Page 37 of Come Back To Me

The locker room was long empty, but I stayed to get a work out in and catch up on some admin for Coach. We only had a few weeks left before our hockey season officially started, and I always took it upon myself to make sure we were ready. Rick Ross played through my earphones, and I pushed a little harder until my muscles burned from exertion. I was half-way through my fourth set, alternating between my chest and shoulders, when my music cut off, and my phone rang. I huffed out a breath, dropped the dumbbell weights and looked at the screen.

My brows dipped low. Daniel’s name flashed across the screen.

Strange. It was almost ten p.m. on a Friday night. He shouldn’t have been awake. My parents may have been careless with regard to his daily routine, but I sure as hell wasn’t.

I answered, feeling something akin to worry unfurl in my stomach.

“Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

A moment later, his voice came through the speaker. “V-Vaughan.” He was crying, and sounded scared shitless. “C-can you p-please come get me?”

I grabbed my towel, and my gym bag, and started towards the exit of the rink. “What’s wrong?” He started crying, and my pace quickened. “What happened?”

“It’s M-Mom.”

My fist clenched around my phone, and I bit out, “What did she do?”

“She h-hit me, and it really hurts.”

What the fuck?

“I’m on my way.” I started running, feeling fear and anger collide with the tension that had overtaken every fiber of my body. “Can you get somewhere safe?”

“Mom and Dad left, but I’m hiding in my room.”

“You sit tight, I will be there in ten minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

I clicked end before I said something that would upset Daniel even more, like how I wanted to wrap my hands around my mother’s wiry neck and cut off her oxygen until she was no longer breathing. I knew I should have taken Daniel away from them, but I had no other option until I could get some help. And now I had a reason to take him away from that hellhole.

I keyed the ignition, and sped out of the lot, weaving through the late evening traffic as I raced towards the trailer park. Panic clawed its way up my throat, and my mind went wild with every possible scenario of what happened to Daniel. What my Mother did. My wheels skidded across the dirt, and the first thing I noticed was that the trailer was dark. My panic intensified, but was quickly overridden by a need to get to my kid brother, and make sure he was okay. I ripped the trailer door from the hinges, and called out for Daniel.

“In here,” came his voice. I walked down the short hallway, and tried to open his door slowly, so I didn’t startle him. The only lighting came from his phone, which was how I spotted him in the corner.

“I’m here, buddy.” I crossed the tiny room, stumbling over the bed. When I crouched down to pick Daniel up, he cried out.

“My arm,” he sniffed. He cradled his right arm to his chest. “It hurts real bad.”

I couldn’t see much, but when Daniel lifted his phone, I saw the bruise on his face. The way his eye was already swelling shut. I needed to tamp down my anger, but fuck, seeing him like that infuriated me to no end. He was a defenseless kid.

“Wrap your left arm around my neck, okay? I need to get you to the hospital.”

I lifted him up, careful not to jostle him, and as soon as I stepped outside, my Father’s beat-up old truck pulled up outside. Daniel cowered, and my grip on his body tightened.

“Where do you think you’re going?” came my Mother’s voice. She stepped out of the truck, and tripped over her damn feet. She was drunk. Again. And as usual, my Father remained quiet, although I could see he was just as tanked. I couldn’t even feel guilty for wishing he’d hit a tree or something on their way home.

“I’m taking Daniel to the hospital,” I replied through a clenched jaw. My body vibrated with the effort it took to keep myself calm enough to get Daniel in the car. “And then I’m having you arrested for child abuse.” I spat the words out.

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” slurred my Mother. “He fell, and bumped his head.”

I walked around her, and opened the passenger door to my car. Once I’d made sure Daniel was buckled up, I shut the door, and approached my Mother.

“You have no right to take him.” She lifted her chin, but still wobbled where she stood. Her breath wreaked of cheap booze, but it was the overall sight of her that made me sick to my stomach.

“I should have taken him a long time ago.” I got in her face. “You will never hurt him again.”

I turned, ready to leave and be done with these sorry excuses for parents, but my Mother grabbed my arm.