Heart Of Marley (22 page)

“This. What you’ve been doing all month! You’re treating me like I’m about to crack. I’m not delicate so stop treating me like this, Doug. I’m sick of it!”

I began to walk away and he reached out, grabbing my arm.

“Marley, I’m just worried about you…”

“Well, stop!” I hissed. “And get your fucking hand off me!”

He released his grasp, surprised at the tone of my voice. As I retreated from him, I felt a hint of guilt for behaving that way, but I brushed it off. I continued past the library, not caring about the potential ramifications of skipping class. I didn’t want to be around anyone. I just wanted to be alone.

I ran to the theater department and climbed the spiral stairs up to the catwalk, happy to have a moment of peace. But I still felt the hurt. It had been there since Halloween. Nothing was stopping it. Doug’s changed behavior was eating me up as the realization washed over me that he no longer looked at me with the adoration that was once in his eyes. Now there was a look of sorrow and condolence in his expression.

Rummaging through my bag as I sat on the catwalk, I found what I was looking for. Sliding my skirt up, I saw the red marking on my inner thigh. It had grown dull over the past few months, Doug’s not love having muted my need to release the anguish through that blade.

Grabbing the razor, I dug into my skin, the physical pain taking my mind off the horrors of my past. I traced over the word that I had cut into my thigh the night that I won the Junior Miss Myrtle Beach Pageant nearly two years ago…
Ruined
. The word was a reminder to me that no matter what I thought, my life was forever ruined.

Letting out a breath, I carved the word over and over again, each time drawing more and more blood, my inner demons releasing through the act. Finally feeling sated, I placed the razor back in its hiding spot and grabbed a few bandages, covering up my blood-stained thigh.

A loud door closing startled me and I quickly readjusted my skirt and hid the bandages in my bag. Looking up, I saw Brianna in the doorway, her hair disheveled and a look of complete fear and panic on her face. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to readjust her demeanor, running her hands through her hair to fix it.

“Hi, Marley.”

“Hey, Bri. Rough morning?”

She laughed slightly and rolled her eyes. “Rough couple of years is more like it.” She made her way toward me and sat down. “How about you?”

I shrugged. “Rough few weeks, I guess. I feel better now, though.”

“How?” She met my eyes, pleading with me to tell her how to make the pain stop.

I hesitated. No one knew about my cutting, other than my aunt and only because of the pageants. Of course, she told no one about it and pretended it didn’t happen. I insinuated something to this effect when I told Doug about my past, but I didn’t go into any details. I was pretty sure he would be horrified if he knew the extent of my need to self-mutilate. This was the one thing I had that no one knew about. This was the one thing I had that was all mine. And I hated the thought of Brianna hurting herself thinking that it would help. I knew it was destructive. I knew it was abnormal. But, at the same time, it was liberating when I felt the blade dig into my skin and release all the anguish that had built up since the last time I cut. It was the only thing that could release the hurt and trauma.

“Nothing, Bri,” I replied. “Sometimes having a minute alone to forget is the best medicine.”

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked, about to get up.

“No. We can be alone together. I don’t mind.”

She nodded and stared straight ahead. It was silent for a brief moment before she spoke again.

“Doug’s acting differently toward you, isn’t he? I noticed it during lunch the past few weeks. He used to have this heat in his eyes like he was ready to just attack you… In a good way, of course.”

I giggled. It felt good to talk to Brianna about it. “Yeah. Now it’s like he’s walking on glass around me. I hate it. I’m the same exact Marley I was before I told him, but he’s not the same Doug.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, too.”

“A
UNT
T
ERRYN
! I’
M
HOME
!” I called out, walking into the foyer of our house after getting home from school.

Looking around, I wondered where everyone was. “Uncle Graham?” I continued past the living room and kitchen, and into the back hallway, pausing outside a closed wooden door. Knocking softly, I listened for any movement.

My heart racing at the thought of getting caught, I carefully opened the door to my uncle’s office. I strode to his desk, taking out a paperclip and picking the lock of the drawer. When I promised Marley that I would see if I could find out where Buck lived, I was thankful when she never brought up the subject again. Over the past few months, I had tried to brush off my own anxiety about the situation, but nothing worked. I needed to know.

Flipping through file after file, I became despondent when all I ran across were folders full of bills, report cards, and community service programs my uncle’s church sponsored. Just when I was about to give up, I stumbled across a folder marked with a set of digits, almost like a case number.

Opening it, the contents made me sick to my stomach…photos of Marley’s beaten body, transcripts of her sealed testimony during the trial, reports of previous accounts of Buck’s abuse. I almost put it all back, not wanting to look at any more reminders of the past that still tormented Marley. Then, my eyes settled on a Notice of Release, accompanied by what appeared to be correspondence between Buck and my uncle.

