Page 91 of Sterling Touch
I do nothing but nod. No-questions-asked. I’ll explain myself to Hudson later.
When we pullup in front of the Stanton’s house, all three kids are outside, huddled together. Hudson has his arm around Atticus who leans forward with his head on his knees. Amelia sits close beside Hudson on his other side.
Cort and I hop out of his truck at the same time, and I race up the sidewalk, instantly cupping Hudson’s face to inspect him.
“I’m fine, Mom.” He exhales heavily. “It’s Atticus.”
Reaching for the child, I lift his head and discover a large welt beneath his eye. “What happened?”
Atticus doesn’t speak but Amelia whispers in a quivering voice. “Daddy.”
Cort is up the porch stairs in one giant step.
“Cort,” I cry out as he thunders across the wooden planks and opens the screen door with so much force, it hits the exterior of the house. He helps himself to enter and I glance back at all three kids.
“Stay right here. Hudson, call 9-1-1 if you hear anything.”
“Mom,” he gasps.
I step around him and rush up the porch steps myself. I don’t want to imagine what might happen, but Cort has entered the Stanton home, Henry unaware, and as Henry is clearly unhinged, I can’t risk Cort surprising him.
“Cort,” I quietly call out, searching the lower-level rooms before he thunders back down the staircase, meeting me at the bottom.
“Fucking bastard. He’s out cold.” He breaths heavily.
“You hit him?” I shriek.
“Passed out drunk,” Cort clarifies with a shake of his head. He glances toward the front porch. “Let’s get them out of here.”
As we step toward the front door, I suggest, “We should call Stone.”
Cort simply shakes his head. “You need a sheriff report now.” Which reminds me Stone is out of town. “I’m a mandated reporter, Vale.”
As a coach, he’s obligated to report abuse to the authorities.
As Cort approaches Atticus, he crouches in front of him. “Hey, buddy. Want to tell me what happened?”
Atticus rolls his head side to side. “Can we just get out of here?” He shivers in his thin shirt and pajama pants, minus shoes. Hudson still has his arm around his friend while only slightly better dressed in pajamas plus his gym shoes. His backpack is on the step behind him. Amelia clutches a blue bear to her chest and is dressed like she’s headed to a sporting event. Leggings, gym shoes and a large, zippered sweatshirt.
“Let’s go,” I whisper, reaching down for Cort’s shoulder in his hunched position in front of Atticus. “We can talk later.”
Hudson and I share a glance, and he nods once, then stands and guides Atticus to follow his lead. As Atticus steps toward Cort, Hudson takes Amelia’s hand, and I wrap my arm around her as we guide all three kids to Cortland’s truck.
Once in the backseat, Atticus closes his eyes and tips his head against the window. Hudson stares out the opposite window while Amelia sits between them.
I have so much I want to ask but bite my tongue other than to whisper to Cort, “Thank you.”
He reaches for my hand across the center console and gives my fingers a squeeze, then holds on. I risk another glance at the kids in the back seat but don’t pull free from Cort’s hand, needing his touch to ground me.
When we got back to the house, Cort follows us inside, and I don’t argue with him. I retrieve a bag of peas and hand it toCort for Atticus’s cheek, then I take Amelia to the guest room she was previously in. Cort leads Atticus and Hudson to my son’s room.
“Okay, sweetheart. Did he hurt you?” I ask, running my hand over Amelia’s head while inspecting her face.
She shakes her head and her lips quiver again. “He’s never done that before. He yells a lot and makes threats, but he’s never hit us.” She swallows around a sob. “I don’t even know what happened. I just heard him yelling and then Atticus screamed. Dad slammed his bedroom door, and I waited a few minutes before I snuck into my brother’s room.”
She leans forward, covering her face while she cries, and I tug her to me, wrapping my arms around her thin frame.
I’ll kill Henry Stanton for frightening his daughter and hurting his son. There will be no mercy for him.
