12

LENA DREAMED that she heard a hammer pounding against a nail. When she rolled over in bed, she half expected to see her hand being pinned to the floor, but what she saw instead was Hank, tapping out the hinges to her bedroom door.

Lena sat up in bed, yelling, “What the fuck?”

“I told you things were gonna change,” Hank said, still tapping at the pin holding the hinge together.

“Jesus Christ,” Lena said, putting her hands to her ears, trying to block out the hammering sound. She looked at the clock on the dresser. “It’s not even six o’clock,” she yelled. “I don’t even have to be at work until nine today.”

“Gives us plenty of time,” Hank said, sliding the pin from the hinge.

“You’re taking off my door?” Lena demanded, pulling the sheet to her chest even though she was wearing a heavy sweatshirt and matching pants. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

Hank ignored her as he started working on the top hinge.

“Stop it,” Lena ordered, getting out of bed and taking the sheet with her.

Hank kept tapping, still ignoring her.

He said, “Things are changing, starting today.”

“What things?”

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of notebook paper. “Here,” he said, handing it to her.

Lena unfolded the paper, but her eyes could not focus on the words. She was reminded of when she was a teenager, and Hank had not approved of a boy Lena was seeing. His solution then had been to nail her bedroom windows shut so that she would not be able to sneak out anymore at night. She had pointed out this was a fire hazard, and Hank had countered that he would rather see her burned alive than hooked up with that trash she was seeing.

Lena tried to take the hammer from him, but he was too strong.

She said, “I’m not a baby, goddamn it.”

“You’re my baby,” Hank said, jerking the hammer back. He tapped out the last pin and the door dropped to the floor. “I held you in these hands,” he said, dropping the hammer to show her his hands. “I walked with you at night when you wouldn’t stop crying, I made sure you had your lunch when you went to school, and I loaned you the money to make the down payment on this house.”

“I paid you back every goddamn penny.”

“This here’s the interest,” he said, wrapping his hands around the edges of the door. He lifted it with a heavy groan.

Lena watched, incredulous, as he carried the door out into the hallway.

“Why are you doing this?” she whined. “Hank, stop it.”

“No more secrets in this house,” he mumbled, straining to set the door against the wall. He turned to her, saying, “I’m laying down the law here, child.”

“I’m not doing any of this,” she said, throwing the list at him.

“The hell you say,” he countered, catching the paper before it hit the floor. “You’re gonna do every goddamn thing on this list every day, or I’ll have a talk with your boss. How’s that?”

“Don’t threaten me,” she said, following him back into the bedroom.

“You take it as a threat if you want,” Hank said, yanking open one of the drawers in her bureau. He rummaged through her underwear, then slammed the drawer closed and opened the next one.

“What are you doing?”

“Here,” he said, pulling out a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt. “Put these on and be downstairs in five minutes.”

Lena looked at him, and she noticed for the first time that Hank was not dressed in his usual jeans and loud Hawaiian shirt. He was wearing a white T-shirt with a beer advertisement on it and a pair of shorts that looked so new they still had the creases in them from being folded in the package. Brand new sneakers were on his feet, white socks pulled up to just under his knees. His legs were so white that she had to blink several times to see where his legs stopped and the socks began.

“Downstairs for what?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“We’re going running.”

“You’re going to go running with me?” she asked, not believing this. Hank was about as out of shape as a geriatric in a wheelchair. He did not even like walking to the mailbox.

“Five minutes,” he said, leaving the room.

“Bastard,” Lena fumed, contemplating whether or not to go after him. She was so mad she couldn’t see straight, but still, she took off her pants and slid on the shorts.

“Fucking prick,” she mumbled, slipping on the shirt. She had no choice, and that was what was pissing her off. If Hank told Jeffrey half of the stuff he knew about Lena’s behavior, Lena would be out on her ass so fast her head would spin.

Lena allowed herself a glance at the list. It started off with “exercise every day,” and ended with “eat normal meals for breakfast, lunch, and supper.”

From deep inside somewhere, she pulled up every curse word, every expletive, she had ever heard in her ten years as a cop and directed them all toward Hank. She finished with “…fucking motherfucker,” then grabbed her sneakers and went downstairs.

