I rubbed Tessa’s arm, pulling her tighter to my body to remind myself I wasn’t alone anymore. “Six months later, they said goodbye.”
Tessa took a deep breath, perhaps bracing herself, sensing the worst was yet to come.
“I convinced myself it was my fault,” I admitted, each word feeling like it was being dragged from somewhere deep inside me. “That my demeanor had been too somber, too damaged. So, at the next placement, I became the model foster child.” A bitter smile crossed my face. “I did chores unprompted, maintained perfect manners, followed every rule. But after a few months, they turned us away too. Claimed it was just part of the foster family process, but I knew better. Foster families were allowed to apply for adoption; they chose not to. Eight homes in six years, each one falling somewhere between awful and barely tolerable.” I swallowed. “Then came the worst placement.”
My voice dropped, the words feeling like gravel in my throat. “The one with a predator hiding behind a smile. The one who chose substances over basic human decency.”
Beside me, I heard Tessa’s sharp intake of breath, the soft rustle of the blanket as she shifted, wrapping her arm around my waist, like she was the one who needed the reminder that I’d made it out.
“Who weaponized our fear of separation to ensure our silence. I didn’t know then that his threats were empty, that he couldn’t actually separate us. That manipulation kept us there far longer than we should have been. Maybe if I’d reached out for help …”
I stilled and braced myself to reveal something I’d never wanted her to know. But if we were really doing this, she needed to know what I meant when I said I was damaged. That I’d always be damaged.
“Tessa, there’s something else I’ve never told you. Something I’m terrified to say out loud because …” I swallowed hard. “Because I don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
Or reject me.
“What is it?”
I laced her fingers with mine, memorizing how they fit together in case this was the last time she’d let me hold her hand.
“One night, that foster dad was beating Faith worse than ever before. I tried to stop him, got between them. For a minute, he turned on me instead. Which was what I’d wanted. But then he went back to Faith. He was high on something. I could tell because his eyes were wild, movements erratic. And I knew …” My voice cracked. “I knew I was watching my little sister get beaten to death.”
Tessa’s hand tightened, but she didn’t pull away. Her eyes held mine, steady and present, giving me strength to continue.
“When I picked the baseball bat up, I just wanted him to stop. But after that first hit …” I closed my eyes, the memory visceral. “I couldn’t stop. I saw every bruise he’d left on Faith, heard every scream, felt every terror she’d lived through. Blood sprayedacross the walls, across the dresser. By the time I stopped …” My voice dropped to a whisper. “There wasn’t much left of his face.”
I forced myself to look at Tessa, expecting horror, revulsion. Instead, I found tears in her eyes. Not of fear, but compassion. She released my hand and touched my cheek.
“That’s the darkness you’ve been carrying?” she asked softly.
“Ryker and the guys know. Told them one night after too many beers. They know what I did, what I’m capable of.” I turned my face into her palm, still amazed she hadn’t pulled away. “Telling someone you deliberately took a life … it changes things. Tests everything. But they didn’t run. Instead, they accepted me.” My body tightened, thinking of Knox. “That’s what made me bond with them like brothers.”
And why I cared so much about Knox. He was sitting in prison for murder while I walked free. Different circumstances, same deadly outcome. The guys stood by me when they learned my darkest truth, so how could I do any less for him?
“That darkness …” My voice roughened. “It’s still there, Tess. I wear the white coat now. Took an oath to do no harm. But if someone tried to hurt anyone I love …” I broke off, jaw clenching.
“You’d protect them,” she finished, her voice steady. “Like you protected Faith.”
The acceptance in her tone warmed my body. I’d hoped she might understand, like the guys did, but this was different. Here was a woman who’d been attacked herself by a man who overpowered her. Trying to now trust a man twice her size who’d not only admitted to killing a man in the past, but who’d admitted he was capable of doing it again.
Not just capable. The moment I’d learned about Eric Voss, my mind had gone to dark places with vivid, detailed fantasies of finding that piece of garbage and making him suffer. My medical oath meant nothing when I thought about what he’d done to her.
“Faith survived because of you,” she said. “You were just a kid, Blake. A kid protecting his baby sister the only way he could.”
I buried my face in her neck, breathing in her familiar scent. “Faith survived,” I murmured against her skin. “But then they separated us, pending the investigation. For months, I didn’t know if she was safe or if I’d ever see her again. When I was finally cleared …” I tightened my hold on Tessa. “It felt like something changed between us. There was this … distance that wasn’t there before.”
“Have you ever talked about it?”
I shook my head. “By the time we were allowed to resume talking, it was mostly surface-level stuff. I was too afraid to rock the boat, and after a while, that just became our norm. Still is.”
“So, you still talk to her?”
“Not as often as I’d like.”
“Maybe you should try to talk to her about it now?” Tess suggested.
I considered this. “Yeah … I guess if I learned anything from you coding in my ER, it’s to assume tomorrow is no guarantee.”
