Heather
Rone looked bad. It looked like he’d just been hit by a bus. No, that was too cliche. It looked like he’d been beaten into a bloody pulp by the rage machine that was her brother. Jay. His best friend.
Walking back into the living room, hands full of a bowl of warm water and a wash cloth and a few ice packs she’d found in the freezer, Heather wanted to weep all over again. She literally felt sick as she stared at the wreckage of Rone’s face. Both his eyes were nearly swollen shut. Blood trickled from cuts on his forehead and his scalp. His lips were torn and bloody. His jaw was already blackening, as were his cheekbones.
If the external damage was that bad what did the inside look like? She just prayed that her brother hadn’t done something to Rone that was irreversible. Rone could press assault charges. Her brother might go to jail for this. Because of her. Because she wanted Rone. Because she loved Rone. It was her love that had put him here. It was because of her that he looked like he did.
“Rone?” She sat down gently on the edge of the couch next to him. His breathing was shallow, as though it hurt to even let air in and out of his lungs. It probably did, judging from how Jay had pummeled Rone’s chest and torso as well.
His head turned towards her and she let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t unconscious then. She wrung out the washcloth and began to dab gently at the dried blood on his forehead. She steered away from the cuts, which were just closing over, not wanting to reopen them. She wiped the blood out of his swollen eyes. His nose was swelled up too, though it didn’t look broken. It wasn’t gushing blood at least. She dabbed at his raw lips next before she moved onto his cheeks.
When she wrung out the cloth, she gasped at the bloody water in the bowl. It was such a bright, angry red.
“That good, huh?” Rone rasped.
Heather choked back the sob threatening to tear loose from her throat. She swallowed hard and forced a calmness she didn’t feel.
“It’s pretty bad,” she admitted. “Do you think anything’s broken? Should I take you to the hospital?”
Rone’s response was instant. “No. If you do, they’ll call the police.”
“Jesus. This is such a mess. I’m so sorry. For everything. This is all my fault.”
He reached out blindly, searching for something, anything. She gripped his hand and placed it on the side of her face. Her tears streamed down, soaking his fingers.
“Don’t say that,” he rasped. The words were odd sounding, slurred through his swollen mouth. “This isn’t your fault at all. You aren’t to blame for Jay’s anger. I knew what the consequences would be right from the start. I’d do it all again. A thousand times.”
His words cut her to the quick. She didn’t want to break down and weep. She knew that wouldn’t make anything better. She just couldn’t stop the tears. Thankfully they poured down her cheeks in silence. She slowly removed Rone’s hand and placed one of the ice packs in his palm.
“I don’t know where you want to use this. It’s pretty inadequate right now.” Rone lifted the ice-pack to the right side of his face. She had one more so she held it to the other side, right near his swollen eye. “I don’t want to freeze your skin. Maybe I should get a towel from the kitchen to wrap around them.”
“It’s fine,” Rone tried to assure her. His mouth worked, but no sound came out. She waited, every single muscle horrible tense. She felt his pain. She ached for him.
“Why didn’t you fight back? I know you could have kicked Jay’s ass, or at least given as good as you got.”
He shook his head then winced. “I didn’t want that,” he rasped. “It wouldn’t solve anything. This way, maybe he got it all out.”
“I broke your lamp…”
A sound, something close to a horrible gurgling laugh emerged. “I don’t give a shit about the lamp.”
“I doubt Jay will forget that any time soon. Maybe he’ll think twice before he comes in here like a maniac.”
“Doubt it.”
“Oh, Rone, I’m so sorry!” Heather said again. She couldn’t stop herself. She knew she couldn’t keep apologizing, but she didn’t know what else there was to say. “Rone is your friend. He’s like a brother to you. I can’t believe he did this. I thought he’d see reason if I talked to him. I thought he’d understand. Worst of all, he said those things… I’m sorry for him. That he said what he did. He had no right…”
Rone made that half moan, half horrible strangled groan deep in his throat again. He turned to stare at her, though he couldn’t see her at all. She could hardly stand to look at his poor face, but she made herself keep her gaze trained there.
“Heather…”
She knew what he was going to say. She shook her head. She had one hand holding the ice-pack in place on his eye and cheek, but she moved the other and set it gently on his jaw. “No. Don’t say anything. You don’t have to explain. Those were your secrets. That’s your pain. Jay had no right-”
“I thought I was everything he said for such a long time… weak- disgusting- broken.”