 

LENA sat in Jeffrey’s office, staring at the clock on his wall. He was ten minutes late, which had never happened as long as Lena could remember. She should probably be glad he wasn’t here yet, because Lena needed to sit in order to recover from her morning run with Hank. He was a tough old man, and she had found herself being outpaced by him from their first step outside. Lena had to admit that some of her dogged determination must have come from her uncle, because he seemed to be like Lena: Once he got something in his head that he was going to do, nothing would stop him. Even when Lena had lagged behind, her lungs about to explode, her stomach churning from all the amino acids her muscles were giving up, he had simply jogged in place, his jaw set in an angry line, waiting for her to get over it and get moving.

“Hey,” Jeffrey said, rushing into the office. His tie was loose around his neck and he carried his jacket over his arm.

“Hey,” Lena said, standing.

He motioned for her to sit down. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Traffic.”

“Where?” Lena asked, because the only traffic in town was around the school, and then only at certain times.

Jeffrey did not answer her. He sat at his desk, buttoning his collar with one hand. Lena was not certain, but she could have sworn she saw a red mark on his neck.

She asked, “No word on Lacey yet?”

“No,” he told her, tying his tie. “I talked to Dave Fine on my way in. He’s got the notes from his sessions with Mark.”

“He’s just going to hand them over?” Lena asked, and not for the first time she was glad she had not talked to the pastor about her problems.

“Yeah,” Jeffrey said, smoothing down his tie. “I was surprised, too.”

Lena crossed her arms, staring at her boss. There was something different about him. She just couldn’t place it.

“He’s going to meet me at the hospital at ten,” Jeffrey said, then looked at his watch. “I’m already late.”

“I thought you wanted me to go with you?” Lena asked.

“I want you to get Brad and take Mark to his house,” Jeffrey told her. “Get him some clean clothes, let him take a shower, whatever he needs to do, then take him to the hospital.”

“Why?”

“His mother took a bad turn last night,” Jeffrey said. “Fine thinks she’ll probably be gone this morning.” He tapped his fingers on his desk. “No matter what he did, I’m not going to keep that boy from seeing his mama one last time before she dies.”

Lena was touched by this, but she tried not to let on.

Jeffrey jabbed a finger at her, as if in warning. “I mean it about Brad, Lena. You’re not to be with Mark alone. Do you understand me?”

She thought to protest, but he was right. She did not want to be alone with Mark Patterson. There was something about him that was too raw. Perhaps she identified with him too much.

“Lena?” Jeffrey prompted.

She cleared her throat, then answered, “Yes, sir.”

 

AS usual, Brad drove through town at exactly the speed limit. Lena tried to quell her impatience at the same time she tried to ignore Mark sitting in the back seat. Without looking, she knew that Mark was staring at her. Both she and Jeffrey had agreed that it would be best to let his father deal with telling the boy his mother would probably be dead before the end of the day, but sitting there in the car with Mark less than two feet behind her, Lena felt like she was doing something wrong. Even with the safety guard between the front and back seats, she felt like Mark might come through the fence and grab her, demanding to know what was going on.

For Mark’s part, whatever medication the doctor had given him last night seemed to work. He was back to his usual surly self, standing too close to Lena when she cuffed him, making a suggestive noise as she led him to the car. Lena wondered what had brought the change. Mark had seemed nearly catatonic the day before.

“It sure is hot out,” Brad said, taking a left off of Main Street.

“I know,” Lena agreed, wanting to keep up the small talk. “It’s hotter now than it was last year.”

“That’s the truth,” Brad answered. “I remember when I was little, it didn’t seem like it ever got this hot.”

“Me, neither,” Lena said.

“Didn’t even have an air conditioner until I was twelve.”

“We got ours when I was fifteen,” she told him, allowing a smile at the memory. Lena and Sibyl had stood in front of the little unit until their faces had felt like they were frozen in place.

“We used to beg my daddy to turn the hose on out in the yard,” Brad said, giving a little laugh. “I remember once when my cousin Bennie came over—”

Mark kicked at the guard between the seats, saying, “Shut the fuck up.”

Brad slammed on the brakes and turned around. “You do that again and we’re gonna have to have us a talk.”

Lena had never heard Brad threaten anyone, and she was surprised to see that he had it in him. For the first time, she let herself see that Brad actually didn’t seem to like Mark Patterson.

