“What would they do to her?”
“You don’t want to know.”
Like hell I didn’t. I was already planning on going to California with my twelve-gauge. “What. Would. They. Do.”
He was quiet for so long I didn’t think he was going to answer. “When it first started, it was usually just hitting and kicking. The older she got, the more it turned into whatever they had in their hands or could grab quickly. Once that started, she only came over if it was other objects. She lived for the days when it was only hands.”
“So what I saw tonight, you said it isn’t the worst?”
“Not even close.”
“What was?”
Tyler sighed and looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t know, there were a few that really stood out, but I couldn’t name one that was the worst.”
I just kept glaring at him; he needed a beatin’ just for letting this go on for so long. She was seventeen or eighteen now, so she had been six or seven when this all started. And he’d known the entire time.
“A couple years ago, the cops showed up one night—”
“I thought you said she wouldn’t let you call?”
“I didn’t.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair a few times. “The old lady that lived in between us heard her screaming one night, called the cops.”
I shoved off the wall and flung my arms out. “You had a perfect opportunity and you still didn’t do anything? They didn’t do anything?!”
“Gage, I didn’t even know the cops were called until she texted me hours after they’d left!”
“What happened?” I demanded, and forced myself back against the wall.
“Cassi opened the door, her mom and stepdad right behind her. None of her bruises were visible then and they all denied the screaming, including Cass.”
Seriously? What the f**k?
“When the cops left, her mom took off her high heels, used the pointy heel part to hit her head repeatedly. There was so much blood when I got there, Gage, and she couldn’t lay her head on even a pillow for almost a week after that. Another time her stepdad threw a glass of alcohol at her, she ducked, and it shattered against a wall. Since she didn’t get hit by it, he grabbed her by the throat, dragged her to where it was, and just kept slicing her forehead, arms, stomach, and back with one of the pieces. She wore a scarf every day ’til the finger marks were gone. That’s why she wears her hair with those things, what are they called? Bangs. She got those scars when she was ten and the one on her head isn’t very noticeable anymore, but she still tries to hide it. She tries to hide all of them, but some she can’t unless she wants to wear jeans and long sleeves in the summer.”
I stood there in shock, trying to make the connection between this girl he was telling me about and the girl I’d just met. Even with seeing the pictures it wasn’t clicking for me; I couldn’t imagine someone touching her, or her being so willing to let it continue. “You’re a poor excuse for a man, Tyler.” I opened my door and stood next to it, arms crossed over my chest.
He looked like he crumpled in on himself. “You think I don’t know that?”
I couldn’t say anything else to him. As soon as he was out of my room I slammed the door and fell to my bed. I wanted to make him stay in my room and go to her myself. Hold her and tell her I’d never let anyone else hurt her again. But for whatever reason she wanted him, and we didn’t know each other so it would be even creepier than my trying to be close enough to hear her talk tonight.
My whole body shook as I thought about anyone laying a hand on her, let alone sharp objects. Sweet Cassi, she deserved parents and a man who cherished her. Not ones who beat her and a boy who sat back and let it happen. I swallowed back vomit for the third time since I found out what happened and forced myself to stay in my bed.
I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing, focusing on her face and honey-colored eyes instead of what I saw on her back and the images that Tyler’s phone had seared into my brain. I thought about running my hands through that long, dark hair. Pressing my mouth to her neck, her cheeks, and finally those lips that were full and inviting. Tyler doesn’t deserve her. Not at all. I thought about taking her in my arms and taking her to the ranch so I could keep her safe for the rest of her life. But she’d already been living a life she didn’t choose, so I wouldn’t choose for her either; I would wait for her to leave him and come to me.
Chapter Two
CASSIDY
WE HADN’T BEEN in Austin for more than six hours before someone saw the bruises. And not just anyone, Tyler’s cousin, our new roommate, and the guy who wouldn’t leave my every waking thought. I told Tyler not to tell him—let him make his own assumptions—but of course Tyler didn’t listen and told him way more than he should have. I couldn’t blame him though; I’d made him keep a secret no kid should have to. I know he thought I was sleeping, but even if I had been, Gage yelling at Tyler, or Tyler coming back into our room to hold me and tell me how sorry he was while he cried, would have woken me up. I’d learned long ago that if I cried, I got hit harder until I finally stopped, so I’d become a master at turning off my emotions. But I knew if I had opened my eyes to watch him cry, it definitely would have broken through that wall and I would have been crying right there with him. So I lay there completely still, emotions turned off and eyes shut, while Tyler cried himself to sleep.
“You don’t want to know.”
