Ghosts

6) Interrogation

He stands in the doorway, staring into my eyes as the smirk on his face deepens. The ringing in my ears slowly fades as he moves closer.

"Well, Kelly, don't we have some catching up to do,".

My body voluntarily shudders when he kneels down next to me, and my heart rate quickens. I notice the same look in his eye that he had during New Year's Eve those years ago. He reaches down and yanks my bound hands up, awkwardly pulling my torso up from the mattress. My shoulders ache as the metal around my wrist's tugs at my skin. I force my lips into a stern line, trying to contemplate Booth's agenda, to read the expression on his face.

He tuts, noticing my confusion,

"Come on now, Kelly... You know exactly what I'm talking about".

I flinch away as he brushes his hand along my jawline, resting it on my cheek.

He leans closer, "Surely you have something to say, Kelly. Or would you prefer Hailey?"

I freeze, failing to hide the momentary tensing in my muscles. I force myself to mask my surprise, my horror, at his use of my real name. When I don't offer a response, he lifts his hand away from my cheek before he brings it sharply back. Stinging radiates across my skin. He stands above me. His eyes bore into mine, unblinking.

His playful expression hardens within a blink, before he growls into my ear,

"Shall I refresh your memory?" He pauses.

"You sold me out Hailey".

His hand meets the skin on my face when I stay quiet.

"Nothing to say, huh? Even after you put me in jail. After you and Garrett put me in jail."

He sneers at me.

I press my lips together into a stern line.

He waits a beat before he balls his fist up and strikes my face,

"You are going to talk to me."

I stay silent. I flinch as his fist collides with my cheekbone.

He growls, his brows furrowed in anger, "Start talking, you little bitch. I need to know how a couple of fucking cops, how you and Garrett, managed to put me in fucking jail."

I still refuse to speak, glaring up at Booth. He kicks me in my side with his boot. I wince at the contact and clench my jaw at the pain. His knuckles hit my face. He yanks my shoulders up, pulling me onto my knees, and slams me against the wall above the mattress.

"Talk damn it," He snarls.

I tense as I'm hit with another punch, followed immediately by a kick to the stomach. He slaps me, hits me, knees me in the chest.

The wall that had disappeared, that had lowered since my childhood, returned in a split second.

He growls into my ear as the barrage continues and I push my memories down refusing to allow myself to feel, refusing to let myself think of my past.

Eventually, he gets tired. His punches get weaker, his kicks less frequent.

He deals a parting blow to my ribs, and mutters into my ear,

"We're not done here. I'll be back".

He snickers, and turns for the door, slamming it shut behind him.

I lean against the wall and squeeze my eyes shut to contain the dizziness; a deep ache radiates from my ribs, from the bruises that would soon be forming all over. My legs collapse underneath me, and I sink down onto the mattress. I gingerly scoot forward and lower my back onto the springs, hissing at the pain in my ribs. I lie there staring at the moonlight coming through the window, forcing myself to think about anything else other than the pain. 

Eventually, my eyes close and I drift into a restless sleep.

I flinch as the plate shatters against the wall. His screams echo into my ears as I cower into my seat. I glance around the table, avoiding my dad's eye contact as he continues his rant, and see the same look in my mother's eyes. In my brothers' eyes. The man at the end of the table rises from his seat and screams at my mother, yanking her up and throwing her to the ground. She whimpers as he deals a kick to her side. I shudder and dart my eyes to the floor but fail to stop the soft whimper that escapes my lips.

He freezes mid punch and spins on his heel, screaming,

"QUIET you little SHIT."

I cringe as he stomps over. He raises his hand above his head and belts me across my cheek. I recoil at the sting, and a soft cry bubbles up my throat.

He roars, "QUIET".

He turns his attack onto me.

I wake with a start, my breathing ragged and my heart pounding in my ears. My eyes shot open into the darkness of the small room. My heart rate slowly lowers as the moonlight brings me back to reality. 

My breathing rate calms, and my eyes drift closed once again.