“Chill, John Boy,” Mark said.

Lena let herself glance back at Mark, and he licked his tongue out suggestively. She turned back around, staring out the front window, trying not to let him know that he had gotten to her.

The car lurched a bit as it moved forward, and Brad was quiet for the rest of the trip. Lena directed him toward the Patterson trailer by pointing with her finger instead of giving him verbal directions. She tried to let herself think that Mark was not in the back seat, but every few minutes she would remember, and it was almost like she could feel his breath on her neck.

“This is it,” Lena said, indicating the trailer. She was out of the car before Brad had come to a complete stop. Her thigh muscles protested as she moved, and she cursed Hank again for making her run that morning.

Brad opened the back door, saying, “You gonna behave now?”

Mark took his time getting out of the car. When he stood, he was several inches shorter than Brad. He said something to the young patrolman that Lena could not hear. Whatever it was, it served to embarrass Brad, because his face turned completely red.

“Watch your mouth,” Brad said, but there was no real threat to his tone, only what could be called shock. Brad grabbed the handcuffs around Mark’s wrists and pulled him toward the trailer.

At the front door, Lena pulled Mark’s keys out of her pocket. They had confiscated his things when he was arrested. She guessed that a key to the door would be on the ring.

“It’s the third one,” Mark said. “The one with the green rim.” He smiled at Brad suggestively. “Rim, rimming, rim.”

Brad’s jaw worked, and he stared at the door as if he could open it with his mind.

Lena found the key and turned it in the lock. A breeze of cold air came from the trailer when she opened the door.

Mark stood in the doorway for just a second, his eyes closed, inhaling the scent of lilacs that greeted them.

“Come on,” Brad said, pushing the boy inside.

Lena shot Brad a questioning look, wondering what had gotten into him. Brad was usually the most docile person in the world.

“Take the cuffs off him,” Lena said.

Brad shook his head no. “We shouldn’t do that.”

Lena crossed her arms. “How’s he supposed to bathe and get dressed with cuffs on?”

Mark gave Brad a wink. “You could stay with me, officer. Help scrub my back.”

Before Lena knew what she was doing, she popped Mark on the back of the head. “Stop that,” she told him, angry that he was making Brad so uncomfortable. She told Brad, “Why don’t you watch the back of the trailer in case he tries to sneak out?”

Brad seemed relieved by this suggestion, and left without another word.

“What did you say to him?” she demanded.

“Just offered to help him relieve some of that stress he seems to have.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lena breathed. “Why would you do that to him?”

“Why not?” Mark shrugged.

Lena took out her handcuff key and motioned him over. He put the cuffs tight to his crotch so she would have to touch him to work the key.

“Hands out, Mark,” Lena ordered.

He sighed dramatically, but did as he was told. “You like being chained up?” he asked.

“I’ll give you ten minutes in the shower,” she told him, releasing the cuffs. “If I have to come in after you, I won’t be nice about it.”

“Mmm…,” Mark said, drawing out the sound. “Sounds tasty.”

Lena clipped the handcuffs onto the back of her belt. “Ten minutes,” she said, wondering if this was how Hank had felt this morning, ordering her around. She walked over to the couch and picked up a magazine before sitting down. Mark stood in the kitchen, watching her for what seemed like a full minute before he went back to his room. A couple of minutes later, she heard water running in the shower. Lena closed the magazine, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief.

She stood from the couch, holding on to the mantel as she stretched out her quads. Her legs hurting this much after what a year ago would have amounted to a light run was beginning to piss her off. She was stronger than this. There was no way she could be so out of shape.

Lena picked up a framed photograph of Mark and Lacey standing in front of a nondescript roller coaster. Both children were smiling, and Mark’s arm was thrown around Lacey’s shoulders. In turn, she had her hand around his waist. They looked about three years younger than they were now. They looked happy.

“That was at Six Flags,” Mark said.

Lena tried not to show he had startled her. Mark was standing about three feet away from her, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Get dressed,” she said.

He pressed his lips together in a lazy smile, and she felt like an idiot for not checking his room first for contraband.

“What are you on?” she asked him.

“Cloud nine,” he smiled, dropping onto the couch.

