Before the Morning [BEING EDITED]

30 | Promise

Nolan had barely turned to leave when the shouting started.

He faltered and twisted around. Nora moved into the kitchen. Bottles littered the countertops.

Isaac appeared, face red, body taut. Nolan tensed. "How dare you?" Isaac snarled. His words were distant, but clear. Oozing with disdain.

Nora froze. Her dad wrenched her by the shoulder, berated her, and then—

The world shifted to slow motion. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. Ba-bump...ba-bump...

The truck zoomed by, a blur of faded, peeling blue. Nolan catapulted up the front steps, reached for the door handle, and—

The door flung open. Nora jumped, and he backpedaled, heart ramming into his throat.

"Nolan," she gasped. She closed the door behind her.

He reached for her cheek, then drew back. The night wasn't enough to conceal the bruising skin.

A horrified rage pulsated beneath his skin. All at once, the clips slammed together.

Nora weeping in his living room, desperate not to go home.

The tense breakfast.

The worried glances at the clock whenever she and the others were filming at the house.

The answer was there, on the first day he stepped foot in her house. Oh god. How long had this been going on? Since her mom died? That was when she was, what—eight? Or had it been going on before even then?

Why the hell hadn't he caught on sooner? Why hadn't Rachel? Willow? Andy? Erin? Max?

His rage turned to above. None of them had known. But He had.

A distant crash sent Nora scurrying down the driveway. He fell into step beside her, hands at his sides despite the want to wrap a protective arm around her. Touching her unexpectedly would just make things worse.

She lifted a hand toward her cheek, but stopped, curled her fingers into a fist, and dropped it back to her side. She bit her lip and reached out, and he took her hand in his. His thumb rubbed softly over hers. I'm here. She didn't look at him, but leaned against him. Message received.

Ahead, the railroad tracks emerged in the darkness. Nora pulled away and hurried for a patch of large rocks that sat just before the tracks. Nolan almost had to run to keep up.

She lowered herself onto one of the larger boulders, big enough to fit two people. She let out a relieved sigh and dropped her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook.

"Nora," he whispered.

"No," she whimpered. "I can't, Nolan. I just—I can't."

He eased into the space beside her, and she tucked her head into the crook of his neck. Automatically, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When she flinched—shit—he started to recoil, an apology on his lips, but she tugged his arm back. She gripped his hand tightly as she sobbed, and he let her, his head resting against her own.

Her cries melded with the soft breeze, croaking frogs, and chattering crickets. Each drop landed in his stomach—hard. Heavy.

"You're staying with me tonight," he said.

She leapt to her feet. "No, no, no, no, no—it's fine. I'm fine. What you saw—he—he never does that. He's never...h-hit me before."

"But you're not completely surprised he did."

She looked away.

"If you don't want to stay with me, that's fine," he said. "But we need to find you someone. Willow, your Aunt Rachel. You can't go back there."