Chapter 12

My ‘give a fuck’ is still broken. However, my ‘go fuck yourself’ is still highly functional.

-Text from Tate to Hennessy

Hennessy

“I know you committed the ultimate sin.”

The snarled voice had me opening my eyes a split second before I was dragged out of my bed by my hair, wrenched upward, and shaken.

“Stop!” I cried out, knowing who it was without opening my eyes.

“Tell me you didn’t.”

I couldn’t tell him. Because I did it.

I knew what he was asking.

Did I have sex.

Yes, I had.

I wasn’t a good liar. All my times being beaten when I was younger attested to that.

I couldn’t lie for shit, and my father had excellent lie detection.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I cried.

My head was on fire where he was holding me up, and I knew better than to struggle, though everything inside of me was demanding that I should.

“You know what I’m talking about, little girl,” he growled.

Then a sharp pain burst over my face, making me cry out involuntarily.

“I have to go to work tomorrow,” I cried out, feeling the pain of his slap on my cheek. “People will see.”

“You’ll cover it like you did all the rest,” he growled. “Now, stand up.”

I found my feet, and knew what was coming next.

The slice of the blade through my hair, the way I could feel his cold fury over my back.

“You’re lucky I don’t take it all like I did when you were younger.”

I was, I supposed.

Still, it hurt to know that all the work that I’d put into growing it out, and nurturing it over the last four years, was all gone.

By the time he was done, my hair was hacked off at my shoulders, leaving me to stare at the floor in defeat.

I should’ve fought back.

I should’ve done something!

But then I remembered the last time I tried to ‘do something.’

It hadn’t worked out then, and wouldn’t have worked out now.

As I heard the door slam, I dropped to my knees and started to cry.

Only later did I stand up, get dressed for work, and go into the office over two hours early.

If I was in that house one more single second, then I’d literally scream.

***

Hours later, as I looked up at the sound of the outer office door opening, I saw Tate opening the door.

He was looking down at his phone, his fingers typing out a message with one hand, while the other pulled on the knob.

I took a deep breath, ran my hands down my hair, and immediately winced.

Yeah, today I didn’t look like the Hennessy I’d been hoping to turn into. Today I looked like that old, scared girl that used to hide in the corners with the shadows every time my father pulled one of his many stunts.

My neck was freakin’ cold.

And my eyes were starting to sting.

Stop it, Hennessy! This isn’t helping matters!

My inner torment went unnoticed to the man as he stepped into the room, still on his phone.

“Morning, darlin’,” he said. “Give me just one more minute. Gotta figure out this map where I’m supposed to pick up a car in an hour, bothering the shit out of me.”

“Okay,” I replied as I leaned forward, grabbing my cup and taking another sip of coffee.

Thank God, I had a coffee maker at the office. Otherwise, I’d be lost right about now.

Coffee was my only addiction. My one vice that I overindulged in, and probably shouldn’t.

I had a heart condition. One that caused my heart to skip beats, and beat irregularly the rest of the time. It was suggested to me to stop drinking anything with caffeine in it entirely. Oh, and give up chocolate.

Neither one of those had happened as of yet, and I am still ticking!

“Done.”

I looked up to find him staring at me oddly.

I knew that he was going to ask the moment he walked in the door.

“Hennessy,” he hesitated. “What’s going on with…”

He gestured toward my head, and I grimaced.

I shrugged. “I haven’t been able to get to the beauty salon yet today.”

That wasn’t a good answer. I knew it.

What I also knew was that he likely wouldn’t stand for it.

I had to come up with a plausible lie. One that slid out of my mouth easily.

I could…

Tate walked up to me and cradled my head. His breath was on my face, and I couldn’t make my mind form cohesive thoughts between one breath and the next.

All because I could smell him. And he was touching me.

“Try again,” he ordered. “This time tell me what happened.”

I tried to think. Tried to make my brain formulate a response that wouldn’t piss him off.

But I couldn’t.

“My…dad.”

He frowned.

“Your dad?”

I nodded.

“What about your dad?” he asked. “Did he spit some gum in it?”

He was joking.

Oh, God.

That smile was about to be wiped straight off his face, and he was going to be one pissed off alpha male.

Then a horrid thought occurred to me, and I had to rethink my strategy. Not even his closeness could stop me now.

