Be My Anchor

Chapter Fifteen

Gabe's head jolted a little so I knew he heard my question, but he didn't look at me.

Does your father hit you?

"No," he said definitively.

I didn't say anything and, after a long moment, he sighed.

"But he doesn't stop her."

It took me a moment to realize what he was saying. Her, he had said.

His mother hits him and his father doesn't care.

I squeezed his hand, encouraging him to keep going. He squeezed back. "Only when she's really drunk," he continued, still not looking directly at me. "It's not that bad. It usually doesn't even bruise."

I felt like my heart had shattered. No one should be afraid of what their own parents would do to them. Abuse was a serious problem and still, he was trying to downplay it. I blinked a couple of times, trying not to get too emotional for his sake.

"Why haven't you told anyone?" I said, failing to hide the emotion in my voice. "You shouldn't be living with her."

Gabe stared at our joined hands and said, "I'm seventeen. I'll be out of the house in a year. It won't matter then."

"But it matters now," I pleaded. I ran through all of the possible solutions in my head. "I can't just let you live in that household."

Gabe peered at me sidelong. The look in his eyes was unnerving. His voice dropped lower and he became dead serious. "Don't mess with it, Jo. Leave it be."

His intimidation had little to no effect on me. He would learn that I was stubborn as a mule, especially when it came to his safety and well-being.

I furrowed my brow and said, "You can't possibly expect me to sit here and do nothing about it."

"Don't, Marjo." His voice was becoming desperate now. "Don't tell anyone. I don't want anything to happen to her. Promise me." I could see his anger being replaced by distress, little by little.

Was this how I looked to him when we were in the ocean? He looked broken. I didn't like it.

I couldn't understand why he was trying to protect her. I just shook my head. "You need help. She needs help too."

"Promise me," he repeated, ignoring my last words.

I hesitated. How do you keep a secret when doing so is a threat to their safety?

You can't.

"I can't do that. I can't leave you in that situation." I looked into his eyes desperately, still grasping his hand.

I hated the idea of him living in a house where his mother hit him. I thought back to all the times I had met his mother. Gabe said it was only when she was drunk, but as far as I saw, she always had a drink in her hand.

How often is she drunk, Gabe?

He took a deep breath while my words lingered in the air. "Fine," he conceded, "but just...let me handle it, okay? I don't want you to do anything. I don't want you to be involved."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You promise you'll do something about it?"

"Yes."

"Okay," I sighed. "Then, I won't tell anyone."

Gabe dropped his shoulders in relief. "Thank you," he whispered. Even though I was the one who relinquished, he still looked defeated. His eyes drooped and his head hung.