Burn me aliveThe liquid in the glass goes around and around. It's making my eyelids heavy but the conversation terrifies me to the point of permanent wakefulness. I raise my eyes up to watch him as he stares out the window, holding his own empty glass.
Set me on fire
And watch me die
Burn me alive
Watch me resurrect
Right before your eyes
The scorched earth policy was my plan. Ruin you so that he wouldn't win.
I nod. I'm fascinated when he lays his thoughts down, naked and uncensored, covering themselves fruitlessly in the glare of so much sudden attention.
How am I doing? He turns with a smile and I return to staring into my glass. Bridget. It's a warning to pay close attention. I ignore him and continue drowning in the fumes. Straight Canadian whiskey and I could light my breath on fire from a hundred yards away. How close are you going to get?
I look up and smile. The truth is the only escape I will have from the Devil and yet I made a promise. We buried the truth in the cornfield at the end of the fourth row on the inside, away from the highway. In the pitch dark. In the dirt, digging with our hands and we chose to leave it there instead of redeeming Lochlan and crucifying Caleb.
Because we had to. If we had a choice we would have chosen it, as it were. As Lochlan told me while I stood there and cried because I wasn't old enough to understand why this was so frightening, only that it was and we had to make it go away. Everything is simplified, dumbed down and covered with dirt, turned over and packed down hard and left forever to rot in the ground.
But secrets don't rot. They just fester and linger and wait.
You're going to ruin us all, Bridget and through us the children too. We're tied together now and if one of us sinks, we all drown.
I wish Caleb would shut up now, I'm worn out. I finish the drink and stand up.
ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME? He crosses to me and wrenches my wrist. I drop the glass on the floor and nod up at him. He softens marginally and I can respond without flinching so hard. He likes it when I react to him with fear. I maintain that I can't help it but he certainly can.
Leave the sleeping dogs. Leave your failed attempt at young love to the past. Leave your giant addict husband to his altered reality and come to me, Princess.
You are...
What? What am I?
So fucking completely delusional-
My quiet effort at speaking back to him is rewarded handsomely, just as I hoped it might be. I'm not afraid of Caleb. He's too smooth to be as frightening as Cole was, too in control to ever be out of it, too hopeful still to go too far and I know precisely how far he will go and I learned a long time ago that I can take whatever he gives me.
By midnight Caleb goes to refill our drinks and the knock on the door is less of a knock and more of a battering ram. I walk down the hall without my shoes and Lochlan is in the kitchen, in Caleb's face.
Lochlan drops his argument when he sees me. I am twelve, standing in the doorway in a dress that's threadbare, slightly too big so the ties are wrapped twice around my waist and knotted in the back, and my too-long bangs are in my eyes. I am covered with scratches and razor burn and the daze in my eyes leaves them unfocused. My eyes and lips are swollen and I have seen too much for such a young age.
He crosses to me and takes my hands. Come on. I need to get you out of here.
The secrets don't go anywhere, Locket. You know that, right? They wait for us.
He looks at Caleb and then back at me. Don't you listen to him, Peanut. He can't hurt you anymore.
Caleb's voice is sharp and sure, cutting through the whiskey like a bright light.
That's not true and we all know it.