to know his moods, know how far she could push
before he would push back, and this was it. “No, he never laid his hands on me.”
He nodded. “But he locked you… in a cage?”
“Yes.”
“How long did this go on for?”
“The cage?” Her face twisted with repulsion as she uttered the
word. “I don’t know, years… Since I was a child. I don’t remember exactly when… for
as long as I can remember.” Her voice was detached, robotic.
He could feel her retreat somewhere deep within herself. “What
about your mother?”
“She wasn’t around.”
“Tell me about it.”
She let out a long sigh. “My father was a drunk, my mother too I
suspect, but she left when I was still a baby. We lived in a dump. Peter…” Her voice
wavered at his name. She glanced back at Kayne uncertainly, as if the enunciation of
his name alone would suddenly remind him of why she was there, that he wouldjump on her at the realization and begin torturing her for further
information.
When he didn’t react, she continued. “Peter said that Dad wasn’t so
bad when my mother was around. He was still a drunk then… but I don’t think he put
me in the cage when she was there. I mean, she wouldn’t have let him put her baby in
the cage…” she said uncertainly, as if trying to convince herself. She looked up at
him for approval, for reassurance in her shaky faith.
He didn’t nod. Instead, he slid the cigarette pack over to her end
of the table. Laura gladly took one. She hadn’t had any since she got to the house.
She hadn’t even thought about it, but in this moment she wanted nothing more in the
world. He held up the lighter but didn’t hand it to her, forcing her to lean in
close to reach the flame, closing her hand right above his to catch it, feeling his
warmth.
“Go on,” he said finally, after giving her the time to enjoy a few
puffs.
“Not much to say. Dad would get drunk every day almost, but if you
caught him sober, he was actually sweet. He used to buy me this chocolate cake I
liked that they only sold in a shop at the other side of town. We didn’t have a car,
so he’d walk all the way there just to get it for me.” She smiled tenderly at the
memory, then quickly shook it off. “But most of the time, he was just upset with me.
The worst time was when I got suspended.” She smiled grimly. “I got in a fight with
this girl at school who kept picking on me. I think it was the longest time I spent
in the cage. He had to miss work and everything to stay home with me.” She let out a
bitter laugh. “It was just a stupid dog crate, you know? One of those big plastic
ones for large-size breeds…” Her voice broke, the wound still fresh, her eyes
gleaming with raw hurt.
“He had a lock on it, and he always kept the key on him. Peter
would always find a way though. I just had to wait. I’d count up as high as I could,
and then Peter would come and sneak me out when Dad passed out. It was the only time
he’d get in trouble, because of me, for me. Dad always beat him afterward.
You know, it’s funny, we never once thought of sneaking me back in beforehe’d wake up… We were just kids I guess…” She shrugged her
shoulders.
He watched her, fascinated, studying her every move. She was
reliving every moment as she told it, tensing up at some memories, her eyes
softening at others. She had no poker face.
“When I was ten, I don’t remember why, but my father got really,
like really mad at me. I think he saw me holding hands with the neighbor’s kid or
something like that? Anyway, he reached for his belt. He had never hit me before… I
was terrified . Peter freaked out, he jumped in. Got the beating of his life.
He left that same day. For three whole days he didn’t come home. Longest days of my
life. He was sixteen then. I just couldn’t believe he’d leave me like that, you
know? But he came back for me. In the
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