The ache in Heather’s heart was so painful she actually wondered if it was possible for it to stop beating. Could pain like that kill a person? She certainly felt like she was dying. Her entire body ached. The tears, endless tears, rained down her cheeks.
“I didn’t know, Rone. But if I had, it wouldn’t have changed how I felt. It doesn’t change how I feel now. You were just a kid-”
“I swear nothing happened. He came into my room once. Put his hand under my shirt… he- fuck- he caressed my skin there. Touched my- my- nipple. I shot out of bed and got around him. Ran out of the room. I went to the kitchen and took a knife out of the drawer. I said I’d kill him if he ever came near me. I lit out of there, still holding that damn knife. I went- to the only place that I knew was safe. Your- your house. Your mom- took me in. She called the cops. They threatened to take me away from my mom, but she fought for me and got me back. That’s why I was at your house for so long. She said it would never happen again. It didn’t… not that- but- what Jay said was true. She was always on something. Never could get clean. Always- drunk. I used to- clean her up sometimes-”
“Oh god. You should never have had to go through that. I knew your mom maybe didn’t have it together. I knew she drank a little here and there, dated a few guys… I just- didn’t know how bad it was. How could you have grown up like that?”
She had the feeling Rone tried to smile right before he coughed. The sound was deep and wracking and alarmingly, a thin line of pink spittle formed on his lips.
He turned his face back to hers and if he’d been able to open his eyes, she knew the pain would have been obvious in their deep, liquid depths. “How did I survive? I had you. You and Jay and your family. You saved me. You made me a part of your home.”
A wave of sorrow swept over her, ripped through her, cut off her breath. If she was standing, she knew her legs would have given way. She couldn’t help herself. She knew she was hurting him, but she couldn’t stop. She moved, edging into Rone, draping herself over him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held her face there, close to his.
His raspy, labored breaths mingled with her sobs. She didn’t even know if she was still crying. It didn’t matter. Her sobs came from deep in her chest. When she could finally speak again, she whispered, her voice so raw and scratchy, she could barely even understand her words.
“I’m still your family. I’ll always be here. Always. I love you, Rone. It will get better, I promise. All of this. We’ll have our happy ending. We’ll find it together. I swear, I’m never going to leave you. No one, certainly not my brother, is going to change my mind. If I had one of those jackknives right now, I’d cut my own hand and swear it to you, like you and Jay swore that oath all those years ago.”
Rone actually chuckled. It was a terrible, strained sound followed by a painful cough and labored breathing. He tried to smile, but his lips were so swollen it was a ghastly parody of expression.
“You don’t have to. I never wanted to cause you pain. All my life I’ve wanted to protect you. It’s why I- I stayed away. And now you know who I- who I really am.”
“I’ve always known who you were. Always. And this…” she gently guided his hand to her pounding heart. “This is yours. It’s always been yours. I’ve never wanted anyone else. Ever. And Jay… he’ll either come around or he won’t. It’s never going to change the way I feel. He tried to come here and rip us apart, but he’ll never be able to do that. I’ve waited too long for this. For you. I’m not giving up. Next time I’ll be the one to fight him if I have to. I’ll find another fucking lamp.”
Rone laughed again, but groaned a second later. “Stop! I can’t laugh right now without feeling like I’m going to die.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.” Rone’s hand landed protectively on her back. His large fingers splayed out and the heat of him soaked right through her shirt, into her. She rested her face in the crook of his neck, warming him with her breath. “I always thought you were an angel,” he rasped. “But I was wrong. You’re a damn hellcat.”
“That’s right. Don’t forget it. I’ll fight for what’s mine.”
“I’m glad for that. Lord knows I won’t survive round two.”
Heather let her arms tightened around Rone’s neck. Neither of them moved. They just sat like that, wrapped up in each other, hurting and aching and loving. She knew the pain was far from over. She thought she knew everything there was to know and then she found out Rone had a past she knew nothing about. She thought she knew her brother too, but she was wrong. He’d reacted like a stranger, a man she didn’t even recognize. The struggles were really just starting, but she wasn’t giving up. She wasn’t a quitter. She was tough, given an extra dose of spirit to make up for her small stature.
She was no longer afraid or uncertain of their future together. She loved Rone and she’d do whatever it took to help him heal. Not just from the physical wounds, but from all the ones she couldn’t see. From the lacerations on his soul, his spirit, his heart. He was hers and she’d walk whatever road she had to, right by his side. She’d waited a lifetime for him and she’d give the rest of her years to keep loving him.