Darkness Before Dawn

haven't figured that out yet."
    "Why can't you...can't you sneak me out while he's away?" I ask, trying not to sound as hopeful as I feel.
    "Hell no. I wanna help you, not get myself killed!" he scoffs.
    I blink at him. "They'd kill you? But you just said they're your family!"
    A bitter laugh escapes him before he says, "Yeah...family. Family means everything and nothing to people like Benny. These people have your back until you fuck up, chick. It's an eye for an eye out there. You cross them—you die."
    I get lost in a trance, pondering his words. I wonder who has the vendetta against my supposed family. Is it Alex or is it Benny? And who's ultimately in charge of my fate in all of this? I know that if Benny is the one in charge, I am royally screwed because he clearly hates me beyond anything I've ever seen before. He acts as though I killed his dog or something. Alex doesn't like me either, he'd rather not look at me at all. It just doesn't seem fair that I would have to pay for something that people I don't even know did to them over twenty years ago. Not only that, they seem convinced that my father, who is supposedly alive, and his people, are going to want me back. But why would he? Why would any of them want me back? If they did, wouldn't they have looked for me years ago? I mull over these thoughts as I drift to sleep, hoping I'm wrong and that they do want me and do believe I'm alive. Because the only thing I know without a doubt is that whoever they are, they're the only ones keeping me alive. Just like Cole is the only one keeping me sane.

 

    I rub my eyes and stretch with a yawn, rolling over to look for Cole until I feel the cold of the sheets beside me. When I open my eyes I realize I'm not home but still trapped in this hell. The voices coming from outside the door confirm it. The light that seeps in from under the door is the only thing brightening the room a little. Sitting up, I try to listen closely, hoping to make out who's here before heading to the bathroom. I step into the bathroom and close the door, locking the dread behind me before leaning against it and sliding down to the floor. My eyes jump from one tiny white tile to the other and I look around at the bathroom that has become my sanctuary. I examine my arms and notice that the bruises are slowly disappearing. Thanks to Dean's daily visits, Benny hasn't been able to lay a hand on me. I finally gather the strength to pick up my lethargic body and head straight to the shower, peeling off my clothes on the way. I stand below the water before it gets too cold, not that it's warm to begin with. As I lather my hair, my mind drifts to my loved ones, as it always does. I wonder what Cole is doing today, how he's coping. How Aubry's doing and whether Becky and Greg have gone to visit them. So many questions that I don't have the answers to, and the longer I'm here, the less likely that I will.
    Sitting under the shower head, I bring my knees up to my chest and let the water prickle my back as I watch it drain away the soap and tears. I close my eyes and think of Maggie and Aunt Shelley, the women I leaned on during the most important years of my life. I haven't let myself think of either one of them in a long time, not wanting to experience the pain of losing them again, but I can't help it as I wonder what they would do in this situation, what kind of advice they would provide me with. They were so caring, so patient, so resilient. Even in her last days, Aunt Shelley never let me see her break down, not once.
    Loud pounding on the bathroom door breaks me from my daydream, and I get up quickly to turn off the water and get out of the shower. The pounding on the door continues until I yell out that I'm almost done. Once I'm dressed, I take a deep breath and decide that I will not let them break me; I won't let my family down. I open the door and see Dean on the other side, wearing a plaid blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jeans, and black boots. His dark hair is perfectly styled, and even the shadow of a beard looks pretty good on him. My eyes trail down his slim body and stay glued to the tattoos I see on his left forearm, until his chuckle brings me to meet his twinkling hazel eyes.
    "Well, this is a change," he says, the side of his mouth forming in a slight smile.
    "What is?" I ask, crinkling my eyebrows.
    "You. Checking me out instead of glaring at me," he says as a slow smile spreads on his face.
    My mouth pops open