Cut Me Free (15 page)

They took him while I slept and he isn't back yet. If the Father has come for me … why didn't he bring back Sam?

“Get up.” The Father's voice spills contempt and disgust. “You have to bury the Boy.”

Getting to my feet, I blink and try to process his words. He walks out and comes back carrying Sam. He hands over my brother's small, lifeless frame. His skin is so pale, so cold, and I can see what killed him. One cut on his arm is too much, too deep, and he is too frail. His body gave up fighting to repair itself time after time.

“You should've made him stronger. When the fight ends, so does the fun.” The Father yawns, stretches, and walks down the attic stairs. “But you know that. You understand me. You always have.”

I barely hear his words because in my head my voice is screaming. Again and again, never halting, never even breathing.

IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME.

*   *   *

My heart explodes with pain and I reach out for the figure in front of me. Everything I feel and see drowns in wave upon wave of maddening rage. I will kill the Father again if he's back. I'll kill him over and over for what he did.

“Charlotte?” The small whimpering voice freezes me, and I blink my eyes against the bright light streaming in through the window. “Please don't.”

Stop, Piper! No more hurting.

Sam's voice chills me and my heart skips a beat. He's dead. The Father said … but wait …

Sanda swims through my vision for a moment before settling into place before me. She clutches the sides of her pajamas with her hands and her whole body is trembling. My hands are raised toward her, the ends of my fingers curved into claws. I can see it in her eyes, the fear I've seen in Sam's so many times. Someone is coming after her, someone is going to hurt her—and this time it's me.

I drop my arms to my sides as horror rolls through my body like a tsunami, leaving me bruised and devastated.

“I'm so sorry, Sanda.” Every part of me aches to hug her. I need to show her, and myself, that I'm not one of them. Not one of the people that cause pain.

But I do cause pain. I just hope it's only to the people that deserve it and that hurting them doesn't turn me into them. I clench my hands by my thighs. I can't touch her, not now, not yet. She needs time.

“I was having a nightmare.”

Her shaking subsides some, but her lower lip trembles when she speaks again. It pains me to know I've caused it. “Why did you sleep out here?”

“Good question,” I say, stretching. My body aches all over as I ease myself up onto the couch. I steal one last peek out the window. Even in the bright sunlight I need to see that he isn't back before I can let myself relax. “I was looking out the window, making sure we were safe, and I fell asleep.”

Sanda sits on the couch, too, but on the opposite end.

“I'm very sorry,” I say again, and wait for her dark eyes to meet mine.

She doesn't turn away like I expect. “Why did Cam call you Piper?”

I should've seen this question coming, but somehow it still surprises me. I want to protect Sanda from my past, but right now she needs to remember we're both the same. The truth will help her see that.

“Because Piper is my old name.” I scoot closer to her on the couch. She doesn't back away. “Like you have Sanda and your new name, Sandra. I have Piper and Charlotte.”

She nods like this is what she was expecting to hear. Her lip has stopped trembling and I feel a bit better. After a moment of silence, she crawls across the couch and sits beside me. Her head rests against my chest and her breathing slows. “I'm glad you escaped. I'm glad you're Charlotte now.”

“Me, too.” I rest my chin against her head and wrap an arm around her, trying hard to ignore the chill in my stomach that makes me wonder if I escaped at all.

*   *   *

I stand surrounded by charred wooden beams. They rise from the ash at my feet like a fossilized dragon claw straight out of fiction, waiting for the perfect moment to crush me. Every time the wind blows I can't keep from coughing. Somehow what happened in Brothers's apartment is poisoning my new world. It's a dead wasteland in the beating heart of the city. It is venom snaking through the veins of my new life and killing it cell by cell.

The rooms are barely recognizable and I only have a few minutes. I'm dreading what comes next. Meeting with Cam is the last thing I want to do right now, especially because it's time to make good on my promise. I finally have to answer his questions.

Sam didn't want to come back here. He seems to think if we pretend the man we saw outside last night was a dream, then it will all go away.

I've tried that before. It never works. Nightmares never just stay in my head.

I shove aside a beam with the toe of my shoe, and a shudder runs through me at what is exposed beneath it. Blinking at the sunlight glinting off the blade of a knife, I wrap my arms tighter around myself. I'm standing where his closet used to be, the torture closet. Using the side of my foot, I push a pile of ash over the blade, burying it along with everything else from this apartment that should remain hidden.

No one put this fire out before it was too late. No fireman rushed in to save him as others worked to dash out the flames. If there was any justice in this world, I'd be certain he died an excruciating death.

But there's never been any justice for me. Only what I've created for myself.

I pick my steps carefully in the shifting debris as I make my way back to the street. My chest loosens. It's easier to breathe now that I'm standing on the other side of the road. Could Brothers have somehow survived this? I walk down the street backward until the cancerous building is out of sight. Something won't let me turn my back on where the monster lived.

 

15

Cam asked me to meet him at Angelo's, and I shift uncomfortably in the lobby as I wait. I avoid coming in on my days off because the restaurant is always busy and I feel guilty I'm not helping. That and I spend most of my time with Sanda. I'm not sure I want everyone there to know about Sanda yet. The fewer people that know that I suddenly have a young girl living with me, the safer she'll be.

Cam walks out of the storage room and hangs the inventory count sheet up on its usual hook outside the door. I groan, but as much as I try to resist, he brings out a smile in me. Grinning back, he loosens the collar on his black shirt as he walks over. Nothing ever looks bad on him. He could wear overalls and somehow still be hot.

“Hi.” His dimples seem to pop out at me like miniature black holes when he grins, irresistibly drawing me in.

“Are we staying here?” I glance toward the host station, where Lily is watching us and whispering something to Gino. A movement in the corner catches my eye and I see Oscar wave at me with a smirk.

