"There is a difference between not being very close and being completely oblivious to the fact that your teen-aged daughter is being beaten up by some guy!"
I sat at the top of the stairs. The yelling had started about the same time my father walked through the front door and two hours later, it had yet to stop. I felt a small, minuscule amount of pity for my father who had walked through the front door not expecting this at all, but mostly, it made me really like Julia. It wasn't just that she stood up to my dad, though that in and of itself was impressive, it was that she was doing it for me. I couldn't remember the last time someone berated my father for his lack of involvement in my life and it took away some of the pain.
"Jules," he attempted to reason but was cut off by more yelling from Julia.
"Don't touch me!"
"She hasn't made an effort either," my father yelled back and that was the wrong thing to say. It hit my like a punch though I wasn't sure why. I had kept all of this from him, and he had made it easy but what he was saying was right too, I had never made any effort to be close to my father.In fact, I'd done what I could to make sure the chasm between us would never be closed. I barely knew him anymore and I didn't want him to be overbearing and in my business, but it was nice that someone recognized it was his job to do that.
"You are the adult, Cal. Of course she didn't come to you. It's your job to make her feel safe, protected, and when she tried to kill herself, you didn't even care. How can I marry a man who would let his own daughter stay scared and alone in a hospital bed while he was on vacation?"
It suddenly became silent. That was probably my cue to go down there. I stood slowly from the top step where I had been eavesdropping on their conversation and walked down the stairs. When I spotted them in the kitchen, they had still not resumed the argument. Julia's face was tear stained and my dad was pouring a drink. His eyes were dry and his lips were formed into a thin line that made him look nothing more than mildly inconvenienced by this argument. His hands trembling as he poured the scotch was what gave him away. My heart was pounding, as I cleared my throat to get their attention. Julia wiped at her cheeks and my father lifted his eyes to me. In that moment, I think he hated me. Truly hated me.
"Are you happy?" he asked in a deadly, quiet voice. "Glad to be getting back at me?"
I reeled back, surprised that after all the yelling, he was still accepting no fault for anything wrong in his life. I knew my part. I knew exactly what I was doing, that I was looking out for myself. I was being as ruthless as he was, putting myself first, the rest of the world be dammed. I could accept that had made awful mistakes, that I did everything wrong. And I hated that he couldn't. He did something awful and cruel and it came out and he was being punished for it. But he was making it my fault. I was the one who let it slip that he didn't care enough to come see me. I was the one who told Julia a long sob story that painted him in a less than wonderful light. To him, this was my fault. I knew that in part, it was. But his refusal to take any responsibility made me snap."
"You think that's what this is about?" I said quietly knowing that if I raised my voice above a whisper it would be too wrought with emotion. "I've spent two years of my life letting someone do his best to destroy me to protect you."
There was so much more to it than that and I knew it. I had issues and probably needed to start seeing a therapist years ago. A whole slew of dead mommy and daddy issues. Wanting so badly to piss him off that I let myself make decisions I knew were bad. I had made the mistake of telling Garret what I'd found out about my father. But at the time, I was so angry with him and I thought I could trust Garret. Or I told myself I could trust him. I was sixteen.
My father didn't look convinced.
I could have explained that I took it so long because I'm that fucked up. That I knew he wasn't responsible for my actions and my mistakes. But the complete disregard had me so angry, I was shaking. So without giving myself time to think it through, I took off my shirt so that I was standing in my pajama pants and sports bra—the only one that I could wear semi-comfortably.
"These," I pointed to the light scars on my stomach, "are from when he was so angry that I tried to leave him that trapped me beneath him and cut me. And all of this," I turned so that he could see the bruising on my ribs and back, "is from when I said something that embarrassed him and he decided he was going to give me a few kicks before he forced himself on me while I cried and begged him to stop. I stayed with him because I didn't want to hurt you."
It was wrong to try to put all of this on him, but I thought he deserved it. I wanted him to show some sign, any sign of the slightest remorse. But he didn't.
"Not that any of that matters anymore."
"What do you mean?" my father asked.
"Do you even care?" I asked. "Everything I just said and that's the part you're going to focus on?"
He was silent. But I didn't go one, I refused. If he couldn't even look me in the eye, I wasn't going to discuss anything further. So I waited until the silence was so heavy it was weighing us all down and to talk would have been as awkward as staying silent. He finally met my eyes and I could see anguish in them, pain that I hoped was for me. Maybe he just didn't know how to react, so he chose the easiest thing to say.
That's what I told myself, anyway.
"About a year and a half ago I found out what you were doing. I found out that you were embezzling money from your business. Like, millions." I paused waiting, hoping he would tell me how wrong I had been, but of course he didn't. He couldn't deny it. "I didn't know what to do and I told someone I thought I could trust. I didn't know he had it all recorded." I let out a bitter laugh. "I don't think he was even trying to record me saying something like that, it was just there and turned on so that he could film... well, us. Then he realized what he had and when I tried to break things off he made it very clear that if I did, he would shared that video with the world."
"And you've ended things with him now?"
"Yes."
"You believe he make good on his threat."
"He will."
He leaned against the kitchen counter at a loss for words. He poured another large glass of scotch and quickly emptied the glass again before he looked at me. And there it was, written all over his face. The remorse I had been waiting for, hoping for. I could see it in the downward turn of his lips and in the worry lines that seemed to have deepened within the last twenty-four hours.
And I didn't get an ounce of satisfaction from it.
"I had no idea..."
"How could you have?" He was never home.
