people, down the hall, and out the front door. Thankfully, my truck hasn’t been blocked in and I’m glad we didn’t take the motorcycle because there’s no way Thea could ride on it now.
I manage to get the door open without dropping her and then set her inside. She buckles her seatbelt and looks at me sadly and a single tear slides down her cheek. I reach up and wipe it away as she gives me a sad smile.
“I couldn’t let him hit Cade again,” she whispers.
I swallow thickly. When I walked in on the scene, I suspected that their dad had been using Cade for a human punching bag. “How long has this been happening?”
“I didn’t know until I was in eighth grade,” she whispers softly, like she’s never spoken the words aloud and it hurts to do so. “I came home early from a friend’s house and they didn’t know I was home. I heard shouting and then I saw him hit Cade. It stuck with me, and then I started remembering all the times I’d seen bruises on Cade and it was easy to figure out it had been happening for a long time.”
I shake my head, horrified. I can’t imagine growing up in a household with a father like that. My dad was the kind who worked all day but couldn’t wait to get home and hang out with us. I even remember him playing dolls with Alexis. It was important to him to do things we liked.
I close her door and head for the driver’s side. I start the truck and get out of there as fast as I can. I can’t take being in the shadow of that house a second longer and I’m sure Thea feels that way more than I do.
After a few minutes of silence, Thea begins to speak again. “I always knew as a little girl that my dad had a quick temper. I remember once when I was about five, I dropped a glass of orange juice in the kitchen and he just went off, like a switch had been flipped. My mom said to him, ‘It’s just a little juice.’” She shakes her head, sadness clinging to her. “That pissed him off more. She was already down on her hands and knees, cleaning up the mess while I cried, and he grabbed her by the hair and shoved her head down and said if it was just a little juice then she could lick it clean.” I glance at her, horrified, and she wipes her tears away. “He’s never hit me before today, and we all know he was aiming for Cade, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt me too. Words and actions are just as powerful as fists, if not more so. This will heal—” she points to her face “—but this—” now she points to her heart “—will always bear those scars.”
“Thea,” I say softly. I’m at a loss for words and I don’t know what to say to make it better. I don’t think there’s anything I can say.
So, instead, I hold her hand and give it a small squeeze, silently reminding her that I’m here.
We arrive at the emergency room a few minutes later, and as per usual, it’s a major clusterfuck. The place is full of people in all different states—sick, bleeding, crying. You name it, someone’s doing it. There’s even a guy peeing in one of those potted plants.
Thea gives the woman at the front desk her name and insurance information and then is handed a stack of papers to fill out. Thea sighs heavily and we maneuver our way around, looking for a place to sit. We finally find two seats together near the back beside a woman with a crying infant.
Thea goes to work on filling out the information but I notice a slight shake to her hand and she keeps quietly crying. After another minute of this, I take the clipboard from her and fill it out myself. I know practically everything so it’s not a big deal, but she looks up at me with these big shining eyes like I’ve just done the greatest thing ever. It’s such a simple thing, but those things mean the most to someone.
I finish filling out the paperwork and return it to the front desk. I’m starting back to our seats when Cade, Rae, Jace, and Nova come in. I wasn’t expecting all of them, and I hope Thea won’t feel