Collateral Damage (From the Damage) (14 page)

But now he wondered…if he drank a beer, would he be able to stop blaming himself for what happened to Meagan? If he smoked some pot, would it dull the pain? With nothing important left to lose, he figured he’d give it a try and grabbed a bottle of beer from a cooler on the table.

Then he headed upstairs, wanting to be alone. Wishing he had a home to retreat to when life got this dark, knowing he wouldn’t have that until he turned eighteen and could provide one for himself. But his upcoming birthday only took care of the legalities; he still had to come up with the cash, find furniture, find a place to rent, etc. Find the desire to do anything besides fade into oblivion. Just thinking about it all made his head spin.

He made it to the second floor of the house and turned a corner, heading down a hallway full of doors. One of them opened and Seth stormed out, slamming it behind him.

Seeing him, Ryder felt a fire ignite. This jerk had everything handed to him and always had, and still found reasons to be a psychotic asshole. He never appreciated anything. This anger consuming him, he stepped into Seth’s path, ready to tell him off or worse.

But Seth only shoved him out of his way and kept walking.

“You should be careful.” Ryder reached out and grabbed Seth’s arm, squeezing it tight.

Seth’s eyes flashed with a hint of anger. Keeping his voice loud and macho, he said, “Why? Because you’re such a tough guy? Maybe you missed it, but I already kicked your ass. Just look in the mirror.”

“No,” Ryder said with a quiet, cold laugh. “Because I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

Seth’s jaw clenched as he jerked his arm out of Ryder’s grasp. He stood there, giving Ryder a good, long look—and seeming intimidated by what he saw—before finally turning back down the hallway.

Shaking his head, Ryder kept walking. He’d deal with Seth later…now he wanted to find a quiet place and give this beer a try. As he passed the door Seth came out of, a chilling thought occurred to him.

Seth hadn’t picked a fight with Ryder, like he usually did. And he’d been in such a big hurry to get out of there…so what was inside the room?

Reaching out, he twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open a little. Poking his head inside, he took a quick look around. His ears picked up on the soft sound of a girl crying before he saw her, huddled in a corner with her knees pulled up to her chest. Long brown hair covered most of her face, which was tilted down and away from the light. She had her hand pressed against the right side of her face.

“Are you okay?” Ryder asked cautiously as he lingered in the doorway.

She looked up, and the light fell across her face. He almost didn’t recognize her, without her clean and fresh-make-up look and signature attitude, but it was definitely Lena. She swallowed hard when she saw him and wiped away a few tears, smearing eyeliner along her cheek. In an attempt to straighten herself up, she pushed her hair back, revealing a swollen red splotch across the side of her face.

His eyes locked on the bruising skin as his mind finished reading the scenario. “Did Seth do that?” he asked, moving into the room. He left the door open behind him as he knelt in front of her, bringing them to eye level.

Her eyes, wide and bloodshot, watched his every move with the kind of weary and cautious look of someone who finally knew the truth. Finally, she nodded, just barely, and touched the side of her face again, as if covering the wound somehow dulled the pain. “I…I heard what he said to you. At the fight.” Tears thickened her voice, and she fought to keep them at bay. “I tried to talk to him about it…and he just went crazy. He hit me,” she whispered, then angrier, “the son of a bitch hit me. It feels like my face is going to explode.”

Part of him felt like Lena got what was coming to her, given the way she’d been treating Meagan. But as his resentment toward Seth faded in to the background, he realized that nobody deserved to be hurt by that jerk. Especially not the girl who’d stood by his side the entire time, abandoning a friend in the process. “Never been hit before huh?”

“Only once,” she said. “By Meagan.”

So she’d had that one coming at least, but this was just uncalled for. He held out the beer for her, and when she raised an eyebrow in question, he motioned to the side of her face. “It’s for the swelling.”