“What the…?” I seethed with anger at the thought that he had been writing to Buck while he was in prison. Furious, I continued snooping through the file, my blood boiling as I scanned the transcript of Buck’s parole hearing to see that my uncle testified on his behalf, saying that he had found God, had repented for his sins, and was no longer a danger to society. Because of my uncle, Marley’s abuser and tormentor was now free. Turning back to the Notice of Release, I jotted down the address on a piece of spare paper, quickly locked the desk, and ran out of his office and up to my room.

I didn’t think that I could ever look at my uncle the same way again. I understood that he divined strength and power from God and his church, but I couldn’t comprehend how any man, no matter whether a man of the cloth or not, could forgive his own niece’s abuser and encourage the state to release him, then try to cover it up. I knew instantly what I had to do. I had to go check on Buck for myself.

Looking at the address I had scribbled on a piece of paper, I pulled out a local map, surprised again that he lived no more than thirty minutes away from us. As I hastily highlighted the route, I heard the front door open, followed by Marley’s heavy footsteps running up the stairs.

Tossing a few items into my backpack, I knew I needed to come up with some excuse for leaving the house.

“Hi, Cam,” Marley said, throwing the door to my room open and plopping down on my bed. “Working tonight?”

“No. You?”

“Yeah.”

“Where were you at lunch today?” I asked, trying to hide my nerves. “Doug was worried.”

“He should be,” she spat.

“What’s going on with you guys?” I eyed her with a concerned look.

“Don’t worry about it, Cam. It’s nothing. I’m just a little anxious about the Thanksgiving Day parade. That’s all.”

“It’ll be fine, Mar.” It was silent and I could tell that there was something else on her mind. “Spill it.”

“Did you see the feature on the Jessamine Pageant in the paper?” Her voice was quiet and edgy.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Just…what if Buck saw it and is able to find out where I live because of it? What if he’s…?”

“Marley, you need to stop dwelling on this. I’m starting to see why Uncle Graham and Aunt Terryn didn’t want you to know.”

“What?!” she exclaimed before lowering her voice. “How could you side with them, Cam? How could you even say that I shouldn’t know he’s out there roaming the streets, possibly victimizing another girl like he did…?”

“Marley, you need to have faith in the justice system. He must have been granted parole for a reason,” I said, unable to even believe the words coming out of my mouth. “Perhaps he truly did see the error of his ways and was able to get the help he needed when he was locked up.”

“Do
you
think he did?”

I shrugged. “I have to. It’s the only way I can refrain from hunting him down and finishing the job that I started six years ago.” Our eyes met and I hoped that she couldn’t see the truth behind my lies. “I have to go, Mar.”

She scrunched her eyebrows. “I thought you didn’t have to work.”

“I don’t. I have plans.”

“With Brianna?” she asked in a flirtatious manner.

“No. With a few of the guys. It’s a school thing. Brianna’s working tonight.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re a horrible liar. You expect me to believe that you’re working on school stuff on a Friday night?”

“I’m not you, Marley. I don’t mind doing homework on Friday.”

She shook her head and raised herself off my bed. “Okay. Whatever, Cam. Have fun studying on a Friday night, loser.”

I chuckled, inwardly hoping she wouldn’t see through my deception.

Grabbing my backpack, I headed out of the house and jumped in my Wrangler. I took out the map and scanned the route I had highlighted. I felt awful for keeping this from Marley, but she needed to continue moving forward instead of dwelling on her past. Still, I needed peace of mind. Cranking the engine, I drove away from the beach and inland to Conway.

As I sat on Buck’s street, my eyes trained down the road at his two-story house in a very middle-class section of town, I absently wondered where he worked and whether he lived with anyone. I hoped that he was living with his parents, a pathetic excuse for an existence at the age of forty-six, but I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get my wish.

Hours passed and I remained there, unable to leave. I was desperate for answers. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was nearly eleven o’clock. Marley would be home from work and would be wondering where I was. Just as I was about to give up for the night, a car drove past me and pulled into the driveway of Buck’s house. Fishing the binoculars out of my bag, I looked through them, spotting the man that ruined my sister.

He ran around the car and opened the passenger door, helping a woman to her feet before planting a sensual kiss on her lips. It was the same woman we saw with Buck in Charleston two months ago. They walked to the front of the house and she grabbed a set of keys from her purse, unlocking the door as if she lived there, too.

Marley couldn’t know.

T
ODAY
WAS
THE
DREADFUL
Thanksgiving Day parade here in our sleepy little beach community. I remember moving here and being so excited about watching the parade. Everything back then was exciting…even the “Little Miss” pageants my aunt entered me in. The parents would “ooh” and “ah” over how adorable we all looked with our fluffy pink dresses, hair in curls, makeup on, making us appear more mature than we were. They would laugh as we walked down the stage with all the attitude we could muster, posing in front of the judges like we had been trained. They would cheer when we won. That first pageant when I was named the winner and the spotlight was on me, I was so excited…especially when I saw the proud look on my aunt’s face.