Collateral Damage (From the Damage) (9 page)

BOOK: Collateral Damage (From the Damage)
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“Kelly,” Daphne asked, breaking into her thoughts of jealousy and confusion. “Have things been going any better at home?”

She glanced nervously at Kendall before she answered, her stomach sinking when Kendall raised an eyebrow at her in question. “Yeah. A lot better.”

“Good. What about you, Meagan? Aside from the broken leg.”

“Honestly…things are getting intense. But all I’ve done lately is talk about it, so I’m all talked out right now. Maybe some other time?”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Daphne assured her. “Since nobody seems to be in a chatty mood, how about a journal assignment? I want you to write about a childhood memory. Just the first one that comes to mind.”

There was a soft scuffle in the room as everybody took out their journals and opened them. Daphne sat back in her chair, studying the expressions on their faces as they wrote.

The assignment took up the rest of the hour, and before long the group was dismissed. As the teens scattered, Daphne caught up with Kay by the door. She tapped the girl’s shoulder and pulled her aside. “Do you have a minute?” Daphne asked.

“Sure.” Kay stepped back to let Kelly and Kendall, who were still bickering about something, pass by. “What’s up?”

Daphne waited until Meagan, moving slowly but confidently along on those crutches, left. Once they were alone, Daphne spoke again. “I just wanted to check in and see how things were going with that ex-boyfriend. Sometimes those kinds of relationships can be difficult to end.”

Kay stared at Daphne, puzzled.

“The one who was abusive,” Daphne reminded her gently.

“Right.” Kay chuckled
nervously, once again surprised by her own lies and the lengths she’d go to in order to protect her father. “Everything’s fine.”

“You’re so very convincing,” Daphne said with a smile. “Want to try that again?”

Kay moved to the bulletin board to put some space between them. “Honestly, it’s been a little harder to get away than I’d thought. But the…the hitting has stopped,” she added quickly, afraid Daphne would have to take action if she thought Kay was in physical danger.

“It’s stopped?” Daphne moved toward the other end of the bulletin board, but gave Kay the space she needed. “Or it’s stopped for now?”

Though she pretended to be reading a flyer about babysitting, Kay let Daphne’s words sink in. Once she really thought about it, she knew her father would never change. Leading her to the terrifying realization that she would have to initiate the change she wanted, and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough. “I guess we’ll see,” Kay finally whispered.

Daphne let the silence linger for a little bit before she finally turned around and leaned against the bulletin board, turning her focus to Kay. “My ex-husband was abusive,” she said, taking Kay by surprise. “Every situation is different, but it leaves me a little more understanding than most. I know how it can mess with your head; make you blame yourself for all sorts of stupid things. Before long…the line between
you
and
him
starts to blur, then disappears altogether. It’s a very destructive, tough cycle to break.”

Kay gazed at Daphne, trying to imagine this strong, smart and compassionate doctor getting slapped around in the middle of the night. The images just didn’t fit together. It seemed like Daphne knew how to stand up for
herself, and Kay wondered how she could have ever allowed something so demeaning continue. “I’m sorry,” Kay said, realizing she was staring. “You just seem so…in control. I had no idea.”

“I just wanted you to know that I understand,” she said, giving that familiar and comforting half-smile to reinforce her words. “And I’m here to help any way I can. If you’ll let me.”

Part of her wanted nothing more than to sit down and spill the entire story, tell Daphne everything. But the loyalty to her father, reinforced for years by those heavy, brutal fists, was stronger. She edged toward the door, giving Daphne a heartfelt, “Thanks. I’ll remember that.”

***

Ryder

***

Ryder shifted uncomfortably on the lumpy, worn out mattress he’d thrown his blanket over. He hadn’t bothered to unpack yet, and probably wouldn’t for the next week or so. With earbuds stuffed into his ears, he listened to a playlist on his iPod and stared at the ceiling.

Sophia had escorted him to Cornerstone this afternoon, and he’d been lying here like this ever since. It wasn’t that he minded, really. It didn’t bother him that the food sucked, or that viruses tended to spread like wildfire. He didn’t even really care that his roommate was a scrawny ten-year-old. But he always got a little moody whenever he was transferred from one foster home to another. It made him think of his parents, and he hated it when they were on his mind. On one hand, why should he think of them at all? He was sure they never gave a passing thought to him—if they did, how could they leave him like this? But on the other, they were his parents. They were supposed to give him a home, and love and support and all of those other things he hadn’t been able to call his own in years.

