Page 39 of ’Til You Break

We drive home. Hannah spends the journey fawning over the kitten, laughing every time it does something remotely adorable.

She’s happy.

And all I can think about...

...is how perfect this would be if it were our child instead.

Chapter Thirteen

Hannah

In a hurry to get to his meeting, Vik drops me and our new addition at home before rushing back out. I decide to bathe the kitten and wash away the grime from the garbage cans.

As I do so, I reflect on the day and everything that came with it. Tension. Bittersweet memories of my teenage years. And the main event, where Vik used me as he pleased, without care or concern for anyone else in that house.

Silly as it sounds—and especially considering I enjoyed it too—I’m glad it happened.

It stopped me from slipping into the darker parts of my past. Mostly the brief thoughts about my own dad while Damien and I talked. Luckily, they never got very far while I was busy putting out fires between the men.

Who knows what might’ve happened if Vik hadn’t taken charge upstairs?

It’s much easier to remember the bad than the good. And there was a moment today when the nightmares started creeping back, when everything could’ve gone wrong.

Vik stopped that from happening.

Now that I’m alone again, it’s harder to stop myself from going there. Remembering my dad. He was a bitter man with a short temper and an affinity for cheap, hard liquor. He spent his mornings working, his afternoons drinking, and his nights fighting with my mum.

It was during one of those nights that my life shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. They were arguing again. The thin walls in our house didn’t block much sound, and I could hear every word. Dad punched walls, slammed cupboard doors, and puffed out his chest to make himself feel like a big man.

I’d stopped worrying about Dad turning his anger on me. He already had. More than once. Quick lashes out of nowhere because Mum wouldn’t let him hit her instead.

Somewhere in the middle of it, I decided I’d had enough. I was going to run away. At ten years old, I didn’t have anywhere to go, but I didn’t want to stay there any longer. So, I climbed out my bedroom window and disappeared into the night.

Rain poured from thick, gray clouds. Lightning lit up the sky, holding my attention long after I reached the street corner and stepped out to cross. Everything after that happened so fast. I remember tires screeching, a car horn blaring and blinding headlights racing towards me.

I braced for the impact that never came. The driver swerved to avoid me but lost control on the wet road. A deafening crash against a lamppost brought the car to an abrupt stop.

He died before the ambulance arrived.

Rather than blaming me, everyone blamed the driver. They said he’d been drinking at a nearby pub and sped through the residential streets before running the stop sign. Their reasoning didn’t change how I saw what happened. I’d killed him by being careless. By believing I had the power to change my life for the better at the age of ten.

Some good came from it in the end. He’s the reason I became the person I am today. I vowed to help anyone in need, no matter the cost.

It’s the same promise that’s landed me in the mess I find myself in now. That left me homeless, broke, and asking my stepbrother for handouts.

Tears splash into the kitten’s bath before I realize they’ve fallen. I sniffle, compose myself, and force the memories away.

“Now, what am I going to call you?” I ask, smiling down at the kitten.

After patting him dry with a fluffy towel, I carry him into the kitchen in search of something to eat.

Of course, there isn’t anything suitable for a pet. Why would there be when Vik barely feeds himself half the time? Which means I’ll have to head out again, even though I know it’ll annoy Vik.

I leave the precious baby in my room and call a taxi. It’s a fifteen-minute drive to the nearest store, and the ride is quiet for the most part. I don’t blame the driver for not wanting to chat. It’s late, and he’s out here working when he should probably be home with his family.

“Mind waiting a minute? I’ll be in and out.”

He grumbles. “Sure, but I’m keeping the meter running.”