“Will you promise me something?”

He pursed his lips.

“Is this promise going to mean that you won’t tell me if I don’t promise?”

I nodded.

I didn’t want him going to jail again because of me.

“Okay, hit me with it.”

I worried my lip for a half a second, then shrugged, deciding to hell with it.

“Promise me that when you hear what I have to tell you, that you’ll not do anything stupid.”

He studied my face with humor filled eyes.

“Define stupid,” he ordered.

I contemplated what ‘stupid’ was for a few moments, then nodded.

“Stupid is beating someone up. Stupid is shooting someone. Stupid is doing anything about this that doesn’t involve using your words.”

His face sobered instantly.

“Okay,” he reluctantly agreed. “I promise.”

I couldn’t tell if he was lying or not, or if he actually planned on following through with his promise, but I needed to get last night off my chest.

Normally I would’ve said something to Krisney, but the last time my father did this, she’d told me that her promises—one similar to the one that I’d just had Tate promise to—were no longer valid if he ever did it again.

And I couldn’t risk that.

Nobody at the police station would do anything, and honestly, who would believe that the beloved town preacher that everyone loved would do anything to harm his own daughter?

That’s right. No one.

Except, maybe this guy.

He hadn’t been there from the beginning like Krisney had. He hadn’t seen the things Krisney had. But still, he was here. And he wanted to know.

I was also sure—down to my bones—that this man would believe every single word that came out of my mouth when it came to my father.

“My father hacked it off with a hunting knife about as long as my arm,” I blurted.

He blinked, then blinked some more.

“You’re…serious.”

I nodded, wincing slightly. The feel of the uneven wisps of hair touching my neck on one side, and my shoulder on the other, had me growing nauseous all over again.

I was frantically scribbling on my notepad, trying not to look at the man in front of me, when I felt the notepad ripped from my hands.

I looked up to find Tate kneeling on a knee beside my chair, his hand extended to my hair.

“I’ll fucking…”

“You can’t,” I said. “You made me a promise.”

His lip turned up into a silent snarl.

“You’re goddamn deranged if you think I’m not doing anything about this,” he growled, his eyes angry and hard.

Knowing that anger was for me really made my heart feel full, despite my awful night.

It was nice knowing that I had not just one good friend on my side, but now two.

“What exactly are you going to say, and who will you say it to that freakin’ believes it?” I pushed. “Nobody knows that my father is a freakin’ jerk. Nobody realizes that he’s anything other than the nice man that they think he is. Trust me on this, I’ve tried to tell them about the beatings…”

“The beatings?”

I winced at the low roar that came out of his mouth.

“Uhhh,” I hedged.

He cupped my face and forced me to look at him.

“You’re going to tell me about everything right now.”

I laughed. “This is your session, silly. Not mine.”

He bared his teeth. “Don’t give one single fuck about my shit right now. Let’s talk about yours.”

I was already shaking my head. “I don’t talk about it. Ever.”

He stood up and planted his ass on the coffee table in front of me, then crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’ll go nowhere, and do nothing, until you tell me.”

I shrugged.

“Fine.”

And that was how, forty-eight minutes later, I realized that he’d do exactly that. He’d sit there, and wait…forever if he had to.

He’d sat there, in the same exact place, staring at me as I tried to ignore him. When his appointment came to an end, and another appointment started to head inside, I immediately realized that I wasn’t going to get out of this.

“I’ll tell you…tonight,” I told him. “Not right now. Talking about it isn’t good. Ask Krisney.”

Tate’s eyes were hard.

“I don’t want to ask Krisney. I want to hear it from the source—IE, you.”

I sighed. “I’ll tell you tonight. Just make sure you know that you’ll have to take care of a drunk Hennessy after we’re through.”

“Takes alcohol to make you talk?”

I shrugged. “My father makes that patient,” I said, gesturing to the schizophrenic man that was glaring at me through the glass, “look like a fairy princess.”

Tate growled low in his throat and stood.

“I’ll be at your house at eight.”

With that, he left, leaving me with a few minutes to breathe.

At least until the pounding on my office door started. “You’re late! We’re late! Everyone will be late!”

Grumbling under my breath, I opened the office door and let him in.

“Sorry about the wait.”