She took it, pressing the cool glass gently against her face. She was quiet for a minute, her eyes distant and lopsided looking from the swelling.  “He is so
dumped
,” she said, fuming, her catty behavior returning. “And ruined. I’ll make sure no girl in school will ever want to look at him again. I’m making it my
personal
mission
to destroy him.”

He laughed and stood up. “I’ll make sure to book a front row seat.”

“Meagan’s been right all along and nobody believed her.”

“Some people did.”

She looked up at him, eyes full of guilt. “I can’t believe I screwed up so bad. I was supposed to be her friend. How can I ever…
fix
it?”

He drew in a slow, steady breath as the irony of her words tugged at his heart, amplifying the guilt he felt. Thinking that if he knew the answer to that question, he definitely wouldn’t be searching for it here at this party. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “I don’t think we can.”

Chapter 11

Kay

“Are you sure you want to stay and help clean up?” Kay asked as she twisted the key into the lock and pushed her front door open. “You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said, laughing as he followed her into the house. As he looked around, taking in the sparkling clean floors, streak-free television screen, and neatly arranged Army memorabilia. “Wow, this place is
such
a mess.”

“Well, he’s picky,” she said, dropping her bags on the staircase and disappearing into the kitchen. She came out a second or two later, carrying a fold-up footstool, which she used to stand on and pull the curtain rod from the bracket. With quick, expert movements, she popped the curtain rod apart, slid the curtains to a heap on the floor and then reassembled the rod and hung it back up.

“Wow,” he said as she moved to the next window. “You get straight to work.”

“Well, there are a lot of curtains in this place. A lot of laundry to wash, period. I’ll be lucky if I get it done before he gets home.”

“Then we should hurry,” Alex said, reaching up to pull another curtain rod down.

They worked well together, washing the laundry and then folding it. In between loads, he helped her dust the shelves and wash the windows. With his help, the cleaning went quickly and his company made the experience a lot more pleasant.

In two hours, they were finished. Kay dumped a dirty pair of latex gloves into the trashcan and turned to Alex, where he was giving the counter a final once-over with the washcloth.

It made her smile to see him use his one good arm to help her clean for hours when he could’ve been in a drama-free zone, doing whatever teenage boys do
on Sunday nights.  Leaning against the counter, she looked over at him, unable to hide her appreciation. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you this weekend.”

He only grinned and shrugged it off. “I’m sure you would’ve been just fine.”

She shook her head, knowing she would’ve been more of a mess without him there to hold her together. “No, seriously. I really needed you and you came through. I just wanted you to know…it means a lot.”

Coming closer, he leaned against the counter with one hand. “Any time you need me, just call. I mean that, Kay.”

She felt her cheeks blush. “I should probably get some sleep,” she said suddenly, remembering the day she had ahead.

“Yeah, you should get some
rest. You look exhausted.”

Chuckling, she self-consciously remembered how frizzy her hair could get and the way her make-up had faded, revealing the circles under her eyes. After the day she’d had, she must’ve looked ghastly. “A good night’s sleep should take care of that,” she said.

“Want a goodnight kiss first?” he teased, moving closer, touching his lips to hers. Her lips parted to meet his kiss, arms pulling him closer to her. Even with the smell of bleach and fading taste of peppermint gum, he felt amazing. Warm and comforting, causing her to fall deeper and deeper into the kiss.

Until
they both heard a loud
ah-hem
.

Stiffening in dread, Kay turned her head to the noise. Horrified to see her dad
standing in the doorway leading to the dining room, looking in on the happy couple.

Alex’s arm was looped around Kay’s waist, pressing her body tightly against his, and their heads
were turned toward him, surprised and fearful expressions on their faces. Kay’s arms were wound around Alex’s neck and their lips were red from the heated kiss. And even though she’d gone above and beyond to hide her actions that weekend, she knew this was enough to make it a really, really bad night.

Roger simply stood, straight and stiff and intimidating, giving them that icy cold glare seen on cops and soldiers.

