In Flight (Up in the Air #1)(56)

We got ready for bed in silence later, and my body sang with anticipation as I lay down to wait for James, who was still in the bathroom.

He joined me a few minutes later, sliding in beside me and spooning me from behind. I tensed, waiting to see what kind of a move he would make, but he just nuzzled against my hair and settled down to sleep.

I tried to turn to him, but he kept me securely in place, placing a soft kiss on my temple.

“I’m letting you recover for a few days, Love. Just sleep. I’m content to hold you for tonight.”

I was in that house again. I lay in my hard, tiny bed. I was hugging my knees to my chest, rocking and rocking, and trying to ignore the harsh shouts just a few thin walls away.

If I stayed in my room, it would all go away. They would forget I was even here and in the morning my Dad would sleep all day and leave us in peace so I could tend to my Mother.

But that wasn’t meant to be. Not this time.

The yelling grew louder, my mother’s shouts turning into terrified screams. When I couldn’t stand the horrible noises a moment longer, I crept quietly through the house to investigate.

In spite of my overwhelming fear, my need to at least attempt to aid my mother almost always thrust me into the violent thick of things.

I looked down at my thin bare feet, wishing I knew where some clean socks were. I was so cold, an achy kind of cold, down to my very soul.

My parents were speaking in Swedish, and I pieced together some hysterical words as I got closer to the kitchen where they fought.

“No, no, no. Please, Sven, put that away.”

My father’s voice was an angry roar. “You’ve ruined my life. You and that brat. I’ve lost everything because of you. My fortune, my inheritance, and now, my luck. You’ve taken everything from me, just by living. Tell me why I shouldn’t take everything from you, you silly cunt?”

“When you’re sober, you’ll regret it. We have a child together, Sven. Please, just go to sleep. If you sleep on it, you’ll feel better.”

“Don’t you dare tell me what to do! Fuck sleep. Fuck you. And f**k that little brat. Look at her, hovering in the door, frozen like a frightened little mouse.” His cold eyes went to me.

I was frozen in place, as he’d said.

He changed his tone when he spoke to me, and it turned into a mockery of a gentle tone. “Why don’t you join us, sotnos? Come be with your pretty Mama.”

I moved to my mother, having learned a very long time ago not to disobey him when he was in this mood.

He sneered at the two of us when I stood beside her.

I was in my early teens and tall, already taller than my mother, but he towered over us both.

My mother didn’t look at me, didn’t reach for me. I knew she didn’t want to draw more attention to me. She tried to protect me, as I did her, though she did a better job of it than I did.

“Look at my pretty girls. The daughter is even prettier than the mother. What use, then, is the mother? Tell me why you’re useful, Mama?” he asked her.

I didn’t hear her answer. My gaze was focused solely now on the object he was holding at his side. It was a gun. My gut clenched in dread. The gun was a new and terrifying addition to this violent scene.

My gaze flew back to my father’s face as a laugh left his throat. It was a cackle of a laugh, dry and angry. I began to back away, shaking my head back and forth in denial.

“Wrong answer, cunt,” he said.

He waved the the pistol in front of her. “You can’t take your eyes off of this. Do you want it? Would you like me to give this to you? Take it, if you want it. You think I can’t touch you with a gun in your hand?”

My mother watched him, her eyes almost blank with terror. She must know, as I did, from the mocking tone of his voice, that he was testing her. She would pay dearly if she took the gun from him, even if he had told her to.

He laughed. “I insist. Take the gun.”

Unexpectedly, and horrifyingly, she did. She pointed it at him with hands that shook.

“Get out,” she said, her voice tremulous and awful with her terror. “You can’t do these things, especially in front of our daughter. Get out, and don’t come back.” She was sobbing, but she managed to pull the hammer back.

He laughed again. With no fear and no effort, he grabbed her hand. His hand covered one of hers, ripping the other one away. He turned the gun, slowly and inexorably pointing it away from himself and pushing it into her mouth.

I had backed myself against the wall as I watched their exchange, but when I saw his clear intent, I suddenly rushed forward, sobbing.

“Mama,” I cried.

I stopped as though I’d run into a wall when my father pulled the trigger, covering us, and the entire room, in bright red blood and gore.

My horrified eyes met my father’s. His showed no expression at all.

I screamed, sitting up.

I was out of the bed and in the bathroom as fast as my body could move. I began to scrub at my face, over and over again. My breath was shaky and gasping.

The light turned on behind me.

“Are you alright?” James asked, his voice soft with concern.

I couldn’t look at him. I especially couldn’t look at my reflection. I hadn’t had that dream in a very long time. I usually couldn’t look at myself for days after I had that dream.