That night had been the beginning of my nightmares. I had been prepared to tell my mom and had threatened to do just that, but Rusty was a manipulative bastard. He could make threats just as good as I could. He had assured me that no one would believe me. Who was going to believe a ten year old boy over an adult like him? Then he had threatened me with the one thing that was sure to keep my mouth shut.
Shane.
If I told, then Shane would be next. There was no way I wanted my baby brother, the boy that was my best friend, to experience what I had just gone through. So I kept the abuse to myself. And it continued for nearly a year.
When I turned eleven, I shot up in height by nearly a foot, and puberty hit fast. I didn’t look like a little kid anymore. I was turning into a man, and Rusty hadn’t liked that, so I was forgotten. I had been scared that the pervert was going to start abusing Shane, so I kept my eyes open for signs that it was going on. There were none and I started to relax…
From down the hall I heard the toilet flush, and I stood, putting the length of the living room between me and Emmie in case I hurt her by accident. There was no way Rusty was walking away from this. He had messed with the wrong kid this time!
“Drake?” Emmie whispered my name, and I gave her a grim smile.
“It’s going to be okay, Em.” I picked up the phone that was beside the rocker my mom loved to sit in. I punched in a number I knew by heart and waited for someone to pick up on the other end.
“Yeah?” It was Mr. Thornton. The guy sounded drunk and he probably was.
“Mr. Thornton, is Jesse home?” I knew he was. He needed to be at work for the evening shift at the plant soon.
“Jesse!” The old man bellowed, and I heard Jesse stomping through the trailer.
He muttered something I couldn’t hear to his dad and then put the phone to his ear. “Dude, I’m busy,” Jesse said without even asking who it was. “What do you want?”
I glanced over at Emmie. “I need you to come over. Now.”
“Dray, I have to be at work in like twenty minutes.”
“Emmie needs you.”
That stopped him. Of the four of us Jesse was probably the most protective of Emmie. The guy was like a mother bear with her cub. “Is she okay?” he demanded.
“That’s questionable.” Physically, she was fine. If that douche bag had done nothing more than touch her leg, then she might not have any mental trauma from it. But what I was worried about was her being in the way when I lost control. “Just come over. Run,” I told him when I heard the bathroom door open. The phone went dead, and I placed it back in its cradle.
“How about another juice box, Emmie?” Rusty asked as he came down the narrow hallway. “Or a popsicle? That’s just what you need on a hot summer day…” He noticed me standing by my mom’s chair. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he muttered.
“I bet.” I gave him a once over. He didn’t look like a pedophile. He looked like what my mom still thought he was: a decent human being. I guess he was good looking. Rusty had just a hint of a beer gut. His hair was short and free of gray. He was average in height and his southern accent was something that my mom said she liked about him. To me, he was the monster from my nightmares.
The front door opened and Jesse came in looking wild. His gaze went straight to Emmie. “Em? Are you okay?” He rushed over and lifted her into his arms.
“Jesse!” She clung to his neck and buried her face in his chest. “Drake is scaring me.”
“What the fuck, man?” Jesse exploded. “She doesn’t look any worse than normal…” then he saw my face.
My gaze was still on Rusty, and I knew that my hatred—the pure venomous rage—was burning in my eyes. I was still shaking and it was getting worse by the second. Jesse glanced from me to a very nervous looking Rusty. “Take Emmie outside, Jesse,” I told him, not once taking my eyes off my stepfather.
“Dray…”
“Now!” I shouted, and Emmie whimpered in his arms. I hated that I was scaring her, but there was nothing I could do about it right now. Later, I promised myself. Later, I would make it up to her.
Jesse murmured something soothingly to Emmie as he turned and left the trailer. With the loud bang from the slamming door, I snapped. There was no way I could hold onto my control now…
I destroyed the living room. The floor lamp that sat beside the old rocker was sticking out of the broken window. The couch I had loved so much was flipped over and would probably never be used again. I thought I heard the dial tone of the phone and figured it was off the hook since the table beside what had once been my mom’s favorite chair was in pieces. The place was completely trashed by the time the cops showed up and pulled me off of the unconscious, bleeding man beneath me. It took two of them to put the handcuffs on me while they fought to push my face down into the carpet. One of the cops said something about an ambulance, and I screamed at him to let the fucker die. That only made the cop holding me down dig his knee deeper into my spine.