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Perfect Lie(61)

By:Teresa Mummert


“It takes time,” Abel said, “but I’m getting there.”

“I’d sell it and buy something new.”

“Yeah.” He glanced around as he rubbed his hand over his jaw. “You probably would. You’re good at running.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” I snapped.

“I deserve that.” Abel cringed, and I hated myself for taking a jab at him. Old habits die hard.

“No, you didn’t.” I sighed. “It’s hard to let the walls down.”

“You’re in luck.” Abel walked through the living room to a smaller room that sat behind it. I followed, stopping in the doorway as he picked up a sledgehammer that had a handle at least three feet long. “I happen to be a semiprofessional wall remover, Kettle. It’s a very prestigious title, not to be taken lightly.” He smirked, the dimples in his cheeks settling in deeply.

“Really? You brought me here to work?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You gonna force me at gunpoint?” I quipped.

“You’ll feel better, I promise.” He shook his head, as he tried not to laugh at my anger.

I rolled my eyes and took a step toward him, holding out my hand for the hammer. I took it from his grip, and it immediately hit the floor.

“Jeez, it’s heavier than I expected.”

Abel winked as his tongue ran over his lips. “I don’t get many complaints.”

“Whatever.” I gripped the sledgehammer with both hands but could barely lift it from the floor.

“OK. Don’t hurt yourself, Kettle. Let’s start with something smaller.” He leaned the large hammer against the wall and handed me a smaller version.

“This is better.” I smiled as Abel picked up the larger sledgehammer and held it in two hands.

“We’re gonna take down this little wall here to open it up into what will be the formal dining room. With each swing you say something that scares you or has hurt you. Got it? I’ll go first.”

I nodded, my teeth digging into my lower lip as Abel stepped toward the wall. “It wasn’t fair that my entire life was taken from me.” He swung hard, the sledgehammer digging into the drywall and causing it to crumble around the head of the hammer. He stepped back, panting. “Your turn.”

I stepped forward, the hammer in my hands as I looked at the huge hole Abel had left. “I hate…that…” I sighed and held the hammer at my side. I swung it up to my shoulder and adjusted my footing. “I hate that you won’t just go away.” I swung, the hammer stopping abruptly as it lodged into the wall next to Abel’s crater. I tugged on it twice before it came loose and swung down to my side.

“Fair enough.” He stepped forward, and I pressed myself against the side wall. He rolled his head from shoulder to shoulder, stretching his neck. “This one is for my grandpa thinking I was too spoiled and needed to learn to live like him.” He swung and hit just a few inches from his first mark. “Would’ve been nice not to have to deal drugs to survive just because he hated my dad.” He pulled up his damp, white shirt and wiped it over his brow. I tried not to stare at his abs as he walked by me and grabbed a gallon of water from the mantel and guzzled a large swig.

I positioned myself in front of the wall. “This is for my mom. It wasn’t my fault she was raped. I still deserved to be loved.” I swung hard, throwing all my anger into my swing. The hammer wedged into Abel’s growing crater. He walked up beside me with the water in his hand. I took it and drank a sip.

“That was better.” He motioned for me to move back, and I stepped back to the side wall as I waited for him to swing. He focused on the wall as his eyebrows pulled together.

“This is for scaring you last night, Kettle.” He swung, and the sound of the hammer hitting the wall echoed in my heartbeat. He observed the hole in the wall as he stepped back. He propped the hammer next to me as he pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on top of an old paint bucket.

“This is for everyone who bullied me in school.” I stepped forward and took a swing, surprised at how much my muscles burned and how the pressure from my chest was beginning to ease. I glanced over my shoulder at Abel, whose body glistened with a fresh layer of sweat, his jeans hanging low on his hips.

“This…” He glanced down at the hammer and back at me as he took his position in front of the wall. “This is for not being able to save them.”

My heart sank as he swung, the hammer breaking through to the next room. I hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding back.

Our eyes locked, and I nodded as a tear stung my eye. “This is also for not being able to save them.” I broke eye contact and took my shot, but my arms were growing weaker, and I barely made a dent. My eyes met Abel’s again, and he looked confused but quickly masked his reaction.