“Mark,” Lena said, “Get up. Get dressed.”

He stared at her, his lips slightly parted.

She asked, “What?”

He kept staring for just a second more, then asked, “What did it feel like?”

“What did what feel like?”

He looked down at her hands, and she crossed her arms so that he could not see the scars. She shook her head. “No.”

“My dad told me what happened.”

“I’m sure he took great pleasure in it.”

Mark frowned. “He didn’t, actually. Teddy doesn’t get off on that kind of thing.” He must have noticed Lena’s surprise, because he said, “Old Ted’s a straight arrow, now. Very vanilla.”

Lena turned back to the photograph. “Go get dressed, Mark. We don’t have time for this.”

“You tell me your secrets and I’ll tell you mine.”

Lena laughed. “You watch too many movies.”

“I’m serious.”

“I don’t think so, Mark.”

She heard a lighter click several times, and turned around to see Mark lighting a joint.

“Put that out,” she told him.

He inhaled deeply, not obeying.

He said, “Don’t you want to know what happened?”

“I want you to get dressed so that you can go see your mother.”

He smiled, making himself comfortable on the couch. “I really thought you were going to pull that trigger the other night.”

Without thinking, Lena sat at the opposite end of the couch. “You were watching me?” she asked, not feeling violated so much as caught.

He nodded, taking a long hit off the joint.

“Where were you?”

“By the shed,” he told her. “I thought you were going to run right over it.”

Lena felt a flush of shame.

“That man was beside the house. I thought he saw me, but he was watching you.” Mark blew on the tip of the joint. “He’s your father?”

“Uncle,” she told him.

Mark took another hit on the joint, holding in the smoke for a few beats. He exhaled slowly, then asked, “How’d it feel, holding that gun in your mouth?”

“Wrong,” she said, trying to recover. “That’s why I didn’t do it.”

“No. Being raped,” he said. “How’d it feel?”

Lena looked around the room, wondering why she was having this conversation with this kid.

“Bad,” she said, then shrugged. “Just…not good.”

He choked on a laugh. “I guess so.”

“No,” Lena said, then, wanting to get back in charge of the conversation, she said, “Why don’t you tell me what happened, Mark?”

“Have you had sex yet?”

She didn’t like the way he said “yet” as if it was something inevitable. “That’s not really any of your business,” she told him, amazed that she was able to talk about it so casually. For the first time in a while, Lena felt in control of herself and her emotions. She felt strong, and capable of handling this kid. In light of the fact that just a day ago she had tried to kill herself, this came as somewhat of a shock to her.

Lena said, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“My mom’s gonna die,” he said. “You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she told him, looking down at her hands because she did not want him to read the truth in her face. “Is that what you want to talk about, your mom?”

He did not respond.

“Mark,” Lena said. “Do you know where your sister is?”

He stared at her, his eyes watering. She was struck again by how much of a child he still was.

He said, “We’re a lot alike, you know?”

“In what way?”

“In here,” he said, putting his hand over his chest. “How did it feel being raped?”

She shook her head, not letting him distract her. “How are we alike, Mark? Has somebody hurt you?”

Something flashed in his eyes, and for just a moment she could see that he was in a tremendous amount of pain. Lena’s heart went out to him, and she felt something akin to a maternal urge to take care of Mark Patterson, even if she could not completely take care of herself.

She asked, “Who hurt you, Mark?”

He propped his foot up on the coffee table. “Why are you a cop?”

“Because I want to help people,” she told him, though that was no longer entirely true. “Let me help you. Tell me what happened.”

He shook his head over this. “How did it feel?” he asked again. “When you were being raped. What did that feel like?”

“Tell me why you want to know and I’ll tell you.”

He sucked on the joint, finishing it. He looked around for somewhere to put the butt, and Lena slid a plate across the coffee table for him.

He sat up, putting his elbows on his knees. “I wonder sometimes why people do things.”

“I do, too,” she said. “For instance, why would Jenny want to kill you?”

He waved this off. “She wasn’t going to kill me.”

“Is that why you pissed yourself?”

He laughed. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

“Why’d she do it, Mark?”

“She thought she could stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop me?” he asked, as if Lena might actually know the answer.

