Kele Moon - Crossing the line

“I didn’t tell him!” She was screeching it now, kicking with all her might, making him jump back defensively. “Leave me alone!”

“You shut up and stop fighting me, or I’m gonna let Vaughn come in here and do it for me.”

She kicked him again, because she didn’t trust him not to hand her over anyway. “I don’t care ’bout your stupid drugs! I didn’t tell him!”

“Back up, Brett. I’ll get her.”

Tabitha kicked at Brett again, this time getting him between the legs with the heel of her sneaker. He doubled over, groaning in pain just as Vaughn pushed into their small bathroom behind him.

“You kick me like that, and I’ll make sure you pay for it.” Vaughn reached over the side of the toilet, grabbing her arm like a vise and tugging so hard she was afraid he’d pull it right out of the socket. “You’ll feel it for days, you little cunt.”

Tabitha screamed, knowing she should’ve taken Wyatt up on his offer. The foster system was looking pretty good about right now.

Vaughn was going to force her to do something horrible. She just knew it.

After months and months of avoiding Vaughn, now her mother wasn’t home, and there were no superheroes in sight to save her. Usually Brett stopped him before he could do anything, but now he was worried about his drugs and his pocket change, and that made her an easy sacrifice.

She’d done this to herself.

All because of one stupid kiss! Why did she think she could reason with her brother? She really was kryptonite, to herself as much as the rest of the world.

Then the most amazing thing happened; the long grinding sound of her mother’s old truck pulling into the driveway echoed past the cracked window. She opened her mouth to scream, but Brett slammed his hand over her mouth before she could.

“You shut up ’bout this, and I won’t tell her ’bout you and the Conner kid.”

Tabitha’s breathing was heavy. Brett’s hand smelled like cigarettes. She wanted to gag from it, but her eyes remained wide and trained on her brother. She should bite him, but she didn’t. She really didn’t want her mother to find out about Wyatt. That was stress she didn’t need. Brett must have sensed some sort of defeat in her, because he removed his hand, brown eyes meeting brown over the rim of the toilet seat.

“Get him away from me.” Tabitha’s gaze darted to Vaughn, who was still holding her arm. “And keep him away, or I’m telling her, and I don’t care what you say to her ’bout Wyatt.”

“Fine.” Brett’s eyes narrowed. “But if you keep seeing Conner, I’m gonna turn Vaughn loose on you, brat. I ain’t protecting you anymore when all you do to repay me for the effort is talk trash behind my back. Don’t think I won’t do it.”

“I’m not seeing him,” Tabitha reasserted once more. “He was just being nice.”

“Yeah, being nice by shoving his tongue down your throat. Fuck the sheriff’s brat, Tabitha, I dare you,” Vaughn said tauntingly, repeating Wyatt’s words from earlier. “I don’t have a problem with sloppy seconds.”

Tabitha didn’t even know what that meant, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask. Both boys backed up at the sound of car door being opened. Tabitha curled into herself when they quickly rushed into the living room to pretend all was normal. The bathroom door slammed, leaving her alone, and her entire body started shaking in response. She buried her head against her knees and let out one choked sob before she started fighting to keep her crying silent.

She hated being a teenager.

Ever since she’d gotten boobs and hips, the threat of Vaughn had been looming around every corner, and he wasn’t the only one. Lots of her brother’s friends harassed her. The thought occurred to her that maybe she wasn’t as ugly as she once thought she was, and it wasn’t a pleasant realization.

She had to start hiding these things better. She needed baggier clothes. Maybe she should hack off her hair too. Wyatt was always saying how pretty it was. It could be part of the problem. She shakily got to her feet when she heard her mother’s voice from the living room.

She went to the sink and worked at washing herself up. There was blood all over her white blouse. It soaked her hair and was still running down her face and ear. The water turned pink when she tilted her head and put it under the faucet to get it off. She really needed a shower, but she didn’t have a change of clothes in the bathroom.

She jumped at another knock on the door, hitting her head against the faucet. She hissed and cursed under her breath, “Shit.”

“What the heck are you doing in there?” her mother called. “Trying to drown yourself?”

“Sorry, Mama. I need a moment.”

“I got to pee. Been holding it since work.”

Tabitha sighed and turned off the water. She grabbed more toilet paper and held it to her head as she reluctantly opened the door.

Her mother gasped when she saw her. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I tripped.” Tabitha pressed harder on the toilet paper, hoping to soak most of the damning evidence. “It’s nothing.”

“It don’t look like nothing. You’re bleeding like a stuck pig. Look at your shirt.” Her mother frowned and leaned forward to stare at Tabitha’s forehead. “Well, lemme look at it.”

Tabitha removed the toilet paper. Showing off the injury. She studied her mother’s face, seeing her frown in concern.

“Dang it, Tab, I think you need stitches.” Her shoulders slumped in misery. “There goes my paycheck. How do these things always happen to you?”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Tabitha argued and took another shuddering breath. “We’ll just put a bandage on it.”

“Sheriff’s been sniffing round here. I think that Powers kid’s been talking to him. Can’t believe you still hang out with that trash.”

“Nah, Clay doesn’t say anything to anyone. You know he’s quiet.”

Her mother wrapped a hand around the back of her neck, tugging Tabitha forward rough enough to make her flinch after the event in the bathroom, but she didn’t notice as she pressed a finger to the tender skin above the wound. “Looks like it’s mostly stopped bleeding. Maybe a bandage will do.”

“Yeah,” Tabitha agreed. “Definitely.”

“You been crying?” her mother asked. “You’re all flushed, and what the heck happened to your arm?”

