The Tree of Knowledge

Homecoming

We pull up in front of the house around sunset.

I wish I could say I wasn't scared. I wanted to walk through that door like a bad ass. Like he couldn't hurt me anymore. But I'm so scared. I just don't want him to hurt me anymore.

Jace promised he wouldn't let anyone hurt me ever again.

He kissed away my bruises and my scars and he promised me there wouldn't be any more.

And then he turned me in.

The man kills the engine.

Maybe if Jace can't keep his promise, I can keep it for him.

The man opens the passenger door and starts to untie the bonds on my ankles.

I can be brave.

He helps me out of the car and unlocks the handcuffs.

I can be strong.

He leads me up the sidewalk. The front door opens. Ryan is standing in the doorway.

No one can hurt me ever again. I won't let them.

****

Ryan pays the man and shuts the door. It looked like quite a lot of cash.

"How much did I set you back?" I ask him casually.

"I sold my Mercedes." He says. "The one you scratched."

I can see it, his rage. Bubbling below the surface. Burning in his eyes.

And it doesn't scare me anymore.

I'll be dead by tomorrow. I'm practically dead already.

And he can never hurt me ever again.

"You stole from me." He says slowly. "You took my car, just to smash it. You took my gun. You threatened my wife. You embarrassed me. And you spread you legs for that nigger boy like a little whore."

I reach my hand up and backhand him across the face as hard as I can manage. My ring leaves a deep, red scratch across his face. Blood runs down from it in streaks. He puts his hand to his face, then brings it away again, staring dumbfounded at the blood like he can't quite figure out how it got there.

"Don't ever call him that again." I tell him.

Now he manages to recover from his shock. He lunges at me.

"YOU BITCH! YOU FUCKING CUNT!"

I jump away from his reaching hands, moving behind the coffee table. He flips the table over and out of his path, the wooden legs snapping and the glass shattering on the floor. He grabs me by the hair and throws me to the ground, the broken glass pressing into my face. He moves to kick me, but I grab his other ankle and pull as hard as I can, sending him sprawling on to the glass-covered carpet next to me. I grab a large shard. It cuts deep into my palm as I grip it and I stab it into the meat of his calf. He screams in pain.

Ryan is a foot taller and at least a hundred pounds heavier than me, but he's not used to hitting someone who's hitting back.

As I try to scramble to my feet, he sits up and back hands me across the face. I fly backwards and land painfully on the hearth of the brick fireplace, my head smacking against the stone and my hand and my long hair landing in the flames. I withdraw my singed hand with a yelp as the rotted, sweet smell of burning hair fills my nostrils.