Page 80 of Pumpkin
“Hm?” she questioned.
“You said ‘finally’. Were you not wearing them during the summer?”
Her smile brightened. “I was! It felt amazing!”
Her response only had his hackles rising higher. “Have you ever worn short sleeves before?”
She shook her head. “Not since I was a little girl. Billy did not permit me to wear them here.” Pennsylvania had some hot summers, especially up here in the mountains. Hell, during the summer months, Pumpkin rarely wore any shirts. Before he could reply, Yelizaveta held out her arms and then she said something that changedeverything:“No more Billy, no more bruises.”
Pumpkin felt like a caged animal.He wanted to pace so badly, and the stiffness in his legs only made him even more frustrated. He’d hidden his reaction from Yelizaveta as best he could. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her, especially when no amount of his rage was pointed ather.
The clubhouse doors opened and Ghost strode in. He looked like shit. His ginger hair was disheveled, he had a two-day-old beard on his face, and there were bags under his eyes. Pumpkin didn’t know who Lucky had sent to the station to replace him, but he was grateful. Ghost needed sleep just as much as Bulldog and Lucky did.
Pumpkin nodded to his brother, not saying anything because he didn’t want to stand between Ghost and his bed.
But Ghost must have seen something on his face because he paused. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing,” Pumpkin insisted. He was finally sitting on the couch, but was in no mood to take a nap. Yelizaveta was in the kitchen humming away as she made more cookies for the club brothers.
Ghost crossed his arms over his chest, unimpressed. “Want to try that again?”
Pumpkin glanced up at his brother and then away. If he couldn’tpace, maybe he could hit something. “Not unless you’re volunteering to be my punching bag.”
A ginger eyebrow went up. Then he crooked a finger. “Follow me.”
“I was kidding!” Well, not really, but Ghost needed to get some sleep.
“I wasn’t,” Ghost threw over his shoulder.
Pumpkin watched as his club brother walked under the stairs towards Steel’s office. As an officer, Ghost had a key. After a glance at the kitchen door where he could hear Yelizaveta’s soft humming, Pumpkin got himself off the couch and then followed Ghost. His cane clacked on the floor with each step.
Ghost held the office door open for Pumpkin and then closed it behind him. But he did not sit in Steel’s chair. That would have been fucking weird. Instead, he took one of the two chairs in front of Steel’s desk and then kicked the other one out to Pumpkin.
“First, tell me why you need a punching bag and then I’ll give you one,” he held up his pointer finger, “free shot.”
Pumpkin hobbled over to the chair. His skin felt uncomfortable, like he had ants crawling up and down his spine. He really did just want to punch something, but he supposed he owed Ghost an answer before taking a swing at him. “Billy Merrick used to hit Yelizaveta and Carter.”
Ghost did not look surprised by this news. Cracking his neck, he leaned forward on his knees. “I suspected as much.”
“You did?” Pumpkin’s eyebrows drew down. “She worked here for months before Merrick planted that bomb! Why didn’t you say or do anything?”
“Because I didn’t suspect untilafterhe was in our cellar.”
Pumpkin’s anger lessened. Slightly. “Oh.”
“Yelizaveta relaxed the moment Merrick went missing. It was like a weight was lifted off her shoulders. About a week after Merrick’s execution, she spilled some flour in the kitchen. Seemed simple enough, but she froze and the look in her eyes told me she expected a punishment for what she perceived as a transgression. I helped her clean it up and reassured her that everything was fine. When she wentto wash her hands in the sink, I saw the faint remnants of a bruise on her wrist.”
“He was in our cellar for over a week,” Pumpkin recalled.
Ghost nodded once, his expression grave. “Which meant that bruise was deep enough that it took nearly three weeks to heal.”
Pumpkin hated to ask, but felt he had to. “Did you think it was Carter? I don’t know much about autism, but I’ve heard Harper talk about how some can become physically violent when upset.”
“Not really,” Ghost told him. “Harper wouldn’t allow Carter around Scotty, Lila, and the other kids outside of school if he was prone to violence.”
Pumpkin sat back in the chair. “She was working here for months!Months!And we never knew. We never suspected.I,” he clarified, “never suspected.” He shook his head in disgust. “You should have heard the way she talked about him. It makes me wish we could kill him all over again or that he was still down in the cellar suffering. Execution was too good for the likes of him, because as happy as she is to no longer have bruises and injuries, she still blamesherselffor them. I know it’s her culture and how she was raised and then practicallysoldto be a bride, but shit, man, it was so fucking hard to just sit there and listen to her say those things. How she needed her husband to ‘correct’ her. She’s a legal citizen and yet it never occurred to her to try to leave him. In the end, it took her husband’s own stupidity to free her of him.”
It was microscopic. Just a twitch of an eye, but Pumpkin caught it. Staring at his brother, he asked, “What?”
