Page 83 of The Other Side

Tears stab the pockets of my eyes. Everything inside of me shouts to dart from this kitchen. Maybe even this house.

His eyes are sheathed with a thirst. Like they’re hungry for revenge.

He feels wronged.

The malice weaved through his pupils waves at me like a red flag. And I know that if I turn my back on them, my punishment will be much worse than whatever he has in store for me.

I’ve seen eyes like this before. Eyes I know all too well.

Daddy’s.

Only, I forgot one small detail. A side effect of being estranged from your former life for ten years, I suppose.

Never make them wait.

The back of Jesse’s hand strikes the side of my face. My body spins until I’m landing with my palms over the sink frame, and a blunt throb crawls along my cheek.

I shoot my hand up to apply pressure to the cruel bite. My eyelids fall through a daze, and my gaze blurs through the shock.

Ragged breaths strain from my lungs in a stunted rhythm. “You hit me,” I whisper.

“I told you never to embarrass me, Callie,” Jesse grinds out.

He leans over my side with one palm still splayed on the granite. The brush of his dress shirt is like a lick of venom against my bare arm.

“I give you everything under the fucking sun, and this is how you choose to show your appreciation?”

I tremble through a shaky sigh, turning away from him. “Don’t ever touch me,” I whisper. I’m spinning around in the next second, seething the same words through my teeth. “Don’t ever touch me.”

He buries his hands into his slacks pockets, his eyes locked on mine as he steps forward. My heart crumbles, my arms fearfully crossing over my torso when I retreat.

“You’re going to honor me the way a husband deserves to be respected. You understand me?” he demands.

My chin is tilted toward him as he invades my space. The beats of my heart evaporate while pins and needles choke my soul. Numbing it to its core. Until the last bit of color Jesse painted on my life fades to black.

And I’m reunited with someone in that dark space.

That broken girl from the trailer park.

She’s sad and angry. Bitter. Scared and hopeless.

She’s stuck.

I always thought when I was older, I would take her hand and lead her into the light that glistens on the other side. But instead, I’m taking a seat right beside her and suffering a familiar pain.

It’s true.

I failed her.

I prioritized financial security, all the while playing with the same demons I once did. I was allured by how everything appeared so different. Everything was so estranged from those hills.

I wanted instant gratification. A prompt solution I was always so desperate for. But I failed to peel back all the layers.

Jesse is lipstick drawn on a pig.

A refined costume thrown over Daddy.

My throat bobs when I nod. I immediately chuck my head away from his stare, and in the next breath, Jesse’s exiting the kitchen.