"Well," Julia said walking toward me. "There's nothing that can be done about it now. What happens will happen. You should get back upstairs. Rest a bit."
I walked out of the kitchen and paused, leaning against the wall.
"You have to know, Julia," I head my father say quietly. "If I had known... If I had any idea of what was going on..."
"I know, Cal," she said. "I know you aren't a monster and I know you love your daughter. But you should have made it your priority after what happened in December. It should have always been your priority."
He sighed deeply. "I can have the boy taken care of."
I stopped dead in my tracked, frozen to listen.
"He can disappear before morning."
My eyes widened in the hall at the implication that he could have Garret killed.
"Don't do anything rash, Cal."
"Did you see her body?" he choked a bit saying the words. I should have kept walking, I was listening to a conversation that I wasn't meant to overhear. My father had never spoken with that kind of emotion in regards to me though, I couldn't move. "What he's done to her?"
"I did. And he deserves the worst, but you need to focus on making this right with your daughter."
"Evangeline won't forgive me, I don't deserve the forgiveness."
"You can start by calling her Evie, like you know her, instead of treating her like a distant stranger," she snapped. "And no, you don't deserve her forgiveness, but she deserves to forgive you. I'm going to move my things into one of the guest rooms."
"You aren't leaving?"
"I don't know, Cal."
I moved quickly to get up the stairs back to my room when heard Julia start to move. I climbed into my bed and grabbed my phone, glancing at the time. It was time to take another pill, so I did and then I made a phone call a I knew I needed too. I had eight missed calls from Talon in the last hour or so and she deserved an update. Plus, I needed to talk to my friend. I meant to call her after I was sure she was home from school, but I fell asleep and then I woke up to the yelling my father got home and forgot. It only rang twice before someone picked up.
"Are you okay?" Talon asked, her voice hushed.
"Yeah. Sorry I've been M.I.A. I haven't felt great—"
"Cut the shit, Evie," Talon said.
"I..." did not expect that. She never really called me out before. "Sorry."
"You don't have to apologize. Just, don't lie. I know why you missed school today, Bran told me. He feels awful, you know."
"He shouldn't. Hey..." I paused trying to work up the nerve. "Has Tyler said anything?"
She didn't answer.
"Talon?"
"Sorry, he and Bran are talking in the living room. I don't really know, but I've never seen him so upset."
My stomach dropped. "Why?"
"I don't know. I've been trying to listen..."
"But you haven't heard anything?"
"Oh," she drew out. "I've heard some things, but mostly strings of curse words, promises to kill... that sort of thing. I don't know what I would have done if Bran hadn't been here. He picked me up from school today since Ty was still working and that's when he told me why you weren't there. When we got home, there was some package at the door for Tyler, so I brought it in and tossed it on the table for him to see when he got home. Brandon stayed for a while, he usually does, to hang out and play video games with Ty or whatever. So when Ty got home I got up to go to my room and do some homework away from the video games. He had yelled back asking what the envelope was, so naturally I yelled back that I didn't have x-ray vision. I don't know what was in there, but it was like five minutes after that that Tyler yelled and then Brandon yelled. I ran out to make sure they weren't going to kill each other and they just both yelled at me to go... so I've been hanging out in my room trying to listen in. That's why I tried to call you so much though, I thought maybe you'd be able to calm him down."
My stomach was on the floor. My mouth was suddenly dry. Maybe it was a little conceited to assume this was all about me, but in my heart, I knew. The timing was too perfect to be a coincidence. This was it, the moment I had feared. The one I didn't think I could deal with.
"Evie? Are you still there?"
"Yeah." I paused. "I'm sorry." My eyes had filled with tears and I was trying to blink them back, but I wasn't very successful. "This is my fault. I'm so sorry."
"You don't need to apologize. I mean, I knew you couldn't be all rainbows and sunshine if you wanted to hang out with me," she said with a forced laugh. "I know this has something to do with you, but I know it isn't your fault. I just... don't know what do to."
"I'll talk to him... I'm not sure he will want to talk to me though."
She blew a deep sigh of relief. "I think he does. Gimmie a sec."
I think she pulled the phone away from her ear because I could hear her voice as she left her room and spoke to Brandon and Tyler, though I couldn't make out what any of them were saying. My heart pounded so fast and hard that I thought it might beat it way right out of my chest. Waiting for him to take the phone from her felt like forever as I sat in bed terrified he would reject it, too disgusted by what he'd seen to bear talking to me.
"Hello," his deep voice finally said and though I still wasn't sure what to expect, I relaxed a little, knowing he agreed to speak with me.
"Hey," I said on an exhale. I didn't really know what to say next and it was clear from the silence that he didn't either.
"I..." he began and then trailed off.
"He sent you a video, didn't he?" I didn't want to ask the question, but I made myself, speaking the words as fast I could get them out of my mouth. I needed the confirmation.
"Yeah," he answered quickly and I got the impression that he was trying very hard to remain cool while talking to me.
"I'm okay," I said surprisingly calm considering there was bile in my throat. "Whatever he sent you... whatever you saw, I'm okay."
"Evie." My name was a plea on his lips.
"I'm okay." It was kind of true. "I know it's fresh for you, but it's the past for me."
"You can't ask me to let that go."
"I'm not asking you to let it go forever. Just for now."
After a tense silence, he sighed. "Can I see you?"
"Are you sure you want too? I wouldn't blame you, after seeing that, if you wanted space... or whatever."
"You sound like you expect me to be mad at you." He paused for me to deny, but I couldn't. "Yes. Of course I want to see you."