Hot as Hell (Deep Six 0.5)(41)

So maybe Maddy was interested in the young stud and—

Red edged into Bran’s vision at the idea of Maddy in the ranger’s arms. He could picture Rick kissing the soft skin on Maddy’s throat. Imagine Maddy wrapping her arms around Rick’s shoulders and arching into his caresses. And suddenly, the monster inside Bran roared to life, bringing with it a memory that snarled and snapped, nipping at the heels of his mind…

“Bran, baby,” his mother whispered as she shoved him into the coat closet. “Be quiet, okay? And no matter what you hear, you don’t come out.” Her big, dark eyes were frantic, the soft skin around them showing fading bruises.

“Yes, Momma.” He nodded, his lower lip quivering.

“You f*ckin’ bitch!” His father’s voice boomed from the front of the house. “I saw the way you were looking at him!”

Bran burrowed back against the wall when his mother closed him in just as she had countless times before. Just as she surely would countless times to come. Darkness filled the closet. Only a thin sliver of light showed around the edges of the door, and the smell of old wool drifted down from the coats overhead to mix with the faint aroma of pee that lingered from the last time he was in here.

He’d tried to hold it. He’d pinched himself until he was bruised, bit his lip until he tasted blood, but eventually he hadn’t been able to stand it. It had hurt so bad. And he’d had an accident all over the wood floor.

He would not have an accident this time. He would not make Momma clean him up when all he wanted her to do was lie on the sofa and watch Little House on the Prairie. She smiled when she watched Little House on the Prairie. He figured it was because Pa Ingalls was always so nice. Pa Ingalls never screamed and hit. Pa Ingalls never pushed or shoved or called anyone bad names.

When Bran grew up, he was going to be just like Pa. Not like Daddy. Never like Daddy…

“Donny.” Momma’s voice was soft and low. “Calm down, my love. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Daddy thundered, and Bran closed his eyes when Momma cried out at something Daddy did to her. “I saw the look you gave the mailman!”

“Donny, I swear I didn’t—”

A sickening sound, a familiar sound, like the one Bran’s basketball made when he tossed it against the side of the house, blasted through the door of the closet, followed closely by Momma’s cries.

Bran curled into a ball on the floor. His legs to his chest. A terrible ache clutched at his belly until he thought he might throw up the macaroni and cheese Momma had made him for lunch. He covered his ears and willed himself not to be sick.

“Donny, please!” Momma begged. “I swear I didn’t do anything! I love you! Only you!”

“You don’t want the mailman?” Daddy demanded.

“Of course not, Donny! I don’t know what you think you saw, but I promise you it was nothing. You’re the only man for me.”

For a long time everything was quiet. Bran could hear each of his breaths. They sounded funny. Like when he ran really fast for a really long time.

Then Daddy said, “Oh, Loraine!” And his voice was no longer raised. Instead it was kind of muffled like he’d taken a big bite of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? I didn’t mean to hurt you. When I see you with another man, it just makes me so—”

“I know, Donny.” Momma was using her feel-better voice. The same one Bran heard when he fell down and scraped his knee. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Bran could hear the sound of kissing coming through the door. That meant Daddy was done. He wouldn’t hit Momma anymore.

“You won’t open the door to that man ever again,” Daddy said between kisses. “You hear me, Loraine? You let him drop the letters in the box.”

“Of course, Donny,” Momma said.

For a long time, no sound breached the quiet except for the smack of kisses, the rustle of clothes, and Bran’s catching breaths. Then Momma gasped, “Donny, we can’t.”

“Why not?” Daddy asked. “You got your period or something?”

“No.” Momma’s voice was halting, careful. “R-remember you told me I could take Bran to see a rerun of Bambi at that theater in the South Ward?”

“That’s tonight?”

“Yes, that’s tonight. You could come with us, Donny,” Momma said, and Bran shook his head even though no one could see him.

“To a ridiculous cartoon about a bunch of silly animals? I’m a full-grown man, Loraine. I ain’t got time for that kiddie shit.” Bran blew out a relieved breath, wrinkling his nose because it smelled bad, like sour milk.

“But it’s Bran’s birthday and—”

“And I’ll start celebrating with him when he’s old enough to drink a beer and tell a good joke,” Daddy said. “You go, Loraine.” Then the sound of his work boots on the floor carried toward the front of the house. “I’ll head down to the pub and raise a toast to Bran’s birthday with the boys.”

Only after the front door slammed did Bran dare push up to his knees. And then the closet was opening and there was Momma, bending down to him. Her face wasn’t bleeding this time, but a ring of purple bruises was forming on one side of her jaw.