“No.” Cam frowns and opens the door for me to exit.

As we walk into the sunlight I feel lighter already—until I remember why we're here. I've canceled the last two times he tried to get me to live up to my end of the deal. He's losing patience. Still, I can't help but try to stall a little longer.

“Will she ever stop hating me so much?”

“Lily?”

“Yeah.”

Cam's eyes turn me into thin tissue paper—weak, transparent, and, from what I can tell, totally useless. Part of me likes everything about being around him, the other part screams in frustration that I can't put up walls near him the way I wish I could.

“She doesn't hate you, but I think she's worried about me.”

I nod and my jaw tightens. Lily is more perceptive than I thought. She sees through the mask I'm trying so hard to keep on. “She thinks I'm dangerous.”

Cam's laugh surprises me. “Yeah, but not in the way you're thinking.”

“How do you know what I'm thinking?” I stop and face him, my walls up as high as I can get them.

“Easy.” Cam reaches toward my shoulder but then sticks his hand back in his pocket instead. He catches my eye and continues. “I just mean that she knows how I feel about you. And she's untrusting and overprotective.”

I blink and breathe. And breathe again. My mind refuses to process what he's saying. My walls crumble and I'm left standing, exposed. I can't think of a single thing to say.

After watching me for what seems like an eternity, he turns and offers his elbow to me. “Is this better? More comfortable for you?”

Words still elude me, but I link my arm through his and am surprised to find it is more comfortable with my skin against his shirt than touching his skin directly.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

He doesn't seem to mind that I don't say anything else. Of the books Nana brought me, only a couple had romance. I know I'm supposed to say something back when a guy talks about his feelings for me, but I don't have any idea what. The warmth spreading through my chest and down my arms really isn't helping me figure it out either. My cheeks are hot, and now that I've turned away, I can't meet Cam's eyes.

Eww.

Perfect. With Sam's comments in my head, I'll never find the right words.

“Are you hungry?” Cam's voice is so warm I wish I could wrap myself up in it.

“Hungry?” I repeat, still unable to return his gaze.

“Ruth's Deli is around the corner. It's a great sandwich place where they put comic strips on the tables. It's fun.”

This time he stops and slowly lifts my chin up with one finger until I meet his eyes. They are so different, so exposed. I can see him the way he sees me, even when I don't want him to. I can see that he means what he said about his feelings for me.

And I realize for the first time that something inside me wants him to mean it, wishes I deserved it.

“I … I don't want…” Now that I know what I want to say, my voice isn't cooperating.

“Oh, we can go someplace else.” Cam starts to turn until I squeeze his elbow and drag him over next to the building. This is a much busier street than the last one. I don't want to say this with dozens of people pushing to get past me.

“What is it?” Cam bends down, his expression intense. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” I swallow hard and release his arm, rubbing my hands together. The words finally come, but it's even harder than I expected to be this vulnerable—to trust him with the feelings I barely understand myself. “I don't want Lily to be right.”

His eyes hold mine, but he doesn't respond. I wonder for a moment if he heard me, then he inches closer until his arms, his chest, his hands and every other piece of him are only a breath away. I don't step back. His smell envelops me in a way his arms can't yet. He smells like warmth. Like life and happiness. I can't pull away.

“She isn't right.” His breath is hot against my hair. Being so close to him drives away my ghosts. It's like everything can be what I've always wanted. The nightmares can finally end if I will simply lean forward and let him hold me.

My reason wiggles its way to the surface and argues with my desire to be happy. Even Cam can't work miracles. And as I've proven again and again, I
am
dangerous.

I push aside the doubts and close my eyes, drawing in another breath of him. Frozen an inch away from my possible refuge, I cling to the hope that he could be right.

 

16

Ruth's Deli is every bit as great as Cam said. There are so many sandwich toppings it's overwhelming. Some of them even sound made up. When Cam asks if I want banana peppers, I smile, expecting it to be some kind of joke. I'd heard of bananas and peppers, but a banana pepper? Who thought those should be put together? Once I realize he is serious, I shake my head and stick with the ones I know.

“Just tomatoes and lettuce, please,” I say, glancing down and trying not to appear as awkward as I feel. Cam winks at me when he catches my eye.

“Good choice.”

My sandwich is incredible, but the tables are my favorite part. I'd spent an hour in a comic book store while following Brothers, but never actually looked at comics. These are newspaper comics and they seem more focused on humor, so I devour them. Cam smiles at me as I read every one under the glass surface of our table. Some of them I don't fully understand, but it's still amazing how they fit so much information and humor into the tiny boxes.

Every time a new table empties, I move over with my drink and read the comics there. After an hour, Cam holds up a hand as I stand to move again.

“Not yet.” He waits as I retake my seat, his expression serious for the first time since we walked in the door. “It's time to answer my questions.”

I nod and rub my knuckles against my jeans, moving over the lump of the bolt in my pocket for reassurance. I'd hoped he would drop it, but I understand why he won't. If I were him, I wouldn't.

I study the spot in the middle of the table where our hands would meet if I were a different girl. The way his eyes meet mine sends tingles through my entire body. I love it and at the same time I'm scared to death by how it makes me feel. This is risky, maybe even stupid.

Probably stupid.

His eyes study me. Waiting for the permission he's been wanting since we met. If I want my life to change, I have to adjust my actions. I have to learn to trust people who show me they can be trusted, starting now.

“Go ahead. Ask your first question.”

Cam's voice is low when he speaks. It's soothing even as his question terrifies me. “What are you running from?”

“I think I've already answered th—”

He shakes his head. “No, you didn't.”

“Okay, fine.” I breathe deep, resisting the urge to stand and run out the door. He moves forward. Almost like he knows what I'm thinking. “Bad things have happened to me my whole life. I'm trying to start fresh.”