Playing Patience

I knew I was being loud and I didn’t give a shit.

She started shushing me and I looked down at her like she was crazy.

“Don’t tell me to be quiet.” I was getting even angrier that she was still afraid of him.

She never needed to be afraid again. I’d kill the son of a bitch if he even looked at her the wrong way.

“Don’t be scared of him, snowflake. If he even thinks about touching you, I’ll kill him.” I looked him dead in his eyes when I said it.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, young man.” He attempted to deny it. I got even louder and Patience shushed me again.

“Why are you telling me to be quiet? Who gives a shit who knows? He needs to go to jail, Patience. He belongs in jail.”

“Zeke, please stop. My mom will hear you.” Her eyes filled with tears.

And then another thing became clear to me. She was hiding it because of her mother. Her mom was dying and Patience, being the most selfless person I knew, would rather hold on to the dark secret than to let her mother die knowing what was happening to her.

“You need to leave,” her dad said sternly.

“No, what I need to do is come over there and beat you to death.” My chest pressed up against Patience’s tiny palms as I felt myself losing control.

“I have a gun in my desk drawer that says you need to leave,” he snapped with angry eyes.

Then I felt myself moving toward him. A threat was a threat and he’d just thrown one down on me. I stood toe to toe with him and I enjoyed the fear that crept into his eyes.

I felt Patience tugging at my arm.

“Please, Zeke, please just go,” she said over and over again.

I didn’t blink as I stared into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”

I wasn’t. There was no way in hell I was leaving her in that house with that fucker. Especially considering I’d probably just made things worse for her.

“Fine.” She was panicking. “Please, just let’s go.”

And then I was backing away from him as she pressed against my chest with her hands. My eyes never left his face. I’d never wanted to rip the flesh from someone so badly in my life.

I didn’t breathe again until we were in my car. I turned to her and she stared back at me with wide eyes.

“You should’ve told me.” I wanted to cry.

The sadness I felt for her combined with the raw anger I felt toward her dad was overwhelming.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

I pulled her to me and held her in my arms as she started to cry.

“Don’t ever apologize to me for anything. If anything, I should apologize. Had I known I would’ve handled things differently.”

The front of my shirt was getting wet from her tears. I pushed her hair from her damp cheeks and kissed her forehead. I vowed in that moment to take care of her. There was no way in hell I was letting her go back to that house, not until that fucker was under the jailhouse or dead.

I pulled away and looked down at her. “Where’s your little sister?”

I hadn’t even thought about her little sister. She spilled her guts. Right there in the front yard of death and the devil. She told me about the years of being abused, about finding out the governor wasn’t her father, and about her fears for Sydney. She explained that she didn’t think he’d touch Sydney because she was really his. I didn’t buy it. He was obviously a sick man and sick men could give a shit less about who their victim was.

Still, she said she kept a close eye on her sister and only stayed away when her sister did. It was strange finding out these things about Patience, things that made who she was even more understandable. We’d both grown up in fucked-up environments and we’d both saved each other. We were meant to be together and I’d soothe her hurt the same way she’d soothed mine.

“I understand if you never want to touch me again,” she said through tears.

I looked down at her like she was crazy.

“That, you will never have to worry about,” her lips felt soft and moist against mine when I gently kissed her. “Let’s get you home.”

I pulled out of the driveway.

“Home?” she asked.

“Yes, home. No way am I letting you come back here. We’re going to go home, figure out what our next step should be, and then we’re calling the police.”

“I can’t, Zeke. It would kill my mother.”

“You can’t guarantee he’ll never touch your little sister, snowflake, and you can’t follow her around until she’s old enough to move out. You have a life to live too—one that I hope you’ll share with me. Do this for her? Please, do this for us.”