“Dad,” Kay said, pushing Alex back and wiping her mouth, trying to think of a way to smooth things over. “You said…”

“I’d be gone four days, I know,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “A little test. Looks like you’ve failed, Kay.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” she said, coming closer. “Alex was just staying to help me clean—”

“Clean what?” he asked, shooting her a disappointed scowl. “Your teeth?”

“With all due respect sir,” Alex said, stepping up. “Kay’s worked very hard tonight to make you happy. Maybe you could—”

“Happy?” he repeated, stepping further into the room. “You know what would make me happy, son?” Standing in front of Alex, looming over him, he tossed a look of disgust her way. “Having a daughter who didn’t fool around every time my back is turned.” 

He looked Alex up and down, studying his cast like he just now recognized him. “You’re that boy who got hit by a car.”

Alex hesitated, as if wondering where he was going with this, while Roger walked past him to Kay.

She was standing still, but her hands were shaking as he stopped in front of her. His calculating, angry gaze held her terrified one as he said, “What did I say about seeing him?”

Alex raised an eyebrow, looking at Kay with question as she stared up at her dad. Seeing how
scared she was, he felt obligated to step in. “Listen, sir—”

“You,” Roger shouted, pointing a stern finger at him. “Should get out of my house before I load my shotgun.”

Alex looked from Roger to Kay and reached his hand out. “Kay, let’s go.”

Kay stepped forward about the same time her dad’s temper exploded, wedging herself between them as Roger did his intimidation walk toward Alex.

“Let’s go!” Roger repeated, loudly. “Let’s go? Who do you think you are?”

“Alex, just go.” Without waiting for an answer, Kay grabbed him and rushed him into the dining room, then through the living room to the front door with her dad right on her heels.

Her heart was aching and pounding and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t get the looming cloud of dread and fear to dissipate. Alex and Roger’s protests mingled as each one tried to pull her their direction, but she knew better than to disobey her father. She pulled the front door open and shoved Alex out onto the porch, mouthing an apology.

“Kay, just come with me,” he said, eyes pleading, hand outstretched, ready and willing to help.

With her father’s indistinct and bitter muttering in the background, she said, “Go home.”

She slammed the door shut and turned, leaning her back against it as she dreadfully and slowly lifted her gaze to meet her father’s. He stood a foot or two away, at the end of the couch. Watching her, each hand tightened into a fist, making the muscles all down his arms jut out.

Her brain tried to think of something to say, tried to focus on something besides how scary those fists looked, how enraged his eyes looked.

Without a word, he walked toward her, keeping eye contact with her until the last possible second, when he stopped in front of her and peered over her head to look out the small window. 

“He’s getting in the car,” he told her. “Looks like he doesn’t care much, after all.”

She barely heard what he said. He was too close, prompting too much fear, for her to comprehend anything else.

He took a step back once they heard Alex’s car drive off. “Why’d he want you to go with him?” Cocking his head to the side, his gaze bored straight through her, ready to detect a lie. “What have you been telling that boy?”

Finally, she managed to whisper, “Nothing.”

“You been crying on his shoulder? Hm?” he taunted in a low voice. “Telling him all about Big Bad Dad?”

She shook her head. “I swear.”

Without warning, his fist flew into the side of her face, making her head explode with pain. Her ears rang and her eyes instantly clouded with tears as her head flew to the side with the blow, ricocheting off of the door. While she was stunned from the pain, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and shoved her into the living room so hard she tripped over her feet and landed face first on the floor. She stayed there, hearing each footstep, feeling the floor shake with it, as he walked up behind her.

She couldn’t find the strength to stand. After everything she’d been through this weekend, this was just too much. He’d broken her spirit the moment his knuckles collided with her temple, and she just didn’t care anymore.

“I spent all weekend listening to my friends talk about their kids.” Roger knelt down beside Kay, leaning in to talk to her. “They were doctors and law students and great mothers. Even a few soldiers. And I get this.” He grabbed a handful of Kay’s hair, yanking her head up. “A constantly disobedient, disrespectful attention-whore who never stops to think about the future. Hell, you’ll probably work at that diner for the rest of your life, popping out kid after kid and living on welfare.” He stood, pulling her to her feet along with him, holding her head so tight she thought her neck might snap.

