Chapter 3 - The Car Ride in the Dark
The back seat of Grandma’s Buick smelled like peppermint, old leather, and the faint scent of floral perfume she’d worn for as long as I could remember.
Toby fell asleep ten minutes after we left the driveway, his thumb hooked securely in his mouth, his small forehead pressed against my ribs. I kept my arm wrapped tightly around him, my knee throbbing with every bump the car hit on the county road.
Up front, Aunt Sarah was driving, her hands clutched so tightly around the steering wheel that her knuckles were entirely white. Grandma sat in the passenger seat, staring straight out the windshield at the dark, winding pine trees framing the highway.
Nobody spoke for the first three miles.
The silence inside the car was heavy, filled with the terrifying realization of what had almost happened. I kept looking out the rear window, half-expecting Dad’s silver truck to come flying up behind us, its bright high-beams flashing, trying to force us off the road.
"He changed," Aunt Sarah finally broke the silence, her voice tight and trembling. "Mom, he wasn't like this two years ago. When Sarah—when his wife passed away—he was heartbroken, but he was still a dad. Ever since Brenda moved in six months ago, he acts like those boys are an inconvenience."
Grandma didn't look away from the road. "Brenda didn't change him, Sarah. She just gave him permission to be selfish."
The words hit the inside of the car like ice.
"I saw the marks on Leo’s arm when I buckled his seatbelt," Sarah whispered, her eyes flickering up to the rearview mirror to catch my gaze. "He’s got a bruise on his cheek, Mom. A real one. She hit him."
"Did she hit you, Leo?" Grandma asked softly, turning her head slightly toward the back seat.
I swallowed hard, feeling the tight knot in my throat tighten. "She pushed me into the corner of the deck table when I grabbed Toby. Then when I fell, she dragged me across the wood and shoved me into the crate. Dad was standing right there by the grill. He saw her do it. He didn't say anything to her. He just picked up my shoes and threw them into the bushes so I couldn't run away."
Aunt Sarah let out a sharp, ragged sob, wiping her cheek with the back of her wrist while keeping her left hand on the wheel. "God, David... how could he do that to his own son?"
"Because Brenda has money, and David is deeply in debt," Grandma said plainly.
I blinked, looking at the back of Grandma’s silver hair. "Money?"
Grandma turned fully in her seat to look at me, her face pale under the passing streetlights. "Brenda’s family owns the commercial real estate firm that holds the mortgage on your father’s construction office. He owes them over two hundred thousand dollars, Leo. If Brenda leaves him, her father calls in that loan, and your dad loses his entire business."
The truth settled into my stomach like a cold lead weight.
It wasn't just that Dad liked Brenda’s clean car, her expensive clothes, or the fancy dinners she cooked for him while ignoring us. He was selling us out to keep his business afloat. He was letting her treat my baby brother like a prop for her internet photos and locked me in a cage because keeping Brenda happy meant keeping his lifestyle intact.
"We aren't going back to my house," Grandma said, looking at Sarah. "He knows I live four miles away. He’ll come straight to my front door as soon as Brenda convinces him he’s going to lose control."
"Where are we going then?" Sarah asked.
"Your brother-in-law’s cabin out near Miller’s Creek," Grandma answered without hesitation. "There’s no cell service out there, the gate is locked, and David doesn't have the key. We stay there tonight, and first thing tomorrow morning, we meet with Arthur."
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"Arthur?" Sarah asked, her head snapping toward Grandma. "Arthur Vance? The family court lawyer?"
"The very same," Grandma said, holding up my cracked phone, its screen glowing faintly in the dark car. "Because tomorrow morning, we are filing an emergency protective order, and David Sterling is going to learn exactly what happens when you treat your children like garbage."
