Page 50 of Surface Scratch
“You need to get in the truck,” she said sternly.
He shook his head. “I can’t do it.”
Her nostrils flared and she poked him in the chest again. “Yes, you can,” she hissed at him. “There are God knows how many of those hunter fuckers out there who want my dad dead, and they won’t stop at him. They’ll kill both of us first just for a fucking laugh and then they’ll kill Tariq and Vincent and Dad and anyone else who ever said as much as a hello to them. If you give a single fuck about him, you’ll come with me.”
Her words turned to daggers and buried themselves in his chest. Caleb gritted his teeth, pain tearing through him so deep it ached into his back. He closed his eyes, flushing another volley of tears down his cheeks, his jaw aching as he clenched it as hard as he could to control his breathing.
He wouldn’t lose anyone else.
Eyes still squeezed shut, he held out a trembling hand. “Take me to the car,” he said through his teeth.
Ophelia stayed silent as she grabbed his hand and gently pulled him forward. His legs weighed a thousand pounds, each step requiring him to tell his muscles and joints to move as they attempted to root him to the sidewalk. He felt her hand guide his to a handle and his throat constricted, recognizing the feeling of a car’s interior. She nudged his back, her touch still surprisingly gentle as she directed him to take a step up.
He felt blindly along the seat until his hand hit something hard and plastic, probably the center console, and slowly set himself down into the seat. Each breath felt like it took every muscle in his body to complete as Ophelia leaned over him, her hair tickling his face and smelling of something fruity. He tried to focus on that, but the clicking of the seatbelt buckle made him jump.
I got this. I can do this. It’s been years. I can do it.He was utterly unconvinced, particularly when Ophelia slammed the door shut. His head was practically between his knees when the truck’s engine roared to life, as though making himself smaller would make the experience better. He kept breathing through his nose and holding his breath, just barely keeping this flood of panic at bay as he lurched forward with the movement of the truck pulling away from the curb.
“Ask me a question,” Ophelia said, the tone of her voice telling him it wasn’t optional.
“W-what?” He winced at the sound of the road beneath the floorboards. There was a time in his life when the sound of the road made him fall asleep. Now, it was a reminder of a life that had changed too quickly and how much of himself he’d lost. He’d barely been a person after the accident happened, and any sense of self he’d had prior to it was buried under years of fear and anxiety, and a desperate, misguided desire to avoid pain of any kind that had backfired spectacularly.
“I need you to not be a fucking mess when we get there, so focus,” she said. “Keep counting your breaths and use this opportunity to ask me something.”
Caleb laced his fingers behind his neck, still refusing to open his eyes. His mind raced from horrifying intrusive thought to horrifying intrusive memory, determined to make him forget the reason he’d let Ophelia push him into the truck. Digging his heels into the floor mats, he took another deep breath in through his nose.One. Two. Three. Breathe out.
“Why do you want me to come with you?” he asked, his voice sharp and high.
Ophelia scoffed. “You have eyes, don’t you? I’m not an idiot. I can handle myself in most situations, but I’m not walking into what is ostensibly a drug den by myself without backup,” she said. Caleb couldn’t see her, but he just knew she was rolling her big brown eyes. “Plus, you’re a good cover if his nosy neighbors decide to show up.”
Oh, okay. I’m a human shield.Oddly, the honesty made him feel better for a moment. He heard her mutter a string of curses under her breath as she placed a hand on his back before the suspension of the truck jostled him in his seat, his body tensing and folding further in on itself. It was either one of the city’s many potholes or a speed bump, but he couldn’t tell for sure without looking. And there was no way he was going to look.
The position he sat in paired with the nausea made him place his hands over his mouth.
“Focus. Ask another.” She patted his back. Her touch was firm and confident—almost motherly.
He let out a shaky breath and swallowed rapidly, his mouth watering as the stomach acid rose and burned his throat.Don’t puke. Don’t puke. Just ask her something.
“Did Marcus really kill your parents or did you just say that to mess with my head?”
“He only killed my dad,” she said, not an ounce of sadness or remorse in her voice. “I killed my mom.”
Caleb’s eyes bulged open, staring down at the floor mat. “What?” He wanted to look up at her and see if she was doing her usual devilish grin, but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the water beading on his shoes and the floor mat. He was okay so far, but if he saw any of the road, it would make the whole thing too real.
“Do you want to know why?”
Holy shit, she’s being serious. She killed her own mom?
“My birth parents were not cut out for parenting,” she began unprompted, still gently patting his back. “They didn’t know what to do with a kid like me. I guess I was always not right to them, even as a baby. I don’t know if they were fucked up before they had me, but they certainly were after. My mom used to get drunk and cry a lot, usually just before she got pissed and begged me to hug her or laugh like a normal kid. I never did. I don’t like people touching me. By the time I was eight, I guess they were just done with me.”
Caleb’s breath faltered. “Done?”
“Mmhm, done. Like, ‘leave the cat in a cornfield’ done. I think the only reason they didn’t just pack up in the middle of the night and leave was because eventually I would have wandered out and told someone that I was all alone. Did you know that’s a felony? So my mom came up with the idea to find someone who wanted to buy a kid online, that way they could get some money to fuel their gambling and alcohol habits and get rid of me at the same time.” Her voice didn’t waver once, her tone drawling on with the same bored tone Caleb was used to. It didn’t make a lick of sense to him. How could she be so nonchalant about that?
“I guess my dad was running his mouth to the wrong people. One night, they packed me a suitcase and were ready to send me off. I think they told me I was going to summer camp or something, but I knew they were lying. At some point, Marcus and Vincent showed up to take me.” She pulled her hand from his back. “I didn’t come out of my room until I heard my mother screaming, just absolutely wailing, and that’s when I saw them kill my dad.”
“Jesus Christ.” Caleb shook his head. “That must have been awful.” Her attempt to calm him and keep him from thinking about what was happening was actually working. He stayed hunched over with his feet on the ground, but he wasn’t counting his breaths anymore, and the ringing had gone at some point. Now, all he could think about was how horrifying that must have been for her.
“Not really. My father was a piece of shit. Vincent took his time with him, and Marcus put him out of his misery.” The softness in her voice was gone, once again lapsing back into her usual deadpan. She must have noticed that his body had relaxed. “It had only been a couple months since they dealt with the Society, so I think they just wanted to hurt people. You’d think a couple of old farts like them would be less attached, but that kid getting burned alive really fucked with their heads. They went through a whole phase of looking for assholes who hurt kids just so they could rip them apart. That’s how they found me.”
