Page 51 of Forbidden Eyes
“Benjamin, please. Calm down,” she says, reaching for him. He takes her arm and drags her away, both of them leaving the room abruptly.
“Where are you going? This isn’t over!” I shout, worry for Carter now moreconcerning than what the argument was about.
“You are a child, Sofia.Mychild. And nobody touches something that belongs to me. Carter is a dead man. You want to be treated like an adult? Well, actions have consequences. And Carter’s actions with you just cost him his fucking life.”
He slams the door behind them, and then I hear the key turning in the lock.
“No, no, no.” I rush over and grab the handle in a fever to open the door, but there’s no magic opening. It’s locked. The door rattles in the frame but won’t open. “Don’t you do this. Mom! Stop him. Please…”
My pleas go unanswered because there are no footsteps outside.
And my dad isn’t coming back.
I can’t breathe. Suddenly, the walls around me start to encroach, pressing in and suffocating me. I need to escape, but I’m locked in a room. The tears I’ve held back burst free, scalding my cheeks as they leak down them. But I don’t want to cry. It’s anger running through me, not sorrow.
I pull open the wardrobe and look at all the clothes, all the dresses, the designer gowns and shoes that have been showered upon me over the years, and I hate them; I hate them all and what they represent. My arms lash out, and I drag my nails through the fabric, tearing them down. I direct all my frustrations, all my emotions at the inanimate objects in front of me.
My sobs grow more frantic as worry builds inside of me and the pile of torn fabric grows at my feet. My attack serves as an outlet for everything that’s brewing inside of my chest until I can’t take it any longer and collapse into the pile of clothes.
A small part of me wonders if ignorance would be better than this. If I hadn’t got on that bus and visited Uncle Quinn, I’d have never known any different, and I could go back to school without this gnawing feeling in my stomach. But at the same time, I’d have never met Carter, the first man to ever make my heart skip a beat. The first man I’ve ever kissed, the first … My mind trails off towards more passionate memories and the imagined scenes he left me with after he also locked the door on me. Now I might as well have signed his death certificate without even sleeping with him.
Thinking of Carter and the small taste of freedom he gave me reminds me that I can’t stay here. I have to warn him. Help him. He came to save me when he didn’t have to. He could have left me, but he didn’t. There’s no way I can live under the same roof as my father and be complicit in his affairs. I won’t be able to look Mom in the eye and see her as the same protective mom I’ve always known her to be. But my last adventure was my only adventure. What can I do?
My mind races with possibilities—first outrageous and far-fetched, but as my mind works each scenario like an equation, a pattern begins to form. A pattern that has a clear starting point.
I jump from the floor, swiping my cheeks, and search my room. I grab a few of my notebooks and research papers from my school bag and stuff them into the backpack I’ve yet to unpack. I grab a few extra pairs of jeans, leggings, underwear, and check the money I still have. I’ll need money, but unlike last time, I don’t need to hide where I am from my father.
I need to get to Carter.
As the thought goes through my head, it paralyses me with fear. Can I really do this? Should I throw everything away so easily for the first guy I’ve ever liked? Then I think about all the white powder in that warehouse, what Carter told me, and what I know of my father.
It’s my fault he has a target on his back. I need space from my family.
Could I convince Mom that nothing happened? Just like earlier, as I was thinking of her, I hear the lock turning in the door, and she creeps in. I turn to look at her and I’m at war with myself over my reaction. I should be cross that she let this happen to me, but I can’t be. I want to fly into her arms as I did as a small girl to be reassured everything will be okay. But I’m not that girl anymore. This is my chance to show who I really am, and I won’t stand for what my family name has done.
“Baby, are you okay?” She looks around the room at the destruction before her eyes land on me.
I nod, not confident that my voice will hold.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I always said I’d protect you from him, and I have as much as I can, but I can’t fix this.” She opens her arms, and I can’t help but race to her.
I let my tears roll unchecked or hidden as she rubs my back, trying to soothe me.
“Mom, I can’t stay. Not now. Not now that I know. And Carter.”
I feel her nod, but I can’t bring myself to look up at her.
A few days ago, I was running away to get some of the answers I’ve always wanted about my family, and they’ve led me here.
Running again.
“Will you tell me about him?”
“There’s not much to tell, Mom. That’s the truth. But I can’t let Dad go after him because of me.”
“I know you have to go, baby girl. I just wish you didn’t.”
“Will you help me?”