Like hell I didn’t. I was already planning on going to California with my twelve-gauge. “What. Would. They. Do.”
He was quiet for so long I didn’t think he was going to answer. “When it first started, it was usually just hitting and kicking. The older she got, the more it turned into whatever they had in their hands or could grab quickly. Once that started, she only came over if it was other objects. She lived for the days when it was only hands.”
“So what I saw tonight, you said it isn’t the worst?”
“Not even close.”
“What was?”
Tyler sighed and looked up at me, tears streaming down his face. “I don’t know, there were a few that really stood out, but I couldn’t name one that was the worst.”
I just kept glaring at him; he needed a beatin’ just for letting this go on for so long. She was seventeen or eighteen now, so she had been six or seven when this all started. And he’d known the entire time.
“A couple years ago, the cops showed up one night—”
“I thought you said she wouldn’t let you call?”
“I didn’t.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair a few times. “The old lady that lived in between us heard her screaming one night, called the cops.”
I shoved off the wall and flung my arms out. “You had a perfect opportunity and you still didn’t do anything? They didn’t do anything?!”
“Gage, I didn’t even know the cops were called until she texted me hours after they’d left!”
“What happened?” I demanded, and forced myself back against the wall.
“Cassi opened the door, her mom and stepdad right behind her. None of her bruises were visible then and they all denied the screaming, including Cass.”
Seriously? What the f**k?
“When the cops left, her mom took off her high heels, used the pointy heel part to hit her head repeatedly. There was so much blood when I got there, Gage, and she couldn’t lay her head on even a pillow for almost a week after that. Another time her stepdad threw a glass of alcohol at her, she ducked, and it shattered against a wall. Since she didn’t get hit by it, he grabbed her by the throat, dragged her to where it was, and just kept slicing her forehead, arms, stomach, and back with one of the pieces. She wore a scarf every day ’til the finger marks were gone. That’s why she wears her hair with those things, what are they called? Bangs. She got those scars when she was ten and the one on her head isn’t very noticeable anymore, but she still tries to hide it. She tries to hide all of them, but some she can’t unless she wants to wear jeans and long sleeves in the summer.”
I stood there in shock, trying to make the connection between this girl he was telling me about and the girl I’d just met. Even with seeing the pictures it wasn’t clicking for me; I couldn’t imagine someone touching her, or her being so willing to let it continue. “You’re a poor excuse for a man, Tyler.” I opened my door and stood next to it, arms crossed over my chest.
He looked like he crumpled in on himself. “You think I don’t know that?”
I couldn’t say anything else to him. As soon as he was out of my room I slammed the door and fell to my bed. I wanted to make him stay in my room and go to her myself. Hold her and tell her I’d never let anyone else hurt her again. But for whatever reason she wanted him, and we didn’t know each other so it would be even creepier than my trying to be close enough to hear her talk tonight.
My whole body shook as I thought about anyone laying a hand on her, let alone sharp objects. Sweet Cassi, she deserved parents and a man who cherished her. Not ones who beat her and a boy who sat back and let it happen. I swallowed back vomit for the third time since I found out what happened and forced myself to stay in my bed.
I closed my eyes and tried to steady my breathing, focusing on her face and honey-colored eyes instead of what I saw on her back and the images that Tyler’s phone had seared into my brain. I thought about running my hands through that long, dark hair. Pressing my mouth to her neck, her cheeks, and finally those lips that were full and inviting. Tyler doesn’t deserve her. Not at all. I thought about taking her in my arms and taking her to the ranch so I could keep her safe for the rest of her life. But she’d already been living a life she didn’t choose, so I wouldn’t choose for her either; I would wait for her to leave him and come to me.
Chapter Two
CASSIDY
WE HADN’T BEEN in Austin for more than six hours before someone saw the bruises. And not just anyone, Tyler’s cousin, our new roommate, and the guy who wouldn’t leave my every waking thought. I told Tyler not to tell him—let him make his own assumptions—but of course Tyler didn’t listen and told him way more than he should have. I couldn’t blame him though; I’d made him keep a secret no kid should have to. I know he thought I was sleeping, but even if I had been, Gage yelling at Tyler, or Tyler coming back into our room to hold me and tell me how sorry he was while he cried, would have woken me up. I’d learned long ago that if I cried, I got hit harder until I finally stopped, so I’d become a master at turning off my emotions. But I knew if I had opened my eyes to watch him cry, it definitely would have broken through that wall and I would have been crying right there with him. So I lay there completely still, emotions turned off and eyes shut, while Tyler cried himself to sleep.