“Stop you from what?” She waited for him to answer, and when he didn’t she tried, “Tell me about that party with Carson and the other boys.”

He scowled. “Carson’s a pussy.”

“Why’d you make Jenny sleep with them?”

“I didn’t make her do shit,” he spat out. “She wanted to do that. She was trying to make me jealous, showing me it didn’t mean anything.”

“Didn’t hurt you got her drunk, either.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, waving her off.

“What did Jenny think she could stop, Mark?” Lena asked. “That night at Skatie’s. What did she think she could stop?”

Mark twisted his lips to the side, as if he might tell her, then seemed to change his mind. He asked, “You think you’ll find my sister?”

“Do you know where she is?”

He looked down, and she wondered if he knew where Lacey was or if he was feeling guilty for not knowing.

Lena sat back, her arms crossed, waiting for him to say what he needed to say.

“I feel like sometimes I’m not even real,” he said. “Like maybe I’m in the room, and maybe I’m breathing the air, but nobody really sees me.” He rubbed his eyes. “Then I think maybe if I’m not really here, that I need to be someplace else. Like, maybe I should just go ahead and pull the trigger, you know?”

Lena nodded, because she did know.

“What made you stop?” he asked her. “Why didn’t you pull the trigger?”

She told him the truth about the gun, but not about the pills. “I thought about my partner finding me in the morning, and I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Do you believe in God?”

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “Do you?”

He shook his head no.

“Is that why you stopped going to church?”

He looked at her, angry. “Don’t be a cop with me.”

“I am a cop, Mark.” Lena kept her tone even, not matching his anger. She reached out and put her hand on his arm. “I want to know what happened. Why did Jenny want to kill you?”

He sighed, slouching against the pillows. “She was such a sweet kid,” he said. “I really cared about her.”

“I know you did.”

“Do you?” he asked. “I mean, do you really understand what it means to care about somebody?”

Lena thought of Sibyl when she said, “Yes, I do.”

“Not me,” he said. “I mean, before Jenny. I just didn’t know what it meant to care like that.”

“You love your mother.”

He laughed, a hollow sound that vibrated in his chest. “She’s going to die soon, isn’t she?”

Lena pressed her lips together.

“I feel it,” he said, putting his hand over his heart. “I felt it this morning, somehow, like she wasn’t going to last much longer, like she wanted to let go.” He started to cry. “It’s this connection, you know? Like, I can feel what she feels.” He turned to her suddenly, a bit of desperation in his tone. “Did you know when your sister died?”

“Yes,” Lena lied. At the time, she had been on her way back from Macon and had no idea that something bad had happened. “I could feel it here,” she said, putting her hand to her chest.

“Then you know,” he said. “You know what that emptiness feels like.”

Lena nodded, not saying more.

Mark looked away, then closed his eyes. She studied his profile, his sharp nose and squared jaw. Tears rolled down his cheeks and fell onto his chest.

“The first time,” Mark began, his voice low, “I guess it was at Thanksgiving.”

Lena kept her mouth closed, letting him take his time.

“Lacey and Jenny were down the hall in Lacey’s room, and I wanted to borrow one of her CDs.” He sighed, his chest rising and falling with the sound. “She started yelling at me, all mad and shit. I dunno. I guess Mama heard her yelling and came in and told us to stop.”

Lena felt her heart rate accelerate, and said a small prayer to whoever was listening that Brad would not pick now to come back into the trailer. She tried to do the math and figure out how much time had passed since he left, but since she dared not look at her watch, Lena wasn’t sure.

“Lacey turned up the radio in her room really loud,” he said. “Mama let her. It’s always been like that. She was always the favorite.” He shook his head. “Lacey’s sweet underneath, you know? Maybe she’s spoiled, but she’s sweet underneath. She has a good heart, just like Mama.”

Lena waited, counting to twenty-five before Mark started speaking again.

“She came into my room a little later,” he said. “I guess she knew I was still pissed off. Wanted to smooth things over. She was always like that, trying to make peace. I guess that’s why so many people liked her, because she was good like that.” A slight smile came to his lips, but he kept his eyes closed. “She just put her hand around the back of my neck, and then we started kissing for some reason. I mean, just kissing real deep for a long time.”

