Viper House

Coming Clean

"You've been quiet," Maia said as she brought a stack of plates to where I was washing them in the kitchen. Elijah and Lauren were cleaning up the grill outside. It was going to be snowing before too long, so they were trying to take advantage of the decent fall weather before that started.

I shrugged, rinsing off a plate and putting it on the rack to dry. "Just don't have a lot to say."

She leaned against the counter next to me. "You sure that's all?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"You want to tell me who that man was at school last week and why you were so freaked out?"

I shook my head, scrubbing the plate a little more roughly than necessary. "No."

"Is he the person who gave you those bruises?" She crossed her arms over her chest when I didn't answer. "Just tell me that he isn't hurting you or holding something over you."
I put the plate on the rack and turned to look at her. "I promise that he's not."

Maia's eyes locked on mine. I held her gaze. She looked like a lot of clients who weren't sure if we were trying to pull a fast one over on them to make money while saving money. Usually, they were too fucked up to really figure out that we'd mixed some powder in with their heroin. Maia, though, wasn't fucked up and she wasn't an idiot.

"You're a shitty liar."

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the sink. "It's better if you don't know, Maia."

"Why? What is it that is so secretive about your life that you can't even tell me that he's hurting you so we can get you help?"

I washed the last plate and put it on the rack. After I dried my hands, I took hers and pulled her towards the stairs. This time, I shut the door all the way, leaning against it while still holding her hand. Her brows were drawn in a deep v. She took a step towards me, covering our hands with her free hand.

"I was...," I took a deep breath and cast my eyes to the ceiling. "I was five when my dad came into my room one night and asked if I wanted to help him be happy. My mom was passed out drunk on the couch, which wasn't out of the ordinary, and I could smell the weed and alcohol pouring off my dad." She squeezed my hand. "And of course, you want to make your dad happy. Any kid does. It took a while before I figured out that what he was doing wasn't normal."

"Rafe," she whispered, but I held up my free hand.

"Let me finish," I said. "He would go months without doing anything and then would do it day after day. I didn't know until I was about fourteen that he was doing it to my brother, too, so I told him that if he left Spencer alone, I would do whatever he wanted me to. I thought that had stopped him. I really did, but I caught him one night when I was fifteen. We had a big physical fight. I mean, by then I was big enough to take him, especially when he was drunk and high."

I swallowed hard. "I didn't know that he had a friend over. They got me down and beat me. When I woke up, I was in the middle of the woods. I tried to go home, but his buddies were there, and they'd just absolutely kick my ass. So, I started wandering the streets. I met good people, and I met some shitty people. I met good people who turned out to be shitty people."

She stepped forward, resting her head against my chest. Her hand squeezed mine tightly. I kept my eyes on the window, not really seeing it, but seeing what I went through during all those years.

"I spent almost a year on the streets. Those good people were into heroin, so I got into heroin. First, I was just buying it from them or they would give it to me along with a place to live. They eventually decided that it was time for me to earn my keep, so I started selling drugs for them and helping them collect their money."