After his mother left when he was seven, his dad checked out emotionally. But Ryder had adjusted. He became accustomed to microwave dinners, cold Poptarts and coming home to find his dad passed out on the couch. At first he just thought he slept a lot. It wasn’t until a year later, when he took what he thought was an aspirin and spent the next two days loopy, that he realized his dad’s sleep was medically induced. It turned out that the pill wasn’t aspirin, but morphine, and he could’ve really gotten hurt.

His dad had yelled at him good for that one. Not because of the danger involved, but because the dent he’d put in his dad’s stash. Like that one little pill had made a difference.

He was twelve when his dad took off for a poker game one night, giving Ryder strict instructions to stay in the house and go to bed on time, and never came back.

For two weeks, he took care of himself. Living off of fried bologna sandwiches and dry cereal, forging his father’s signature on school forms, getting
himself up for school on time every morning. All the while dodging questions from the nosey neighbor next door, who wanted to know why she never saw his dad’s car anymore.

He’d watched the news constantly and used couch-change to buy newspapers the day they came out, searching for any sign that his dad was injured or worse. When he found no trace of his dad, he began to tell himself stories to explain his absence. He’d been caught cheating in the poker game, was jumped and now wandered around without his memory. He’d been abducted by aliens. He was secretly searching for his mom, and didn’t want Ryder to know because he didn’t want to get his hopes up. And every day he told himself that tomorrow, his dad would come home. And things would go back to normal. As horrible as normal was, he missed it.

Near the end of the second week, the neighbor finally called social services. The first few times he didn’t answer the door when they knocked. Instead, he'd hurried to his room and hid under the bed, listening to each knock with fear and despair. Then it finally dawned on him that they might know where his dad was, so he answered the door the next time. And before he knew it, he was whisked away. To ‘home’ after ‘home’ after ‘home’, with the occasional visit to Cornerstone in between.

For two years, he told himself this was only temporary. His dad would come claim him eventually, straighten this whole mess out with some very good explanation. There had to be a good reason he’d just left Ryder to fend for himself, right? But the rescue and the reasons never came.

The phone in his pocket started vibrating, sucking him out of the painful past and into the miserable present. With a sigh, he yanked one of the earbuds out and took out his phone. Seeing Meagan’s name on the caller ID, he covered his face with one hand and prepped himself for the façade. The one that showed cool collected Ryder who could handle any bully, any crisis.

“Hey Meg,” he said, answering the phone. “What’s up?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said, her voice sounding concerned. “You missed the meeting today.”

“Right. The meeting.” He’d completely forgotten about it, not that it would’ve done much good right now anyway. “I’ve been a little under the weather lately.”

“You sound like it.”

So much for the façade, he thought. “Sorry. I’ll make it to the next one.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just a cold.”

“Want me to bring you some chicken noodle soup?”

That brought a smile to him. No matter what was going on, Meagan had a way of doing that. “That’s sweet, but I’m alright. How are you, anyway? Your leg doing okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“And Seth?” he asked. “Is he leaving you alone?”

“For now,” she said with what sounded like a weary sigh that made him think she wasn’t being completely honest. “Hopefully for good.”

“Let me know if he doesn’t,” he said.

“I will.”

Another call rang in and he pulled the phone away to read the caller ID again. This time it was Daphne. “Daphne’s calling.”

“She said she would.”

“I better take it before she tracks me down,” he said with a small laugh that came out sounding heavy and forced. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure,” she said. “Talk to you later.”

He transferred to Daphne’s call. “Hey.”

“Ryder, it’s Daphne. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” he said, momentarily distracted as the bedroom door opened and his roommate came in. the boy was wearing oversized pajamas and had a head of wet, dark hair. He carried a towel in one hand as he dragged his feet across the room to the closet. “I’ve just been sick,” he said, returning his focus to the ceiling.

“You sure that’s all?”

“Yep. Must’ve picked up a bug while I was visiting Meagan at the hospital.”

“I see,” she said. After a minute, she added, “I spoke with your social worker this afternoon.”

His jaw clenched in annoyance. “Why would you do that?” 

“She was giving me an address update for your file,” she said.

Of course
, he thought. The social workers always kept the doctors and the schools up to date. It was kind of a pain, like everyone was talking about him behind his back.