Lena tried to remember what Jeffrey had said about not letting her personal feelings ruin a confession, but the thought of Mark Patterson kissing his baby sister made her stomach roll. She wanted to say something, to stop him so that she would not go through the rest of her life knowing this story, but she knew that she could not.

“I don’t know how the rest of it happened,” Mark said. “You know, we were kissing, and then she started rubbing me, and it felt so good.” He looked at her, asking for her approval. “I know it was wrong, okay? It just felt so good. I didn’t want to stop.”

Lena nodded, trying to control her expression. She doubted very seriously that Lacey Patterson had seduced her brother. Saying the victim had “asked for it” was a common theme among sexual predators.

“I can tell you don’t understand,” he said. “But you don’t know what it’s like. My dad is so fucking hard on me.” He slammed his fist into his leg. “He just never lets up on me. Ever.”

“I know,” Lena told him, reaching out, making herself touch his arm. “I understand that part, Mark. I really do.”

His expression softened, and he said, “I didn’t make her do it.”

“I believe you.”

“She came on to me first,” he said. “She was the one who came into my room. She was the one who started kissing me, who started touching me.”

Lena nodded because that was all that she could do.

“She was so wet for me. I just…” He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, as if to bring back the memory. “It felt so right being inside of her. And she wanted me. I could tell she wanted me. The way she put her hand on the back of my neck, and pulled me closer to her, deeper.”

Lena swallowed back bile.

“Touching her and being with her and inside of her,” Mark said. “I just felt complete, you know? Like things were finally right.” He put his hand over his eyes. “She was so good at it. I mean, where did she learn to be so damn good at it?”

He seemed to want an honest answer, but Lena could not give him one.

“I mean, I look at my dad,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not like he knows anything.”

Lena spoke without thinking. “Your dad was sleeping with her, too?”

“Well, duh,” he said, as if she were stupid.

Lena put her hand to her stomach, thinking about poor Lacey Patterson, and what hell she must have been through.

She said, “Tell me about Jenny.”

Mark gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah, Jenny,” he said. “I had been with her a couple of times before, like I told you.” He paused. “She was sweet. She was all those things I told you.”

“She seemed like a good friend.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, a bit of derision slipping into his tone. “She was a good friend until she caught us.”

“Is that why she pointed the gun at you?”

“I guess part of it was that,” he said. “Then, you know, maybe she just wanted it to stop. She said that a lot, that she just wanted it to stop.”

“Was she jealous?”

He nodded slowly. “It hurt her to see it.”

“She saw you together?”

He nodded again, the same slow movement. “We were in my bed, and she and Lacey came home from school.”

Lena felt her heart stop midbeat. She opened her mouth to ask for a clarification, then closed it. She did not want to know. If she could have moved her body, she would have run from the room, covering her ears so that she could not hear any more. She couldn’t move, though, and she sat motionless on the couch, watching Mark the way she would watch a car wreck. “We were together, you know? I guess this was around Christmastime, right before they went on that stupid retreat.” He threw his hand into the air. “Mama let me stay home from school. We had the whole day together.” He smiled. “She lit some candles, and we took a long bath, and then we made love.”

Lena was aware that she had stopped breathing.

“I guess we lost track of time,” Mark said, giving a pitiful laugh. “Lacey and Jenny walked right into my room, and that was it.”

Lena put her hand to her mouth to keep herself from speaking.

“Jenny loved my mom. I mean, it was complicated. Maybe it’s better that Jenny’s not around to watch Mama die. I think that would’ve killed her.”

“Right,” Lena managed.

“I know what you think, but she loved me, man. It felt so good to know that she loved me. It was like Lacey was always the favorite, but then she came to me, and I was the one. I was the one she loved most.” Mark started to cry again. Before Lena knew what was happening, he had buried his face in her neck.

Lena forced the word, “Mark,” out of her mouth, trying to push him away from her.

“Don’t,” he whispered, and his wet lips against her flesh made her want to vomit.

“Mark, no,” she said. When he didn’t move, Lena pushed him away as hard as she could. “Get away from me!” she yelled.

From the way he was looking at her, she imagined that every ounce of disgust she was feeling was written all over her face.

“Mark—”

“Bitch,” he said, standing. “You fucking bitch!”

