Page 131 of Run
“Sophie used to drive me, and she would set a timer on her phone and tell me that if I wasn’t out in fifteen minutes she was calling the cops. But then, after the burn—”
“The burn? You mean …”
“Yes. When I said I burned my hand cooking for Meg. That was a lie, Ethan. It’s one of many lies I’ve told you.”
My mind is a flurry of hate, and betrayal, and sadness.
When Ari looks back at me, our faces are only inches apart. “He burned you?” The words barely escape my lips.
She tilts her head. “Actually, I think that was unintentional. Or at least, just a consequence of being in his presence. But, yes,that happened at his house. When I got to the car that day, Soph insisted on driving me to the hospital, and then to the police station. But I talked her out of it. Ethan, I convinced her—I promised her—that I wouldn’t go back. And she believed me.”
“But you kept going back.” It’s not a question. I carefully lift the hem of her shirt and drag it up her arms and over her head, leaving her in her bra. There’s a dark spot forming on her back, by her ribs.
“I kept going back,” she confirms.
“What happened tonight?” I reach over and grab a washcloth off the shelf against the wall, then turn on the faucet for a moment to dampen it. I dab the washcloth under her swelling eye.
“For some reason, I was just asking for it today.” I freeze while she stares off at nothing. “Remember when I was young and shy and quiet? Well, I’m not that girl anymore. Now, I take pride in standing up to him. Purposely making him angry.” She frowns and shrugs, like she knows just how fucked up the words are that are coming out of her mouth. “I like showing him I can take whatever he dishes out. That he hasn’t completely broken me.”
She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Today, I didn’t bring him any money.”
“You still bring him money?” I ask in disbelief.
She nods. “Yep. But not today. Today I said I didn’t have any for him, so that pissed him off right from the start. Then, I told him he was useless since he couldn’t cook his own dinner. And then I went so far as to say that’s why Lena always has someone on the side.” She swallows. “It was that last part that really got to him.”
I bite my bottom lip so hard I taste blood. “What did he do?”
“He broke a wooden kitchen chair over my back, and then grabbed a leg that broke off and pummeled me with it. When I didn’t want to take anymore, I ran. I ran out back, over theempty field and to the creek. It’s still frozen right now. I stayed there for, God, I don’t know how long. I heard you calling and texting, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer the phone. I couldn’t face you.”
I can barely control the rage that erupts through me as my breathing picks up and my fists clench. I have to stand up and pace as nervous energy burns through my limbs.
“I can’t,” I stop and try to control myself. “I can’t understand this, Ari. Help me to understand this.” I look down at her as she picks at her fingernails. Her face tilts back up and she looks at me. Her cheek is already darkening, as is the dried blood on her lip.
“He’s my dad, Ethan.”
“He what? Shit, Ari, he’s not your dad!”
“He is,” Ari asserts from her seat on the side of the tub. “He’s the only dad I know.”
“Larry is your dad! The Millers are your family, Ari. They fucking love you. They treat you right and take care of you and protect you!”
“I know. I know, and I wish they were my parents. I wish to God I were raised by them, Ethan. I know this is screwed up. Like I said, I don’t expect you to understand it. But—”
“But what, Ari?”
“I don’t know! It’s like”—she huffs out a laugh—“it’s almost like I miss him sometimes.”
Turning and placing my palms on the sink, I hang my head and take deep breaths for what feels like eternity. Finally, I hear Ari’s sweet voice. “Ethan?” When I don’t answer, I hear it again. “Ethan?” This time, a sob catches in her throat. I turn my head and see tears streaming down her face.
This is the first time I’ve ever seen her cry.
“Do you hate me?” she asks in a shaky voice.
I can’t answer her immediately. The truth is, part of me just might hate her. No, not her. I hate this situation. I hate the way she thinks. I hate the way Axel has manipulated her.
Sad eyes search mine in the silence until, finally, I say, “No, Red. I don’t hate you.” My eyes hold hers. “But you break my fucking heart.”
She lets out a sob and starts apologizing, tears rolling down her face and off her lips. Crouching down, I take her face in my hands. I want to take it all away. I want to wipe away her tears, and the blood, and soothe the bruises, but I can’t. I can’t stay here one more second knowing Axel is likely passed out at home, in a satisfied sleep, proud of his handiwork. I tear my eyes from Ari’s and stand up.
