Broken Wings (Broken Wings 1) - Page 20

“My daddy drinks a lot,” he began. “And he gets real mean when he’s drunk. I have a scar on my right leg from the time he hit me with the broken end of a beer bottle. He threw it across the room. I was about seven.”

“What about your mother?”

“She’s what they call a manic depressive. Ever hear of that?”

I shook my head.

“She goes up and down. Sometimes she gets so depressed she won’t come out of her bedroom all day, not even to eat. Can’t blame her, being married to him.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I have a sister, Sally Jean, but she ran off with her boyfriend about two years ago. She had good reason to get away from my father, even better reason than I have,” he said, his eyes growing small and dark. “She’s out in Texas and once in a while, she sends me a postcard. One of these days, I might join her,” he added wistfully. Then he turned to me and said, “I’m one who knows it’s not easy to be on your own, so I can appreciate what you and your sister have been going through. I hope she does well here.”

“Thank you,” I said in a small voice. Guilt made me feel like I was taking a bath in dirty old engine oil.

“But just know that Nashville’s so full of people dreaming of stardom, you can smell fantasy in the air,” he warned.

We were both quiet until he turned into the apartment complex.

“The apartment seemed farther by bus,” I said.

“Yeah, with the stops and all, it would.”

“Thank you very much,” I told him after opening the door.

“No problem. Next time you’re downtown, stop by if you want. I’ll show you how to pull a ding out of a car door.”

I laughed and got out slowly. He waved and then shifted and backed up. I watched him drive off before heading for the stairs to the upstairs apartments. It was nearly twelve-thirty and I was anticipating Mother darling’s rage. Instead, I was surprised to find no one home and even more surprised to find the door unlocked. Was it just that there was nothing here anyone would want to steal?

At least I had the bathroom to myself for a while. Afterward, I got into bed and realized the sheets and the blanket smelled like they’d been made in a cigarette factory. The stench nearly choked me. I decided to put my clothes back on and not use the blanket. I put one of my skirts over the pillow and finally, after tossing and turning for an hour, fell asleep, only to be awakened by the sound of laughter. It was just Mother darling and Cory, but they made enough noise for a half-dozen people. I heard Cory say, “Told you this would be easier here.”

“I’d better check on Robin and be sure she’s come home,” Mother darling told him.

I decided to pretend I was in a deep sleep. She opened the door and stood there so long, I thought she didn’t believe I was asleep. Finally, she closed it. I heard them giggling and then, a little while later, I heard them in his bedroom. It wasn’t hard to realize what they were doing. Mother darling kept trying to

get him to be quieter.

“What for? Robin Lyn surely knows what it’s all about, and if she don’t, it’s time she did,” he said.

I tried burying my head in the pillow, but the odor of cigarettes was too much to endure. It wasn’t until they fell asleep that I did. I was up ahead of them in the morning, which suited me fine because I was able to take a shower and get dressed before Mother darling and Cory woke. At least, that was what I had hoped.

I was positive I had pushed in the little button on the doorknob that would lock it, but just a few seconds after I had gotten under the water in the tub shower, I heard the door opening and screamed at the sight of Cory, naked himself, stumbling his way toward the toilet. For a moment I thought he didn’t even realize I was there, despite the sound of the shower and my scream. He just began to urinate.

I pulled the flimsy shower curtain around me.

“I’m taking a shower!” I screamed.

“You gotta go when you gotta go,” he mumbled.

When he was finished, he turned to go, but paused at the door and said, “Don’t forget to wash behind your ears.” He closed the door on his laughter.

Flushed with embarrassment and anger, I turned off the shower and dried myself. As soon as I was dressed, I charged out of the bathroom. They were both still in bed.

“Mother!” I called at the closed door.

There was a long moment of silence and then I heard, “Call me Kay, damn it.”

“Kay, I need to see you right now.”

Tags: V.C. Andrews Broken Wings Horror
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