Hope
Growing up in home filled with multiple dominant and loudly vocal men, I was accustomed to the hustle and noise that occurred whenever the family were all together in one place.
This, however, was so much different.
My brothers and Derek were on their feet.
My mother was wailing.
Teagan was shouting – I guess she felt the need to join into the chaos.
As for my father?
He was in front of me with his hands cupping my face, looking at it like his entire world had just been crushed to pieces.
In the madness, I could see Noah still sitting at the table, rubbing his temples, and I made a mental note to thank him later for keeping his mouth shut.
"What happened to you?" Dad choked out, his blue eyes locked on my cheek. "What the hell happened to you, angel?"
"I'm okay," I replied, not feeling the emotions required to fall apart right now.
I'd done enough of that in the past few months.
I'd done enough of that today.
I was all cried out.
"Okay?" Dad snarled, tone one of pure outrage. "How the fuck are you okay?"
To be honest, I had grown so used to looking at the jagged, hook-shaped scar on my face these past few months that it hadn't even occurred to me that my family would be horrified.
Obviously, I had known in the back of my mind they would freak the hell out, but I had been so consumed in my own pain and grief that I just…forced it from my head.
Besides, I didn’t look as bad now.
Sure, the left side of my face was still disgusting and gross, but the bruises on the rest of my body had healed up and disappeared completely.
I was no longer sporting that ugly black eye, and the pain was almost nonexistent.
With the exception of a little tenderness and some stinging, I was coping.
I was surviving.
"Seriously, Dad," I countered, ducking under his arms to get some much-needed space and gather my racing thoughts. "I'm fine."
The moment I broke free from my father's grasp, my mother was right there waiting to take over.
"Hope," Mom sobbed, hand covering her mouth, as she looked at me with horror bouncing in her gray eyes.
I couldn’t deal with this right now.
"I'm fine," I bit out, skirting around my mother's outstretched arms.
The time for falling apart had been weeks ago.
And I had done enough of that.
But I was pieced back together now, and not about to crumble.
"Some mother fucker is going to get his ass handed to him," Teagan hissed, joining my father in pacing the kitchen.
In all the chaos, I had to force back a smile at the sight of her antics.
She was going to town on the whole keeping my secret promise, and doing a mighty fine acting job.
Avoiding eye contact with my brothers, I slumped into one of the vacated chairs, and looked across at Noah.
He stared right back at me, his dark brown eyes locked on mine, before giving me a tight nod.
In that small move, I understood what he was trying to get across to me.
Keep your mouth shut.
No fricking problem.
I had no intention of revealing anything to my family.
The less they knew, the safer they were.
At least that's what I consoled myself with.
"How long have you guys been home?" I tried to change the subject by asking.
"Three days," Dad shot back. "Three long ass days with no call, text or reply from you."
"I'm sorry," I mumbled. "I haven't been checking my cell."
I've been too consumed in trying to come to terms with the fact that I'm pregnant and have no idea who the father is…
"If you don’t start talking, Hope Carter, I'm going to assume the worst," Dad hissed, pacing the kitchen like a jacked-up lunatic. "Which isn’t too fucking hard considering that cut on your face looks remarkably similar to the one on your mother's face."
A sob tore from my mother's throat, causing my Dad to lose his shit.
"God-fucking-dammit!" he roared, completely livid. "He did this to you, didn’t he?"
"No," I replied, keeping my eyes trained on Noah. My heart rate rose with every growl that ripped from my father's chest. "He didn’t do anything to me, Dad."
Not personally, at least.
"Then who did it?" Dad demanded. "Who the fuck put their hands on my daughter?"
"It doesn’t matter anymore," I squeezed out. "We're handling it."
"It doesn’t matter?" Cameron demanded, deciding to throw his two cents into the mix. "The hell it doesn’t!"
"Stay out of this, Cam –"
"And who's we?" Colton piped up.
"What the hell is going on, Hope?" Logan added.
"Tell us," Derek chimed in.
"I can't handle this," I shot back, flushed. "There are too damn many of you talking."
The only quiet person, aside from Noah, was my mother, who had come to sit beside me. Placing her hand on mine, she squeezed in reassurance.
"Hold up," Teagan screamed at a higher decimal than I'd ever heard in my whole, entire life. "Everybody just calm the fuck down and stop screaming so I can think this through!"
"Babe, you're the only one screaming here," Noah replied dryly.
"Well it's a screaming kind of situation," Teagan countered, still screaming, cheeks flushed. She looked to Noah for support. "Am I right?"
"You're absolutely right, Thorn," he agreed coaxingly, patting his knee.
Shoulders sagging, she waddled over to her husband and slumped down on his lap. "I'm too pregnant for this shit."
