Read Online Bent Not Broken (A Cedar Creek #1) by Julia Goda - Free Book Online
Authors: Julia Goda
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I won’t fall for. I don’t go out with them, I don’t get to know them, I only call when I want sex, and they do the same. Then I meet them at their place and that’s it. Booty calls, that’s all they are. No strings, no expectations.”
“But why do you do that? You deserve so much more than that. Why won’t you let yourself be happy?”
“Because I know there is no happy for me out there. Not after him ,” my breath hitched at saying that last word. I closed my eyes in an attempt to keep the demons at bay. My hands were starting to shake. Macy gripped them tighter. Her support gave me the strength to go on. I opened my eyes and looked into her worried ones.
“ Kyle ,” all I could get out was a whisper. Even in that whisper you could hear the pain and absolute terror. Tears were running down my cheeks, and I was gripping Macy’s hands, holding onto her for dear life while I told her and Larry about the demons of my past.
“He destroyed me. He almost killed me. He…he…I let him k-k-kill my baby,” I collapsed into Macy’s arms and sobbed, sobbed and cried so hard, I couldn’t breathe. Macy was trying to soothe me by rubbing my back, while holding me tight to her body.
“Shhh, Ivey, it’s okay. Let it out. I’m here,” she murmured in my ear. She held me for a long while until the sobs had stopped and I could finally breathe again. I gave her one last squeeze, then loosened my hold on her, and moved my face out of her neck. Larry had poured me another shot of Tequila. I took it, sat back, and started from the beginning.
“My father was not a good man. He hit my mom and made me watch. It was almost like he wanted me to see what I could expect if I disobeyed. I felt so powerless and scared. My mother always pretended like nothing happened. She didn’t talk to me about it. She didn’t protect me from it. When he wasn’t hitting her, he was talking down to her, making her feel stupid and worthless. Made both of us feel like we were nothing.”
I took another shot of Tequila with shaking hands.
“Then he started hitting me. I don’t know what triggered it, what I had done to make him hit me. It hurt. It hurt so much. He would take turns between her and I. I think it was a relief to my mother. Now, she only got half the amount of beatings she had before. A lot of the time, she would use me as her shield, trying to get me in trouble, blaming things on me, so she wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences. I heard them fight almost every night. I would wake up and stare at the ceiling in the dark, trying to shut them out. That’s why I still can’t sleep through the night now. I’m conditioned not to. Always alert. Always waiting for something. It takes me forever to go to sleep.”
I was getting lost in my memories now, my voice sounding far away as I remembered the feeling of absolute helplessness at hearing my father rape my mother.
“After that she checked out. Probably the only way she knew how to deal with it. I was scared my father would do the same to me, that he would come to my room at night to take what he wanted. But he never did. Still, that fear kept me up most nights. When he hit her after that it seemed worse, because she didn’t react to it at all. No crying, no screaming, no nothing. She just took it quietly, which made him even angrier. That anger he would then direct at me.
“As you can imagine my home life made me insecure and shy. I was scared all the time, tired all the time, felt worthless. By the time I started high school I was an introvert. I didn’t talk to anyone, kept to myself, didn’t talk in class, didn’t socialize at all. I was all alone. The only person that knew about what went on at home was my grandma, my mom’s mom. She cursed my mother for being so weak, for not getting me out of there, for not leaving my father. I don’t know how many times she tried to get through to her. She tried everything, but I knew it was no use. My mother was dead
“But why do you do that? You deserve so much more than that. Why won’t you let yourself be happy?”
“Because I know there is no happy for me out there. Not after him ,” my breath hitched at saying that last word. I closed my eyes in an attempt to keep the demons at bay. My hands were starting to shake. Macy gripped them tighter. Her support gave me the strength to go on. I opened my eyes and looked into her worried ones.
“ Kyle ,” all I could get out was a whisper. Even in that whisper you could hear the pain and absolute terror. Tears were running down my cheeks, and I was gripping Macy’s hands, holding onto her for dear life while I told her and Larry about the demons of my past.
“He destroyed me. He almost killed me. He…he…I let him k-k-kill my baby,” I collapsed into Macy’s arms and sobbed, sobbed and cried so hard, I couldn’t breathe. Macy was trying to soothe me by rubbing my back, while holding me tight to her body.
“Shhh, Ivey, it’s okay. Let it out. I’m here,” she murmured in my ear. She held me for a long while until the sobs had stopped and I could finally breathe again. I gave her one last squeeze, then loosened my hold on her, and moved my face out of her neck. Larry had poured me another shot of Tequila. I took it, sat back, and started from the beginning.
“My father was not a good man. He hit my mom and made me watch. It was almost like he wanted me to see what I could expect if I disobeyed. I felt so powerless and scared. My mother always pretended like nothing happened. She didn’t talk to me about it. She didn’t protect me from it. When he wasn’t hitting her, he was talking down to her, making her feel stupid and worthless. Made both of us feel like we were nothing.”
I took another shot of Tequila with shaking hands.
“Then he started hitting me. I don’t know what triggered it, what I had done to make him hit me. It hurt. It hurt so much. He would take turns between her and I. I think it was a relief to my mother. Now, she only got half the amount of beatings she had before. A lot of the time, she would use me as her shield, trying to get me in trouble, blaming things on me, so she wouldn’t have to suffer the consequences. I heard them fight almost every night. I would wake up and stare at the ceiling in the dark, trying to shut them out. That’s why I still can’t sleep through the night now. I’m conditioned not to. Always alert. Always waiting for something. It takes me forever to go to sleep.”
I was getting lost in my memories now, my voice sounding far away as I remembered the feeling of absolute helplessness at hearing my father rape my mother.
“After that she checked out. Probably the only way she knew how to deal with it. I was scared my father would do the same to me, that he would come to my room at night to take what he wanted. But he never did. Still, that fear kept me up most nights. When he hit her after that it seemed worse, because she didn’t react to it at all. No crying, no screaming, no nothing. She just took it quietly, which made him even angrier. That anger he would then direct at me.
“As you can imagine my home life made me insecure and shy. I was scared all the time, tired all the time, felt worthless. By the time I started high school I was an introvert. I didn’t talk to anyone, kept to myself, didn’t talk in class, didn’t socialize at all. I was all alone. The only person that knew about what went on at home was my grandma, my mom’s mom. She cursed my mother for being so weak, for not getting me out of there, for not leaving my father. I don’t know how many times she tried to get through to her. She tried everything, but I knew it was no use. My mother was dead
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