“How are you adjusting?” she asked.

“It’s no big deal. It’s not like it hasn’t happened a dozen times before.”

“People can be flakey,” she said, as if trying to implicate that this wasn’t his fault without having to come right out and say it. “But, if you need to talk about it—”

“I know,” he said. “Thanks. Listen, it’s time for evening check-in. but I promise I’ll make it next time, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, sounding a little worried. “And if you need me…”

“I’ll call,” he promised, though he wasn’t sure he’d keep it. “Thanks.”

He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the bed.

The boy sat down on the other twin bed, across the room. “You don’t look sick.”

“I lied.”

“Oh. Who was it?” he asked, in that over-curious way kids tended to do.

“Your mom,” Ryder snapped.


Really
?” The hopeful, excited look that crossed the boy’s face made a knot of guilt wedge in Ryder’s gut.

He sighed, shaking his head. Apparently, this kid was still in that hopeful stage. “No. I was just being a dick.”

“Oh,” he said, his expression falling.

He sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry.”

But the boy’s gaze lowered to the carpet, his face filling with the lost and confused expression Ryder knew all too well.

“What’s your name again?”

“Bradley.”

“Bradley,” Ryder repeated so he’d remember it. “When you’ve been in the system as long as I have, you tend to get bitter. If I’m mean, just know it’s nothing personal. ’Kay?”

He nodded, looking a little relieved.

Ryder stood up and grabbed his leather jacket. “I’m gonna go for a drive. See you later.”

But the boy stood, following him. “Where you going?”

“Nowhere,” Ryder said, stopping at the door. “That’s the point.”

“Can I come?”

“Sorry,” he said. “I don’t think they’d let you.”

Bradley nodded, like he’d figured as much, and Ryder left. He stopped only long enough to sign out at the front desk, then he hopped on his motorcycle and took off. As he drove, speeding down the road, he wished he could just keep driving forever.

Chapter
5

Kay

 

Standing in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, Kay twirled to get a better look at her outfit.

She’d wanted to wear her favorite black mini-skirt, but the bruise just above her knee had forced her into a pair of black dress pants with pink pinstripes. When she paired it with a hot-pink halter, it made the outfit look a little more casual.

It was the big night. Her date with Alex, and to say she was nervous would’ve been a huge understatement. She was terrified, excited and dreadful all at once. What if she said something stupid? What if he stood her up? What if, what if?

Forcing herself to remain positive got her through the anxiety.

As she turned, she caught sight of a purplish-blue mark between her shoulder blades and groaned.

She didn’t want to change again-she’d already gone through half her wardrobe. It was amazing that, even though he didn’t know about the date, her dad still found a way to make it difficult for her.

Digging through her closet, she found a black cropped jacket and slid it on. Then she gave a satisfied smile and sat down to touch up her makeup.

Her cell phone rang in a text message from Alex.

Heading out. U sure I can’t pick you up?

She smiled, typing back:

Better not. Sneaking out to avoid the
Soldier’s ?s.

She was applying lip-gloss when his reply came in.

Meet u there then. Can’t wait ;)

 

Amazingly, she managed to sneak down the stairs and out the front door without any complications. Her dad must’ve been in the basement working out.

Once she was in her car, she was home-free. She drove to the lake, where they’d agreed to meet, and the butterflies in her stomach began to violently flap their wings when she saw Alex’s sports car parked by the docks.

He was leaned against the front bumper, gazing out at the lake when she pulled up and parked.

She got out of the car and walked up to him. When he turned to her, and smiled, any uneasiness disappeared.

“Wow,” he whispered, looking her up and down. Then he cleared his throat. “You’re gorgeous.”

Her cheeks burned. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

He was wearing a navy-blue button down shirt, with one of the sleeves rolled up just past his cast. Paired with dark wash blue-jeans, he looked casually stunning like he always did.

For a second, they just stared at each other, smiling. Then Alex stepped aside and motioned to the dock, where a boat was roped to the far side.

“Hope you don’t have anything against open water. I thought we could go for a ride.”

* **

Alex gently took Kay’s hand as he helped her onto his father’s boat. The smile that curved her lips when she spotted the romantic dinner for two he’d set up filled him with joy. It’d been awhile since he’d been on a first date, even longer since he’d been so nervous about one.

