The end of the day soon rolls around and I head down the steps with Izzy and Ricky. We make it to the car park and split off different directions.
I begin walking down the path to head home when Josiah steps in my way.
“Come on, we’re going to the pack house.” He offers me a spare helmet for his motorbike.
“I am going home,” I step around him but his hand shoots out to stop me.
“We need to speak about that bruise Cleo,” his tone is firm.
“We have spoken about it. I told you I fell and I am fine. That is all I have to say about it.” I refuse to look up at Josiah.
Josiah moves his arm, “okay.” I look at him in surprise and he still offers me his helmet. “Let’s go speak to your father then.”
“What?!” I grab hold of his arm in desperation.
“Clearly you are not going to tell me the truth so I will ask your father what he knows about it.” Josiah shrugs before beginning to turn away.
“Wait. No,” I hold his arm tighter. “Please. We cannot mention this to my father.”
Josiah turns back to me with concern. “Then tell me the truth.”
I glance around us, “not here.”
Josiah offers me the helmet once more and I take it this time. We climb onto his motorbike before he pulls away.
-
I expect Josiah to take me to the packhouse but instead he heads into the hillside. We make it up the bay which overhangs the territory below. Josiah leads me to the edge and sits down. I sit down beside him and take in the view.
“So?” He presses after a minute of silence.
I swallow nervously and look around. “After my mother died, my grandmother took me in. My father was incapable of caring for me.”
Josiah nods at me to continue when I glance at him.
“When my grandmother died last year I was forced to live with my father.” I look down at my hands now. “He is still incapable of caring for me.”
“Are you saying your father is doing this to you?” Josiah sounds angry but I cannot bring myself to meet his eyes.
I turn away and bite my lip instead. The first tear drips free. Josiah turns my face toward his.
“I need to hear you say it Cleo,” Josiah sounds angry but his touch is soft.
“Yes. My father hit me.” The words feel like a weight being lifted off my shoulders.
“Is this the first time?” Josiah asks softly.
I shake my head in response before the tears burst out. Sobs wrack my throat and Josiah pulls me into his chest.
“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” He hugs me to him and softly strokes a hand over my hair. “You are safe.”
After embarrassing myself enough I pull away and clean my face up.
“I am ready to go home now,” I tell Josiah and stand.
“I will come with you to collect your belongings,” Josiah tells me.
“What?”
“You are coming to stay at the packhouse,” Josiah tells me with finality. He holds the helmet toward me again. “I am not letting you go back to your father’s house so he can hurt you again.” When I still refuse to move Josiah sighs. “Cleo, you either come with me to the packhouse willingly or I will have your father arrested and trialed. You will end up at the packhouse anyway.”
I narrow my eyes at him before snatching the helmet from his hand. “Fine.”
-
My stomach drops out as we stand outside my father’s house. Josiah takes my hand in his before leading us up the driveway. I unlock the door and step inside first.
My father glances at me from his position on the couch but his eyes widen when Josiah steps in, still holding my hand. He swiftly stands out of his chair and bows his head.
“Beta,” my father looks up nervously.
“Cleo is coming to stay at the packhouse,” Josiah declares. The awkward atmosphere is suffocating so I pull on Josiahs hand and walk toward the stairs.
“Why? Is she your mate or something?” My father questions.
“No.” Is Josiah’s only answer before he follows me up the stairs. They creak as we walk up and shame slams into my when we reach my room. I stop before my door.
“Could you just wait here for me?” I ask before opening my room and slipping inside. I try to shut the door but Josiah’s foot stops me. He pushes the door open.