hot metal cooling now there wasn’t any fire to drive it forwards, and she imagined it could have been Sallabrook somehow, sputtering out without her here to brutalize. In a different life.
That changed the moment she saw her brother’s head peek over the windowsill, looking out of the house and towards where she sat in the now-still vehicle.
“Thad,” she breathed, the word hardly stirring the air. A bone-deep tremble set up in her body, starting from the soles of her feet and moving in a rapid wave up her spine. It came out her mouth with a yell, voice unrecognizable, screaming for Bane. He pounded on the glass next to her, and Myrt whirled to face him, pointing to the house with one shaking finger. “Thad.” That time she had some oomph behind her brother’s name, casting it so loud it echoed back onto her from the inside surfaces of the van.
“Unlock it.” Bane gestured to her with a “come along” motion, his hand making quick circles through the air. “Let’s get him. Sallabrook ain’t here.”
She fumbled with the key fob, unlocking and relocking the vehicle a couple of times before she got things under control. Bane was there, hand out, and she laid the keys in his palm. He grunted and shoved them into his pocket, then held his hand out again, waiting until she got the hint and slipped her hand against his, palm to palm. His fingers curled around her hand and gave her a squeeze. Then he pulled her from the van and up the stairs.
It was chilling to see everything so much the same. The muck boots hung on their nails beside the outside door, high enough dogs and varmints couldn’t reach to scavenge the leather, but outside so the stink of the pig pen never entered the house. The sturdy four-legged chair waited near the door, close enough to the porch railing Sallabrook could spit into the dirt with ease. I’ve been gone weeks. I’d expect more of a difference. Maybe she’d misunderstood his visit to Vanna’s, because if he were doing well without her here, why would he go so far to try and drag her back?
Bane lifted his fist to pound against the door, but Myrt ducked under his arm, turned the knob, and walked straight in.
“My lands.” She stopped inside the door, trying to catalog the wreckage. Pictures with the covering glass broken hung askew from their nails, as if a mighty wind had tried to sweep them away. Dirty plates and cups were on every flat surface, some with food or drink still inside. The floor held varying levels of dirt and trash, with clothing scattered here or there. “Oh my lands.”
“Not much of a clean freak when he’s the one doin’ the cleanin’, huh?” Bane moved closer to her, his hand resting protectively against the middle of her back. “Where’s Thad? You saw him, right?”
Myrt jarred herself loose from the hypnotizing filth and disarray, then took in a deep breath and immediately regretted it, the stench as bad as the mess. “Thad, where are you?”
“Myrtie?” She spun towards the kitchen in time to see Luke crawl out from underneath the table.
“Myrtle?” Thad rounded the corner near the stove, eyes round in his head.
Luke was unsteady when he climbed to his feet, but Thad was right there to put his shoulder under his brother’s hand, ensuring they both remained upright.
“Oh, boys.” She took no more than a step towards them before they were on her, arms around her waist and neck, pulling her into a three-way hug that seemed to go on and on. Luke was crying, and she leaned her head against his, ignoring how dirty both boys were. “Hush now, everything’s gonna be all right now. We’ve got you. Gonna get you out of here, once and for all. Put this behind us. Gonna be okay. We’re all gonna be okay.”
Their words ran together, a phrase from one, a sentence from the other, and she slowly built a picture of their time on Sallabrook’s farm. Their daddy had done as she’d feared, giving Luke up to take her place. Thad had proven stronger than anyone could have expected an eleven-year-old to be, refusing to allow his brother to go alone. Sallabrook had gone into a rage the instant they walked through the door, raving about Myrt doing him wrong by leaving. It was hard to hear the man’s words through her brothers, to see the hatred he’d held