The Boarding House (14 page)

The joy in Ellie’s heart vanished—just like that. She laid her sandwich back on the plate and then sat with her eyes on her glass, watching a cold drop of condensation make a run for the tablecloth.

“The people who changed your tire, were they old or young?”

The condensation hit the cloth, then slowly soaked into the fabric, leaving a small tear-shaped stain.

Ellie’s voice trembled, and no matter how many deep breaths she took, she couldn’t make it stop. “They were two Latino guys who looked like they might be my age. I was a little nervous at first because I thought they were wearing gang colors, but they didn’t say or do anything that made me think they meant to hurt me. They just changed the tire and left.”

She watched her father’s face flush. This didn’t feel right.

“You’re asking me to believe you didn’t know them, and that they just stopped? Bullshit! Boys like that don’t do anything for free. They didn’t ask for money?”

“No, Daddy. I told you, they just changed the tire and left.”

“They didn’t want anything from you?”

The storm was coming closer. She could feel the heat from his anger and no matter what she said, she couldn’t make it stop. It made her angry as well. Was there never going to be a day of peace in her miserable life?

“Like what? What are you getting at?”

“I know what boys like that want from a girl like you.”

Ellie started to shake. “Boys like that? A girl like me? What the hell are you trying to say?”

He stood up, towering over her where she sat. “I’m talking about lowlifes like them.”

“And what do you call a girl like me? Your daughter or your whore?”

He slapped her.

Ellie fell backward. The chair hit the floor, taking her with it.

Their gazes locked in a moment of shocked silence and then Ellie rolled onto her knees and bolted, but he was right behind her, running in an all-out sprint.

Ellie heard the roar of Sophie’s television and realized that even if she called for help, Sophie wouldn’t hear a thing. She hit her bedroom door with the flat of her hand and slid sideways before grabbing the doorknob. Her heart was pounding, her breath coming in short frantic gasps as she slammed the door shut. She shoved the slide bolt into place and ran backward until she reached the wall. The bones were melting in her legs. She was going to die. The door reverberated from the first kick.

Ellie screamed and started to move backward, only to realize she was already against the wall.

“Wyatt!” she screamed. “Wyatt help me!”

The adjoining door didn’t open. Wyatt wasn’t here. No one was going to come to her rescue.

The door reverberated again and Ellie watched in horror as the frame split away from the wall, taking hinges and the rest of the door with it.

Ellie shuddered, and then everything began to happen in slow motion. Rage changed Daddy’s face from a man to a demon with its mouth wide-open in a roar she couldn’t hear—the floor was quaking beneath her feet from the impact of his stride—his hands turned into claws—reaching for her throat.

And then he grabbed her. “Did you fuck those boys? Did you? Did they crawl between your legs?”

She spit in his face.

Garrett hit her with his fist then seemed surprised when she went limp. It didn’t stop his rage, he just threw her over his shoulder, jumped the broken door and carried her to his room and locked them in.

She was seemingly lifeless when he threw her onto his bed and began tearing at her clothes, ripping them in pieces until she was naked. He wanted to see for himself. He had to know if she’d been with them.

“Wake up,” he shouted, and slapped her cheek again.

She didn’t blink as her head lolled to one side.

“Wake up, damn it,” Garrett yelled, and shook her by the shoulders.

She dropped back onto the mattress without making a sound.

“Have it your way,” he muttered, and then ripped off his clothes and climbed onto the bed.

The force of the water hit the top of her head, spilling down her face to her breasts, onto the flat planes of her belly, then the valley between her thighs. She kept turning the tap, making the water run hotter and hotter until her skin was burning. She was desperate to wash away the shame. The longer she stood, the more resentment began to build. She was mad at God for ever letting her be born—at Momma for abandoning her to a fate truly worse than death—and at Wyatt for turning his back on her when she needed him most.

She had not directed anger toward Garrett, because you had to love someone before their betrayal hurt. She didn’t know if she’d ever loved her Daddy, but she knew how she felt about him now and love had nothing to do with it.

When she began to hear hammering above the rush of water, her first thought was that he was back and coming through this door. But when she stepped out from beneath the spray to listen, she could tell the sounds were inside her room, but farther away.

Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

What was he doing? Oh my God, couldn’t Sophie hear anything anymore? Ellie slid to the bottom of the tub, her heart hammering against her chest as she hid her face against her knees.

The water kept running.

The hammering didn’t stop.

She stayed in the tub until the water ran cold. When she finally turned it off the silence was startling. Even the hammering had stopped.

Her body was so sore it was a struggle to get up. As she was reaching for a towel, she accidentally caught a glimpse of herself.