Tabitha looked at her arm, seeing the red marks left by Vaughn’s vise grip from earlier. “Um,” she stuttered and then choked back the rise of fear when Brett coughed from the living room. “B-Brett tried to catch me before I fell.”

“Yeah, he’s a good brother. Always saving you from yourself. Wish you were more like him. Your head’s in the clouds ninety percent of the time. You’re always tripping over something.” Her mother seemed appeased with that as she let Tabitha go. “Let me pee; then I’ll doctor it myself.”

Tabitha couldn’t help but snort in disbelief as the door closed behind her. She narrowed her eyes as she looked over at Brett and Vaughn sitting on the couch, giving her similar looks of challenge as if daring her to say something.

She started cleaning before her mama got out of the bathroom. She held the tissue to her head and worked on the enormous mess in the living room one-handed. Usually she was good about keeping it clean, but she’d been caught up with the start of school and let it get out of control. They’d had a party here last weekend, and no one had bothered to pick up afterward.

Surprisingly, Brett got up and started helping her.

“Is he sending the state out?” Brett asked her under his breath as he grabbed a pizza box off the counter while Tabitha worked on sweeping the cigarette ashes off the coffee table.

She shuddered at the amount of dirt and grime that landed on the carpet. She needed to clean out this wound on her head with something really antiseptic. The carpet was going to need at least five rounds with the vacuum cleaner, and she still needed to get the blood out of it.

“Can you try and fix the vacuum cleaner?” she asked him rather than answer his question. “It smells like smoke whenever I use it. I think something’s caught in it.”

“Damn it,” Brett growled, catching her hidden hint.

Tabitha wasn’t sure if Wyatt was going to send the state out or not.

“Wait, I don’t understand what the problem is. What’s wrong with one kiss? Why do y’all think you got to ride out there in the middle of the night?”

Wyatt shrugged at his sister from across the coffee table. “I don’t get it either, but I’m telling you, Tabitha was scared near to death ’bout the two of us getting caught by her brother and that asshole Vaughn.”

“You’re an idiot.” Clay shook his head as he glared at Wyatt from his seat next to Jules. “Brett’s freaking out. I promise you. No one likes a cop in that neck of town. If we do decide to go check on her, I’m going alone.”

“Hell, no, I’m going with you.” Wyatt gestured to himself and gave Clay a hard look. “Do you see a sheriff’s badge on my chest?”

“Yes, I do,” Clay argued. “That’s all anyone sees when they look at you. Why didn’t you just listen to her when she said no the five hundred times before? Why do you have to be so damn stubborn ’bout everything?”

“Oh, I’m stubborn.” Wyatt laughed incredulously. “That really means something coming from you. I told you I was going to make this my year. Now you have an issue with it? What’d you think I meant by that?”

“You say that every year. I didn’t think you’d actually do it.” Clay’s dark eyes narrowed. “Out in the open. At the end of her damn street. That’s ’bout as slick as sandpaper. I can’t believe I’ve got to claim such a dumbass as a best friend.”

“I still don’t understand. What is the actual problem?” Jules cut in reasonably. “Are you afraid her brother is going to do something bad to her because of this? Or Vaughn? You said he threatened her. Do you think he meant it?”

“Yes,” Clay and Wyatt answered together.

“Then we should call Daddy,” Jules announced and pushed back her chair. “He can stop by her house and make sure she’s okay. It’ll be much quicker than Clay riding out in the middle of the night.”

“You can’t call him.” Clay grabbed her wrist before she could stand.

“Why not?” Jules twisted her wrist, breaking his hold. She slapped his hand when he tried to touch her again. “Don’t be grabbing at me. I hit back.”

“You did this.” Clay held up his hands and gave Wyatt a look across the table. “I suggest you stop her if you ever want Tabitha to speak to you again.”

“I ain’t so sure she’s in the wrong.” Wyatt shook his head. “Maybe we should call my dad. I’ve been leaning that way myself since I left.”

“Thank you, Wyatt,” Jules said, still sounding cool and collected. “If you think she’s in danger of being raped—”

Wyatt flinched at the word, feeling the bile rising up in the back of his throat. “Don’t say that, Ju Ju. It makes me feel sick.”

Clay scratched at the back of his neck and took a long breath as if looking for a different solution. “Why don’t we just call her?”

Wyatt and Jules exchanged looks and then agreed in unison. “Okay.”

Clay went to the phone in the kitchen and dialed her number while Wyatt and Jules crowded in close to him so they could hear. The phone rang three times before it was picked up.

“Yeah?”

“Mrs. McMillen.” Clay cleared his voice, obviously trying to get rid of the gruffness that was always there. “Tabitha there?”

“Why?”

“’Cause I wanna talk to her.”

“Nah, she ain’t here.”

“Bullshit.” He growled in annoyance. When Wyatt kicked him, Clay held up his hand, as if to say let me do my thing before he said in a low, demanding voice, “Just let me talk to her.”

“It’s eleven at night. Ain’t the sheriff teaching you manners up in that big Conner house?”

“No, he ain’t. Can I talk to Tab, or do I need to ride my ass up there and get my homework assignment in person?”

“Yeah, you ride up here. See what you find when you get here.”

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll get a lift. Sheriff just got off work.”

“Hell.” She sounded completely exasperated, but after a long pause, she called. “Tabitha! That Powers trash is on the phone.”

Wyatt pushed himself closer to the phone when he heard Tabitha ask in confusion, “What?”

“Said he needs a homework assignment. Like he’s doing real schoolwork.” Tabitha’s mother’s words were slurred as she kept rambling. “Don’t know why you keep hanging round him. Born trash, will always be trash, and now he’s living at the Conner house again ’cause no one can put up with him and—”