"David did this," Cam sneered, talking over me. "Doesn’t take a fucking genius to put that together."
"Cameron," Mom said with a weary sigh. "Let your sister speak."
"Why?" Cam demanded. "So she can tiptoe around the truth and lie through her goddamn teeth?" He shook his head. "Hell fucking no, Mom. This shit stops. Now."
"It wasn’t David!" I snarled, glaring at the oldest of my brothers, and it wasn’t a total lie. David hadn't taken the blade to my face. "So just back off."
"But he was involved," Cam shot back without a hint of hesitation, blue eyes locked on mine. "Don’t you dare try and deny it."
Exhaling a weary sigh, I just shook my head and said, "It's complicated, guys."
"Goddammit, Hope!" was Colton's unsympathetic response. "We can't help you if you don’t tell us what happened."
"She's protecting someone," Logan stated calmly, grey eyes locked on my face. "That's why she's not talking."
"Is that true?"
"Hope, who did this to you?"
"Are you covering for someone?
"Goddammit, tell us now!"
"Leave her alone," Mom snapped, raising her voice for the first time. "I'm warning you all. Back off, now."
Silence fell around us.
Finally, Colton said, "We're your family, Hope." His tone of voice was pleading. "It's our job to protect you."
"I don’t need to you protect me, Colt." Flustered, I pressed my hand to my forehead and struggled to contain my temper. "I just need–"
"Who hurt Hope?" a small voice asked, distracting us all.
I cringed when my little brothers walked into the kitchen.
Two innocent children caught up in a world of lies and corruption.
"Boys, go back down to the gym and work on those muscles," Noah said coaxingly, giving the boys his attention. "We've got some grown up talking to do up here."
"Someone hurt my sister," Cash shot back, defiance blazing in his blue eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Cash –" Dad began to say, but Cash interrupted him by saying, "I'll kill them, Hope." Jutting out his small chin, Cash looked straight at me and said, "I swear I'll do it."
My heart sank.
Fuck sinking, it shattered into pieces at the sound of those three words coming out of my nine-year-old baby brother's mouth.
Looking at these small, innocent children, and knowing the threat was lurking all around us, sickened me
"No one hurt me," I lied, forcing myself to smile and reassure his little heart. "I fell off my bicycle and cut my face on the gravel.
"Weren't you wearing a helmet?" Casey, who had been silent until now, asked.
"No, Case," I choked out. "I wasn’t."
Ignoring everyone else in the room, he walked over to where I was sitting and stared hard at my face. "You gotta wear a helmet, Hope. It's the rules."
I had to smile at his innocent response.
Taking my words literally was so typical Casey.
You see, my little brother had autism. It wasn’t something we talked much about because it didn’t matter to us.
To us, he was Casey Carter.
Autism was only one part of his personality. Never once had our parents treated Casey differently to the rest of us. We all had our quirks, traits and habits that crafted us into the people we were. And I think he was my favorite of them all.
His truth was beautiful and I wished I could see the world through his eyes sometimes because he honestly seemed to be the wisest one of all Mom and Dad's kids.
It was harder for him sometimes, but he had this amazing built-in coping mechanism, something any person would admire.
When he was first diagnosed, I was frightened for him. For his future. What would happen to him when he grew up? Would he cope with adulthood? Would he ever get married and have children? What would his future look like?
That fear was a crippling one. But then I got my ass into the library and read up. I trolled the internet and every forum I could find on ASD.
I'd never had any experience with autism before my brother, but I was determined to get informed. I was hell bent on figuring out every possible way and avenue in which I could help him, support him, and guide him.
Looking at him now, knowing he believed every word I was speaking, broke my heart a little.
"I know," I replied. "I promise I will wear a helmet the next time."
"Don’t be sad, Hope," Casey whispered. "You're still pretty." Reaching up, he pressed his small hand to my cheek. "Now you match Mom."
"Oh, Case," I half laughed, half sobbed, covering his small hand with mine.
He nodded solemnly. "Your face still makes me feel good." He pressed his tiny hand to his chest. "In here."
"God, I fricking love you so much, Case."
"I know," was his simple response before throwing another curveball into the mix by asking, "Where's Lucky?"
"Lucky?" I squeezed out, feeling my face flame.
"Yeah," Casey confirmed with a solemn nod. "I need to talk to him."
You're not the only one…
"About what, Case?"
"He promised to take me to the comic con yesterday. He told me months ago that he would." Casey frowned and bit down on his bottom lip. "I was gonna be Iron Man and Lucky said he'd be Thor. And I waited and waited for him, but he didn’t come get me, Hope."