Shock swept through her in waves.

There was a spreading purple bruise on her jaw and another one on her neck. One eye was nearly swollen shut and there were bite marks on her breasts and scratches on her thighs. She didn’t remember what had happened, but she knew—she knew.

Shock shifted swiftly to rage. Why hadn’t he gone ahead and killed her? She would have preferred it.

When she realized she was standing on her pajamas and had gotten them wet, she kicked them in a corner. No way would she put those back on. His scent was on them, too.

She needed clean clothes, but they were all beyond this door. Did she dare look? What if he was sitting on the side of her bed, waiting for her to come out?

Suddenly, it occurred to her that there was nothing left that he could do to her that he hadn’t already done. The recognition of that horror turned her fear to rage . She had no one left to depend on but herself. To hell with hiding. To hell with being afraid. The only thing left was to kill her, and she wasn’t afraid to die.

She started to wrap a towel around herself then decided it was too much like closing the barn door after the horse was out. In a gesture of defiance, she dropped it on the floor and walked out completely nude, only to find herself alone. There was a new door on her room and with a new lock like the one she’d had before. She slid the bolt into place then went to get dressed. It was Sunday and there was a strong and growing need within her to be washed in the blood.

An hour passed, and when she came out dressed and ready for church, she found a note taped to the outside of her door.

Went to get your flat fixed. Daddy

She stared. Was that how it was going to play out? Just like that they’d move on? No, I’m sorry—no, are you okay—just, I’m just off to do a chore? She ripped the note from her door, wadded it up and dropped it on the floor.

She glanced toward Sophie’s room. There was no sound coming from inside. Either she was sleeping in, or she was gone for a walk. Sophie liked to take walks in the neighborhood when the weather was good. At this point, Ellie didn’t much care. Having a nanny hadn’t helped her last night.

Her footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as she walked down the hall. She remembered Momma’s heels making the same sound when she dressed up, but just thinking about Momma made Ellie pissed. Momma had been a coward, going off to live with Jesus and leaving Ellie alone with the Devil.

In the living room, she paused to check her appearance before leaving the house. It was going to raise questions and she was still uncertain what she would say.

The mirror had been Momma’s favorite. It had been a wedding gift from Ellie’s grandparents. They’d died when she was too young to remember them, but it was huge, spanning more than three feet across and four feet long, with a burnished gold frame decorated with bas-relief carvings of ribbons and angels.

When Ellie was little, she’d pretend she was Sleeping Beauty and stand before it, reciting the phrase from Beauty’s story.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest one of all?
Once Daddy had heard her and scooped her up into his arms and said she was the fairest.

She wondered what he’d say now.

She looked at herself with a judgmental eye as Sophie had taught her. Her hair was hanging in soft waves, framing her face and hanging just below her shoulders. Her makeup was perfect, as were her nails. The springtime weather had been unusually warm, so she’d chosen a pink linen sundress with a matching jacket and wore white strappy sandals. The only thing wrong with the picture was the bruise on her throat, her swollen eye and purple chin.

Rationally, she knew it would have been smart to stay hidden until she healed and all the bruising had faded, but that wasn’t possible. She had school tomorrow, and six weeks later, she would graduate. She wasn’t going to miss the last six weeks of her education just because her father had lost his mind. She still had to cope with life and she couldn’t do it by hiding.

Bracing herself for the morning ahead, she dug the car keys out of her purse and left the house.

Fifteen minutes later, Ellie sat in the church parking lot, trying to get up the nerve to get out of the car. She imagined Daddy was probably at the house by now and freaking out because she was gone. He would go through her room to see if she’d packed any clothes—to see if she was running away. She didn’t care what he thought. He didn’t know it, but in a way, what had happened to her last night had been freeing. Short of murder, he couldn’t hurt her anymore.

She could see Preacher Ray standing in the doorway like always, shaking hands and greeting his parishioners. Beyond that opening was her redemption. She’d come here with a need for solace. All she had to do was get out and walk in.

Preacher Ray saw her coming up the walk. His first thought was that Ellie Wayne had come alone. He didn’t think she’d ever done that before. The smile was still on his face from the child he had just greeted, but when he saw her condition, it froze. He extended his hand in greeting, just as he did to all who entered, when in reality he wanted to wrap his arms around her.

“Good morning,” Ellie said, and shook his hand firmly.

“Ellie. Child. What happened?”

Ellie paused. There were all kinds of excuses she could have given, but it didn’t seem right to lie to a man of God.

“I’ve been raped.”

“No, no, dear Lord, no.” His eyes filled with tears. “How can I help you?”