“Wow, you went all out,” she said turning to look at the candlelit dinner. White Christmas lights
hung decoratively along the rails and the mast.  “Must have took forever…especially with one arm.”

“Nah, I had some help.”

“Fairies and elves?”

Alex laughed, “Yeah, those suckers can work fast.” He moved closer
, coming up behind her. “Here let me get your coat.”

He pulled the cropped leather jacket off her shoulders just about the same time she started to protest, and that’s when he spotted it. The bluish purple bruise that lay between her shoulder blades, the imprint of something her father had probably thrown her down on. He heard her inhale an unsteady breath, and she looked over her shoulder. Her big blue eyes filled with uncertainty, waiting for him to say something. Would he casually act like he hadn’t seen it? Would he question her about it and put a damper on their night? No. Instead he lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips along it, barely touching her.

“Does it hurt?” He asked.

“Not anymore.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

He bent slightly, pressed his lips against it, he could almost feel the sensation that seared from his body into hers. Something sensual and deep, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms tightly around her.  He pressed his lips against her ears. “You’re safe now.”

There it was. She smiled again. He loved to see her smile. He pulled out her chair and she took a seat. He sat down across from her.

“So how’d you get it to be so warm? It’s November, and it feels like July.” Kay asked, taking a sip of the water in her wineglass.

“I made a deal with mother nature.” He lifted the top of the silver tray, revealing their food. Chicken with Penne noodles, covered in pasta sauce and served with vegetables. It smelled delicious.

“Oh you did? Wow that looks really good.”

Alex smiled, “I promised her that if she let us have an awesome night, I’d never litter again.”

Kay laughed, “Who made this?”

“I did.” Alex served a portion onto her plate.

“You cook?”

“Surprising, I know.”

“Looks like you pulled out all the stops.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth it.” Kay dipped her head, allowing the proud smile to take over. If she hadn’t been crazy about Alex already, she definitely was now.

***

Kendall

***

Kendall walked around the park, located only ten minutes from Clearwater Elementary. She hadn’t been there in years, and was surprised by how different things looked. In her memories, she saw it differently. Or maybe she imagined it differently. She wasn’t sure which.

Mulch cracked under her feet as she walked past the see-saw and continued to the slide, nursing on a large bottle of liquor, teetering around the half-way point and soon to be gone. She sat down at the foot of the slide, resting her elbows on her knees and tilting her head to look toward the swing set.

It was perfectly still, like a picture or a freeze frame and not something real. Even the leather seats dangling by chains didn’t sway in the cool breeze. The tall and thick wooden frame cast an elongated shadow across the ground, highlighted by the streetlight a few feet away. And behind the swing set, shrubs led the way to a thicket of trees, the trunks and branches forming impenetrable shadows in the dead of night.

She shivered as she looked into the darkness. Then, tilting her head back, she took another long gulp of alcohol and relaxed against the slide. Trying to stare up at the sky, she felt her attention being drawn toward the woods. It was really starting to creep her out, even before she heard the soft footsteps on the sidewalk.

She didn’t move a muscle, didn’t budge an inch,
didn’t take a breath, like her sole purpose right now was to remain invisible, unseen. Protected. Soon, a shadow stretched out alongside the slide, stretching further and further as the footsteps came closer and closer, until she could make out a tall, slender man.

By now, she knew she’d been detected, but she still couldn’t move. Still stuck in panic-and-hide mode, she stayed perfectly still, but her mind raced with a million different paranoid questions about the man, his intentions in the park, and most importantly, would he hurt her?

Turning, Seth’s face came into the light and she released the breath she was holding, but didn’t get up. “Scare the hell outta someone why don’t you?”

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Why are
you
here?”

He shrugged, looking around. “I come here all the time.”

Still laying on the slide, she sat up just enough to take a drink and then let her body slouch back down again. “That’s morbid,” she said, coughing against the bitter taste of alcohol.

“I know.” He reached down and took the bottle from her hands, taking a drink of it before he repeated softly, “I know.”

She looked toward the swing set now, watching as the swings swayed gently in the cool breeze. “I came back here for a reason,” she said, looking up at him. “To figure out what happened back then.”

“Kendall, what are you talking about?”

She sat up on the slide, reaching out to take her alcohol back. “I can’t remember how we got home,” she said. “It’s like there’s gaps in my memory. First we’re here, then we’re in some basement, then we’re home, then we’re back in the basement. It’s all jumbled and confusing I don’t know how the hell to sort it all out.”