"Boys," Dad growled, interrupting us as he rubbed his jaw in barely restrained frustration. "Please go back downstairs. Mom and I really need to talk to your sister."
"Come on, boys," Teagan announced, tone bright and full of forced excitement. "Let's go see if we can find some of Uncle Noah's old fight tapes."
"Cool!" both boys cheered in unison before scampering off with Teagan, all thoughts of revenge and comic conventions forgotten.
"Come on, Hope," Derek began to say once Teagan and the boys were gone. "Talk to us. We're worried about you."
Derek looked at me with the same green eyes Jordan bore.
The same way he used to look before the heroin had taken a hold of him.
It was a painful reminder of my stark reality.
I was certain I hadn't just lost Jordan today.
Once Derek found out about what I'd done, I would lose him, too.
The adopted uncle who had helped raise me.
Protected me from harm.
When it all came out, he would hate me, too.
"I'm not the one you need to worry about," I told him, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.
Derek balked. "Jordan?" Concern flashed across his features. "What's wrong?" Panic rose in his voice as he said, "I've been calling and visiting for weeks now, and he's not answering."
"Because he's drinking again," I whispered, hating myself for still caring so much.
I didn’t want to care anymore.
I wanted to wash my hands clean.
But I couldn’t.
"And he's using, too. Heroin, I think. The one with the needle. So maybe you should concentrate on him. I can handle myself."
Derek flinched at my words.
I didn’t say it to hurt him, but he needed to do something.
I was done being the anchor that held Jordan Porter's world together.
He needed to be his son's anchor, or better still, help him realize that he could become his own.
"No," Derek choked out, sounding winded. It was one word, but it brought with it so much pain and emotion. "Why?"
"He's an addict," I whispered, pressing my thumbs to my temples. "That's what they do."
"Hope," Mom gasped, cheeks turning bright pink. "Don’t say that."
"Say what, Mom?" I demanded, turning to give her my full attention. "The truth? Because that's what this is. He is an addict." I felt the sting of tears build up in my eyes, but I quickly batted them away, refusing to add another tear to the cesspool of pain I was drowning in.
"Why didn’t you tell me before now?" Derek demanded. "How long have you known?"
Because he threatened me with Hunter's freedom, that's why I didn’t tell you!
"I don’t know," I choked out instead, feeling guiltier with every word that spilled from my lips.
"You don’t know?" Derek countered, paling. "Jesus Christ, Hope. This is his life we're talking about."
"I'm sorry, okay!" I strangled out. "I tried to help him and he threw it back in my face." Shaking, I exhaled a huge ragged breath before saying, "He doesn’t want my help, and I'm tired of trying to fix everything."
"That's because he's in pain," Derek roared, trembling from head to toe with barely restrained frustration. "Because he doesn’t think he deserves help!"
"I’m sorry," I repeated, feeling dead inside. "But I can't read his mind."
"Is that what happened?" Cam demanded, staring hard at me, letting me know with one look that he had more insight about my 'situation' than most people in this kitchen. "Did he hurt you?"
I opened my mouth to speak, but Derek was in there first, back stiff and tone outraged.
"Don’t you dare even think about putting the blame on my son for this," Derek snarled, springing to Jordan's defense. "This has your fucked-up grandfather written all over it."
"Der," Dad said, moving to stand beside his best friend. "It never entered my mind, man. Not one time."
How wrong you are, Dad…
Derek, who up until this moment looked like he was two seconds away from kicking my brother's ass, sagged at my father's words.
Dad placed his hands on his shoulders and said, "Go to your kid. Whatever's going on here? I've got it."
I watched Derek stalk out of the kitchen with a heavy heart.
He was already blaming me for this.
Well, get in line…
"Hope," Mom choked out, gray eyes wide and locked on my face in disbelief. "Jordan has relapsed and you didn’t do anything?"
"What the fuck is she supposed to do?" That was Cam; angry and glaring, but still coming to my rescue. "She's not his fucking keeper, Mom," he added with an aggravated growl. "He's a grown ass man, making his own grown ass decisions."
"Do you have to be so heartless?" Mom countered, tone laced with hurt.
"I’m being real here," Cam shot back. "If that makes me heartless, then so fucking be it." He ran a hand through his dark brown hair and shrugged. "And to be quite fucking honest, I couldn’t give a shit about his recreational habits right now. Someone hurt my sister. Call it what you want, Mom, but my priorities are right on track."
Colton raised his hand. "I'm right there with him, Mom."
"Where the fuck have you been?" my father demanded then, glaring at the kitchen doorway, and distracting me from my thoughts. "I've been calling you for weeks!"
I swung around and almost died on the spot when my eyes landed on Hunter.
Oh god.
He was back.