Page 51 of Auctioned to the Devil

Caleb noticing every sound.

Caleb watching every entrance.

“When we were kids, Abby would hide in my room when they started fighting.”

His voice is flat.

Too flat.

“She’d get under my bed. I’d climb under there with her.”

I don’t interrupt.

“She’d cry. I’d cover her ears so she couldn’t hear him yelling.”

My throat tightens.

“Caleb.”

“She used to ask why I didn’t stop him.”

“You were a child.”

“I was her big brother.”

“You were a child.”

His eyes meet mine.

I don’t look away. “How old were you?”

“First time I remember?” He thinks. “Eight.”

My chest hurts.

“You were eight years old.”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

“No eight-year-old should have to protect anyone from their father.”

“Didn’t change what was happening.”

“What happened when you got older?”

“I got bigger.”

There’s something dark in the way he says it.

“You fought him?”

“Eventually.”

“How old?”

“Sixteen the first time.”

“Did he stop?”