Rebecca's Bad Day

Turned Tables

From the trunk Anthony recovers, in the following order:

Two pairs of leather and felt cuffs.

One rope.

One ball gag made of silicone and leather.

Four zipties.

Hunter is the one who ties Daphne and puts her on the back seat. Her hands and legs ties together with the cuffs. No gag. The rope was used to bind her legs to her feet, bondage style. Hunter made sure to do that inside the car.

I don't understand why they have these things in their car but right now I'm Becky, and Becky doesn't ask.

We drive.

In silence. Hunter has the taser, I'm holding the unloaded gun on my lap. Feeling the weight over my black jeans.

Daphne shot me. She really means the whole with her or dead and I don't like that. I should be allowed to make the choice of when I want to die. And how.

And getting killed by my biological mother near a park in Santa Clarita is not how I pictured it.

It's a fifteen minute drive to Aunt Cora's house, I help Hunter drag Daphne inside the house. Anthony forces the lock and we enter the ranch house.

Cora is not home, she's probably in New York like the rest of our aunts.

-Call dad.- Hunter asks Anthony and Tone obliges, leaving to the kitchen to do so.

-Don't tell him we have her!- I beg.

Tone freezes on his spot.

Hunter offers me raised brows and a scoff -Why?-

-Because I want to ask her questions and he would stop me... He made me forget.-

Tone places one shaky hand on my right shoulder, the adrenaline from the park coming down. -Trust me Beccs, they had to make you go through that.-

-What was so wrong about me they had to brainwash me?-

Hunter looks past me to Tone and Tone presses my shoulder. I turn to face him, his face blank.

-Dad was worried you were a little too aggressive... Something about you pushing a woman to the subway when he ran to New York with you.-

-He ran to New York?-

The house smells of dust and time, Hunter bites his lower lip and takes the joint from his pocket and rolls it around his fingers. His eyes on the floor.

Tone always has a paternal thing to him. He is the one that used to scold me for being too spoiled or for being dirty. So when he places both of his hands on my shoulders and sighs before talking, I expect either a wholeheartedly confession or a stern lecture.

-You where seven. It was right after we all came back from Cancun. He did it to get back at mom for her leaving him those six months.- Tone explains, his eyes watery.

-You let them hurt me.-

-NO- Both of them scream.

-We never left them hurt you, they had to stop taking us on the same days to avoid Hunter or I going into Acosta's office to kick him for making you cry!-

-Yeah and they did it on us too.- Hunter reminds me.

-That's why you two go to therapy to the Rubens Center and not the Cove?... Why haven't we spoken about it before?-

-Because they did it to us too.- Hunter says with an intonation that resembles a mantra. -They did it to us too.- Like it's the first time this fact sinks in on his consciousness. He has learned a way to enlighten now that he knows we all went through the same.