital. The doctor said it was because my brain was letting my body heal from the mental and physical trauma of it all. The cut on my face obviously left a scar." I point at it, as if they can't see it. "They had to put stitches in it because it was really deep. I never got aftercare, so the scarring is worse than it was supposed to be. My right arm was fractured where the man had been gripping it so hard, but I never got proper treatment for it after the hospital, so it isn't fully healed and still aches sometimes."

I take a shaky breath, feeling the tears still streaming down my face. I've been staring at the table this whole time, but I finally look up. Linc’s eyes are misted over, and his breathing is ragged as he seems to try and get a control on his emotions. Atlas looks ready to hunt anyone who has ever hurt me down and kill them. His eyes are narrowed as he glares a hole in the table. His fists are clenched, and his entire body is tense.

Brielle is crying with a hand over her mouth. She nods her head at me, moves her hand, and says, "It's okay."

I exhale and then continue. Better to get it over with now. "My mom's sister Tammy, who was there when I woke up, told me my mom died in a fire. That's all I know, and I don't know if anything has happened with it since that day. I've had no way of finding out. Besides what you just said about it being an electrical fire."

“So when you woke up, did anyone besides Tammy talk to you? Cops or doctors or anything?” Lincoln asks.

“A doctor came in once, but he directed everything towards Tammy. Like I wasn't even in the room. Then they stepped out into the hall to finish talking and a nurse came in. She told me that there had been a fire and my home was gone, along with my mom. Before I could say more, because I was going to tell her what actually happened, Tammy came back in, and the nurse left.”

“What did Tammy say about it all?”

I look over at Atlas. “Nothing. Anytime I brought stuff up, she'd say now isn't the time. I only stayed one more night after I woke up before they let me leave. I don’t think I was supposed to leave, but it seemed like they all listened to Tammy. No cops ever came in and talked to me. And once we left the hospital, I had planned on trying to make Tammy talk to me, but…”

I clear my throat, memories threaten to surface, but I force them back down in a box. Now is not the time to dump all my shit on them.

“But she never brought it up again and wouldn't talk about it,” I say in a detached voice.

When I look over at Brielle, she looks like she has questions, but after a quick glance at Atlas, who shakes his head, she stands and comes over to me with tears running down her cheeks, and she holds her arms open hesitantly. I go to shake my head and tell her no but then I remember, this is Brielle. Someone my mom loved and cared deeply for. Someone who could have hurt me in any way over the last few weeks and has done nothing but shown me kindness instead.

---