“Mark—”

The door popped open, and Brad stood there, his hand on the butt of his gun. Lena motioned him back as Mark stepped toward her.

Mark said, “I thought you would understand.”

“I do,” she told him, feeling panicked. “I do understand, Mark.”

“Fucking bitch,” he hissed. “You don’t understand shit.”

“Mark—”

He closed the distance between them in two steps, grabbing her hand and holding it up between them. “I thought you understood,” he said, and she knew he meant her scars. “I thought you knew because you’d been there, man. You know what it’s like. I know you do. You just won’t fucking admit it because you’re a coward.”

Lena opened her mouth, but could not speak.

“Hey,” Brad said, taking Mark’s arm.

“Get away from me, faggot,” Mark screamed, yanking his arm out of Brad’s grasp. He pointed an accusatory finger at Lena, saying through clenched teeth, “You tricked me. You’re all alike, goddamn it. She was right. You’re all so weak. You never do the right thing.”

Lena cleared her throat, trying, “Mark—”

Mark walked toward the hallway, his footsteps so heavy that the trailer shook.

“What the heck was that about?” Brad asked, his hand still resting on his gun.

Lena shook her head, unable to speak for just a moment.

“Are you okay?” Brad asked, going to the couch. He put his hand on her arm and she did not pull away.

“I can’t believe…” Lena began, not knowing exactly what to say.

Brad sat beside her, taking her hand. “Lena?” he asked, patting her hand. “Talk to me.”

She shook her head, taking back her hand. “He’s just a kid,” she said.

“A nasty kid,” Brad told her. “Sometimes I wonder how they can get that way. When I was his age, I barely even knew what sex was. I thought a good time on a date was getting a kiss at the end.”

Lena nodded, zoning out as he talked about his idyllic teen years.

“I just wonder,” Brad said. “What makes them like that? What’s changed?”

“Their parents,” Lena said, but she knew that wasn’t right. She pushed her hair back behind her ear, trying to suppress the shock she was still feeling. She looked at her watch, wondering if she should go get Mark. He had been gone a while.

“What did he mean?” Brad asked. “Wasn’t that the same stuff Jenny was saying before?”

Lena finally managed to focus on the conversation. “Before when?” she asked.

“In the parking lot,” Brad said. “You know, when she said adults never do the right thing.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Lena breathed, feeling all the air going out of her lungs. She jumped up from the couch and started off down the hall, Brad close behind her.

“Mark?” she yelled, knocking on the only closed door. She tried the handle, but it was locked.

“Dammit,” Lena hissed, jamming her shoulder against the door. It would not budge. She motioned to Brad. “Kick it in.”

He braced himself against the other side of the hall and punched his foot into the door. Unfortunately, the door was hollow at the center, and Brad’s foot stuck in the splintered wood. He used Lena for leverage, pulling his foot out of the hole. She leaned down, looking into the room, trying to find Mark through the narrow opening.

“Oh, God,” Lena gasped, stepping back to kick at the hole Brad had made. He joined in, and between them they managed to enlarge the opening enough for Lena to slip through. The splintered wood tore at her arms and face, but she barely noticed the pain as she tried to get into the room.

“Mark,” she said, her voice high with panic. “Hold on, Mark. Hold on.”

Brad pushed her from behind, and she fell into the room. Mark had hanged himself from a rod mounted high in the closet. The ceiling of the trailer was not high, and his feet dragged the ground. Still, the belt around his neck seemed to be doing the trick. His face was blue, his tongue protruding slightly. She grabbed his legs, holding him up to take some of the stress off his neck.

“Goddamn it, Brad,” she cursed. “Get in here.”

Brad finally managed to bust the door open wide enough to squeeze through, and he used his pocket knife to cut the belt while Lena held Mark’s legs. It took forever for the knife to cut through the thick leather, and Lena felt her arms start to shake from holding Mark up for so long.

“No, no, no,” Lena cried until Mark fell to the ground. She put her ear to his chest, trying to make out a heartbeat. A few seconds passed, then she finally heard a telltale thump, followed by another stronger one.

“Is he okay?” Brad asked, loosening the belt from Mark’s neck.

Lena nodded, pulling a blanket off the bed. She wrapped it around Mark’s body, saying, “Call an ambulance.”