There was Jack and his sister and their situation and all the intense emotions he made her feel. There was the fear of Bob that never completely left her. There was the pain in her chest each time she thought of her mom.
Her dreams, her life, everything had been put on pause this past year. Every day had been solely set on surviving, more mentally than physically. Until the end. She shivered. He’d almost succeeded; he’d almost broken her. Lola blinked her eyes and made herself think of other stuff; of her future.
It was almost unimaginable to think of leaving Blair. They’d only just reconnected and a year didn’t seem like enough time to get to know each other. It wasn’t. She was all she had of her father and his side of the family. Blair was the only living relative Lola had other than her mother.
Lola thought of starting at the community college in Lansing to get her generals done and then continuing on from there. Her aunt had told her she could live with her while she went to college. Nothing Lola had to decide today.
Today was the day she told Jack how she felt about him.
15
Lola’s footsteps slowed the closer she got to the house. What if Jack wasn’t there? What if his father was? Lola knew Jack’s father wouldn’t do anything to her, not physically anyway, but just knowing what he’d done to his son was enough to make her loathe and fear him at the same time. He was a man like Bob Holden and ‘man’ was too good a word for him.
The air was stifling and Lola wiped her moist brow. The neglected white farmhouse loomed before her; the yard with all its many trees reminded her of the spot they met at. It was still and silent, the sounds of nature all Lola heard.
She took a deep breath, rounded up her nerve, and knocked on the door. Lola heard footsteps. The door opened and there stood Isabelle in a purple and white striped shirt and white capris.
“Hi.” Lola smiled. “How are you, Isabelle?”
Isabelle held the door so Lola couldn’t see past her, looking so much like Jack with her churlish expression Lola sucked in a sharp breath. Now she could see the resemblance.
“Jack’s not here.” Something in her face gave Lola pause. Her eyes darted back and forth as she gnawed on her lower lip. She was scared.
“What’s going on, Isabelle?” Lola asked in a low voice.
“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “You should leave.” Isabelle tried to shut the door and Lola put a hand out, stopping her.
“Jack’s here, isn’t he? Is he hurt?” Isabelle’s face crumpled, tears streaming down her face. “Isabelle! Where is he? What happened?”
“Go away!” she wailed, pushing harder.
Fear and adrenaline gave Lola strength and she shoved the door open so wide it banged against a chair. “I’m not leaving until I see Jack.”
“He’ll be back any minute. You can’t be here, Lola! Please.” Isabelle clutched at her arm as Lola stormed into the house. Her resistance turned into clinging; Lola holding her up.
“Jack wouldn’t want you here. He wouldn’t want you to see him,” she whispered, eyes luminous with sorrowful tears.
Lola’s breathing picked up, heart racing. Her eyes finally took in the empty vodka bottles on the counter, the shattered dishes on the kitchen floor, the smear of blood on the doorframe.
Her throat tightened. Oh, God, please let him be okay.
“You have to go.” Jack’s sister clung to Lola, sobbing uncontrollably. “You have to go.”
“I’m not leaving,” she hissed, staring Isabelle down, “so I suggest you tell me where he is. Now. Before your dad gets back.”
Isabelle nodded, eyes wide, and pointed a shaking finger to the living room. “Upstairs. Second room. Please. Help him.”
I will, Lola silently vowed, sprinting for the stairs.
She didn’t think about consequences, she didn’t think about what could happen if and when their dad showed up. Lola only thought of Jack. She had to get to him, she had to help him.
The second bedroom was dark and the metallic smell hit her as soon as she opened the door. Lola had never been as afraid in her life as she was walking to that bed.
Moments that altered you; defined you as who you were; that was one of them, seeing Jack like that. It was like Lola’s heart stopped, her brain raced but formed no logical thought, and it was surreal. Lola’s world changed in that instant. She was aware of all she could lose.
Jack wasn’t moving, his chest barely lifting with each shallow breath he took. Even in the dim light Lola could see his face was a myriad of bruises and swelling. She looked around the room, searching for a light switch. When she turned it on she almost wished she hadn’t.