Page 129 of Speechless
I raised my voice, and it felt good. Who cared if they heard me now? “No. You’re not my parent and I’m not doing anything wrong. Stop acting like I am.”
Her hand closed around my arm and yanked me off the stool, through the kitchen toward her side of the house. I tried to pull away from her, but she was strong.Ow. I was going to have bruises. “Let me go, Val. What are you doing?”
“I’m taking care of thefucking problem.” She dragged me into her bedroom. I’d never been in here. It smelled like her. Apple juice, that to me smelled like it had been expired for a while.
We were away from the guests, and I didn’t even care now. I screamed at her. “LET ME GO.”
“Get in there.” She threw me inside her closet. My palms burned from the rug. “Make sure she doesn’t leave the closet.”
I jumped up and ran. Matt blocked the way. “I’m going back to my room.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Why do you always agree with what she says? You know she’s batshit crazy.”
Val shoved me again, pushing me backward. “Hold her hands.”
Matt grabbed my wrists, and I fought him. Fought them both. Fought hard. They were too strong and panic started to take over. Tears of fear and frustration screwed with my vision.
The screech of duct tape made me fight more. I heard a grunt when my foot met flesh, but nothing more. The tape wound around my wrists multiple times.
I stopped fighting.
One piece of tape over my mouth.
Two. Three.
More tape on my hands—my fingers—so I couldn’t take it off my mouth.
“There,” she said. Her face was victorious. “Better. Cecil isn’t here and no one else wants to hear your voice. So shut thefuck upand I’ll let you out when everyone’s gone.” She leaned closer. “And if you tell him any of this?He’s out of the pack. Do you want that? You want to be the reason your father gets kicked out and lives on the street? Because it will be your fault, andonlyyour fault. Got that?”
All I could do was lie there.
She flipped off the light and shut the door.
I heard it lock.
There was so much tape I couldn’t even hear myself cry.
This wasn’t real. I wasn’t with Val. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t happening again. There wasn’t tape on my mouth or hands.
I banged on the door again and again and again. No sounds on the other side of the door but dead air. What if they left and never came back? What if I was going to be stuck in here? What if Dad never returned and Val and Matt decided this was where I lived now? What I never got to speak again.
The flood of adhesive and tape on my taste buds had me heaving. Bile rushed up, and I couldn’t stop myself, throwing up on the carpet. I scrambled away from it, retreating to the place where I’d hidden as best I could.
If they found out I’d thrown up, it would be so much worse. Maybe I could hide from them. Maybe they’d think I passed out.
I crawled past something soft that smelled good. Cinnamon and sugar. I loved that scent. That scent was perfect. It made me feel better. But why did it make mesad? Why wasn’t it here with me?
Why did it leave?
I gagged again, tears running down my cheeks. My mouth tasted bad, but I couldn’t make any more sound. Throwing up was bad enough. They had to let me out sometime, right?
Maybe Dad would decide he didn’t go and come back.
Maybe someone would find me.
Help me.
