Page 55 of Restitution

Kyle, my new twenty-two-year-old brother, had walked me to my room, helped me decorate it the way I wanted and started driving me to my dance classes. We always got fast food on the way home, and he made sure I always had the newest technology. He bought me an aerial hoop to put in their basement, but Nora refused to let him drill into the ceiling.

He was the good big brother. One Ialways wanted.

Chris was the worst.

When he first laid eyes on me, he shook my hand, squeezed it too hard, then let his eyes drop, lingering on my flat chest.

We were halfway through lunch when I realised he’d been staring at me the entire time. He kept kicking my foot, pressing his thigh up against mine, and when we got home, he walked me to my room and asked if I needed help out of my dress.

I remember the revulsion I felt as I told him to get out, and it was at that moment I realised who I lived with.

He barged into my shower that night. Ordered me to strip while he dealt with himself, watching, staring, forcing me to wash my body and hair.

I was innocent and young, yet he made me feel dirty without even touching me. He put thoughts in my head that shouldn’t have been there at that age. Praying wasn’t something I ever did, but at night, when he would sneak into my room, I’d pray that he died.

I’d pray for him to meet his end.

I needed someone to help me. Someone to listen.

My dad was all I had, and he didn’t believe me, so I had nothing. Nora became his number one, and Kyle just thought Chris was obsessed with having a little sister. Why would he believe me when my own father wouldn’t?

I knew he would eventually go too far.

From the age of fourteen, I waited in fear every single fucking day for that monster to land his hardest blow. And when I turned nineteen, he did it twice in the same month.

He killed my unborn child then drugged me, raped me, and destroyed the only good thing I had left in life.

After Kade moved away and my dad passed, the violence gotworse. I have a scar between my breasts from him dragging a key down my chest to deter others from touching what he thought was his, and multiple mental bruises from the memories of fists flying at me – always in places others wouldn’t see.

Let’s not forget the time we went on a family holiday and he held my head underwater until I nearly passed out, only to then “save me” from drowning to look like a good big brother.

The look my dad gave me when I told him about Chris still haunts me – a look that said,You really want me to believe he sexually assaults you?

Chris was sick. Deluded. Monstrous. Brutal. The thorn I couldn’t remove from my side.

I was terrified of him.

Now I’m staring at the piece of shit while Aria stands back, her hands covered in blood from trying to stop the bleeding.

She managed to stitch some of his wounds using what she could find in the lodge, but then again, she’s a scientist not a medical doctor.

It’s no use. The evidence of Kade’s rage is all over the room. A severed foot, slashes everywhere and an evident stab wound to the groin. My own stab wounds are in his thighs, still leaking dark blood.

“He’s lost too much blood,” Aria says, wiping her hands on a cloth. “I’m not sure how he’s still alive. But he won’t be for long.”

She’s ghostly pale as she watches me, her tired eyes flickering to Chris.

She’s seen death. Tobias made sure of that.

He might well be insane, but at least he’s on our side.

So much trauma in our lives, yet we’re still here, fighting.

Aria’s hands shake as she rests one on my shoulder, squeezing. “Luciella will be home tomorrow, and I think when she is, weshould all go home. Barry can put on extra security around the manor. We… we’ll figure out what to do for Tobias. Kade needs to be home.”

I chew my lip. “Bernadette will come for him.”

“She’s busy dealing with the media frenzy and the death of her daughter.”