He simply stared at her, like he didn’t understand at all, or he didn’t care. His voice was quiet and calm as he said, “It’s in the past. Just let it go.”

She stood up and crossed the mulch until she came to the balance beam. Taking a good long look at it, she passed the bottle of Jack over to Seth and pushed up her sleeves. Lifting herself on to the beam, she placed her feet heel-to-toe and stretched her arms out for balance. Taking her first step, she said, “I’m hoping that putting the pieces together will help me do that.”

“We swore we’d never talk about it
.”

“Back then. But things are different now, Seth.” She looked down at the wooden plank as she steadily crossed it. “I need to know.”

“Trust me, you don’t.”

Reaching the end of the balance beam, she turned to face him and started back the other way, teetering a little from her buzz. “Why not?”

“You just don’t, okay?”

“I’ll decide that,” she said. “Just fill in the blanks for me, okay? Seth, please?”

“Kendall, I can’t,” he said. “I won’t.”

She stopped in front of him, staring down at him from her spot on the balance beam. She couldn’t believe he would deny her this, something she had every right to know. Something she desperately needed to know. Finally, she reached out, yanked the alcohol from his hands and brought it to her lips. Tilting her head back, she chugged until every drop was gone. It took at least a minute, but she drank without even coming up for air. Her head swam when
she finished, and the world blurred in and out of focus. She coughed against the acrid taste, but soon the discomfort was gone, leaving her with that floating, intoxicated feeling she loved. The numbness she was always searching for.

Seth filled most of her vision as he looked at her with that knowing, slightly disappointed but compassionate expression, and it made her hate him.

Who was he to act like he understood her, when he didn’t? If he did, he’d give her the information she needed, so she wouldn’t always have to wonder what was real and what wasn’t. The not knowing was killing her, driving her to choices like the one she’d just made. A choice she was beginning to regret as the liquid swirled in her stomach, burning like it might come right back up.

Acting on her hate toward him, she hurled the bottle at him, missing wildly. The glass hit the mulch with a soft thud.

“You have…half…haveta…” her tongue was heavy and her voice slurred. She swayed on her feet as her head started to spin faster. And suddenly, the scene was shifting, the mulch filling her vision as she tumbled forward, the ground rushing toward her. Jutting out his arms, Seth caught her, one hand behind her knees, the other behind her back. Before she even realized she was in danger, she was safe in his arms. Wrapping an arm instinctively around his neck, she leaned into his ear, but couldn’t quite lower her voice to a whisper as she said, “Tell me.”

Locking his gaze on hers, he studied her, gaze raking over her in an expression hinting at a bond that was much deeper than they were supposed to share.

Like an expert, she detected the lust in his eyes and used it. Biting her lip, she raised an eyebrow suggestively. “I’ll do…
anything
.”

He narrowed his eyes, looking shocked and a little disgusted. But the second the words were out,
she felt sick. She felt the liquor burning her stomach and her throat as it rose higher and higher…

Just in time, Seth dropped her to her feet and turned her to face the balance beam. She dashed over to it, grabbing on to the wood as she leaned over and puked on the other side. Seth reached up to hold her hair back and out of
the way. Her head spinning, whirring with dizziness and fatigue, she puked for what felt like hours. When her stomach was finally empty, she wiped her mouth and sat up, leaning her elbows on the beam. Letting her hair fall, Seth stepped back, looking at her sympathetically.

“I have to know the truth,” she whispered. 

He was quiet for a minute. Finally, shaking his head, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a package of gum and handed her a piece. After she took it, he crossed his arms and looked at her, choosing his words carefully. “The truth is a tricky thing. It’s complicated. It hurts people. And I think you’ve been hurt enough.”

“My
hero
,” she spat, standing up. She turned, aiming herself toward the sidewalk and took a step. Though she was stumbling and swaying, she headed toward the park exit.

“Kendall, wait. Come on,” he called, still over by the balance beam. “Where are you going?”

She reached out, placing her hand on the swing set frame for balance. Looking over at the swings, she remembered the first time she’d met Seth. They were ten or twelve, and she’d been playing here by herself while her mom was ‘at the store’ which was code for meeting her drug dealer. He came out of nowhere and offered to push her swing. Charming and playful, he’d made her crush on him almost instantly. She’d never stood a chance.

BOOK: Collateral Damage (From the Damage)
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