“Is that what you want? Because that’s exactly where you’re headed.”

He shoved her again, but this time she caught her balance and starting running. But he only started after her, laughing loud, arrogant cackles as he called, “It’s a nice effort, but you don’t really think you’ll outrun me, do you?”

***

Her body aching with every movement, Kay stopped at the sign at the end of her road. She looked in the rear-view mirror to make sure her dad hadn’t woken up and come after her. But all she saw was a dark, empty street. Her hands shook as she pulled out her cell phone and scrolled through her contacts. Bypassing Alex’s name, she stopped on Daphne’s and hit send.

She held the phone to her ear and waited while the line rang three times, then four, her heart filling with anticipation. Finally, Daphne answered, sounding sleepy and concerned at the same time.

Kay opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly couldn’t bring herself to do it. The words were so close, right on her lips, and she couldn’t say them.
Help me
, she pleaded silently, wishing she could just say it out loud.

“Hello?” Daphne repeated.

Kay swallowed hard and squeezed her eyes shut, blurting out, “Daphne, I need your help really bad.”

“What happened?” She sounded fully awake and alert now. “Kay, are you hurt?”

“Can we meet somewhere?” she asked, trembling. “At that park by my house, maybe?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a few.”

Kay drove to the park and got there before Daphne, so she climbed out of her car and walked over to the swing set. As she took a seat, she thought about the times she’d played here as a child. Sometimes with Zander, sometimes alone. When her dad was overseas, she came here a lot just to escape her mother’s unbearable aloofness.

What an idiot she’d been to miss him. He’d come back wounded and bitter, then quickly turned violent, and their lives had been hell ever since.

Across the park, Daphne’s van pulled into the parking lot and Kay’s heart began to beat rapidly with dreading anticipation. She stood up and started toward the parking lot, and Daphne got out of the van, heading Kay’s way.

As Daphne passed under a streetlight, Kay saw she was still wearing a pair of plaid pajama pants and a tank top, with a sweater thrown over top. “Kay, what happened?” she asked as she came closer.

Kay stepped into the light, revealing her bruises and prompting a gasp from Daphne. Kay knew how bad she looked; she’d studied herself in the mirror for two hours after he fell asleep. Just staring, numb and shocked, watching as the colors changed and darkened. His temper had left her with two black eyes, a busted lip, fingerprints around her throat and huge bruises on her arms, from where he’d thrown her into the TV and into the bookshelf, which had fallen on her. 

“Oh honey,” Daphne exclaimed, coming closer, arms stretching out to pull her for a hug. But she stopped a foot short, as if thinking better of it. “Did the boy find you?”

Kay winced, shaking her head. “There was never any boyfriend,” she whispered, barely mustering the sound.

Realization dawned on her face, but she took another step closer, willing to listen without judgment.

“It’s my dad.” Saying the words, something inside her caved, and her emotions flooded over her like an avalanche. Pushing her to tears that wouldn’t stop, tears she’d stifled and buried for years. And her entire body drained of all energy, and her knees buckled under the pressure. But Daphne stepped up, stretching her arms out, and caught Kay in an embrace as she fell, guiding them both to their knees on the pavement.

Kay wrapped her arms around Daphne, sobbing into her shoulder, so grateful that she was there, listening to her and holding her tight, while her own mother was sleeping safely in another house, with another family, with no worries about Kay. So tired of the fighting, of the demeaning words leaving wounds so much worse than any she wore right now.

But as Daphne held Kay tight, whispering soothing words of encouragement, Kay knew her life had changed forever.

***

Daphne carried two steaming cups of tea over to the couch, where Kay sat with a throw blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She sat down and handed Kay the cup, waiting a moment before she finally said, “We really need to call the police.”

Kay shook her head gently, staring down into her cup. “I can’t, Daphne.”