Cut. Part 12

"Yes. His blanket. The one in the living room." It was the deepest cut yet. I was still unshaken.

"I'm sure he would want you to have it. Persephone, Ken is leaving you his sister's piano."

I was broken.

We finally got to go back to see Ken over an hour later. The woman had returned from getting coffee and had gone to see her own patient.

He wasn't awake when the doctor drew back the curtain to his little corner of the ICU. His mouth was covered with an oxygen mask. There were tubes everywhere.

I sat down in the chair next to his bed and took his hand.

"Ken? I don't know if you can hear me."

"He can, sweet pea. Tell him what you need to say."

I need to tell him thank you. I need to tell him I wouldn't have lived this long without him. I need to tell him that he can't go. I can't do this alone. I need to tell him I'm scared. I need to tell him I wouldn't know who John Irving was if it weren't for him. I need to tell him...

"Ken, it's Persephone. I love you."

James and I waited. I sat, holding Ken's hand, and James stood behind me. A nurse came by and looked at all the machines. She made a note in Ken's chart and moved on to the next bed.

James moved to the other side. He laid his hand on Ken's shoulder.

"Your tour is almost over, old friend. You can go home." The steady beat of the heartrate monitor continued. "Persephone, you need to let him go."

"No. I want my friend. Please, James. Please give me back my friend." I was using the only words I could find. Words I stole from Ken's favorite author.

"Sweet pea, he will always be with you."

"Ken..." I looked up at James. "I can't do it. I just can't."

"Yes, you can, darlin'. He won't go until he knows you're okay."

I wanted to be selfish. I wanted to stay by that bed, holding his hand. I wanted the world to stop. I wanted to hear him call me a pup again, tell me what page we left off on, and that he loved me. But most of all, I wanted his pain to be over.

"Thank you, Ken. I love you. It's okay."

It felt like his fingers curled around mine and squeezed, if only for a moment. The rhythmic ticks and bleeps stopped. There was only the continuous single bleat from the heart monitor. The nurse came over and turned it off.

She checked his pulse for the sake of formality and patted my arm. "I am so sorry, honey. Please take your time."

I looked at James. This wasn't it, was it? He wasn't really gone? The tears pouring down his face answered my questions.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't stand. I couldn't feel anything except the hurt. Something was sitting on my chest. Something was clawing at my heart. There was something burrowing through my brain.

"Persephone, he loved you so much." He leaned down and kissed Ken's forehead. "I love you, my friend. You will be missed. You were one of the good ones."

"I can't let go, James. I just can't."

"Yes, you can. Come on, sweet pea. It's going to be okay."

James led me out of the ICU, through the hallways and out to the car. We didn't talk on the way home. The house was empty and awful. It felt like someone had come in and moved everything a few inches off center.

I went to my bedroom as James started a pot of coffee. The piano was waiting for me. I played 'Amazing Grace' and heard James crying in the kitchen. Later, we would comfort each other. Tonight, we wrapped ourselves in grief for our lost friend.

James went to the hospital the next morning to take care of the paperwork and arrangements. It seemed so cold and formal. I pretended to be asleep when he left. I was still lying in bed, staring at the sun coming through the window when I heard the doorbell. I a.s.sumed it was Maggie. I had texted her when we got home but told her I didn't feel like talking. I would call her later. I didn't even bother looking out the window before answering the door.

I was unprepared to see my father standing there.

"Well, young lady, I'm a.s.suming you're quite proud of yourself? Little stunt you pulled with your mom? She called me in hysterics last night. I took the red eye in from Alabama. Now you go get your stuff and get your a.s.s in the car." He made a grab for my arm. I pulled away and backed a few steps into the house.

Who was I to stand up to him? You are the bada.s.s in training. The Marine by proxy.

I didn't have any strength left to fight. You are wounded, but you will heal.

I was nothing. He loved you so much, sweet pea.

Those voices, they would always be a part of me. No matter where I went, they would go with me. And no matter what enemy I was facing, there would always be two Marines standing guard behind me. "Oorah."

"Excuse me? I told you to move your a.s.s."

"Go to h.e.l.l." He opened his mouth to say something. "No, shut up and listen. You are a worthless piece of s.h.i.+t. If you ever, ever come near me or anyone I care about ever again, I will tell everyone and anyone who will listen exactly who you are and what you do. Do you understand me?"

He laughed. "Honestly, Persephone, who's going to believe-"

"It will only take one, Dad. One person who even thinks there's a possibility it might be true and everything is over for you. You don't get to be in control anymore. You don't get to hurt me. Get the h.e.l.l out of my life. You are nothing to me. Nothing, do you understand?" I was yelling by now, walking towards him, backing him down the driveway.

"Persephone, if you don't get in this car right now, you are never welcome to my home again. Never. You won't get a dime from us. We will no longer have a daughter. Is that what you want?"

It was my turn to laugh. "More than you will ever know."

"Fine. To h.e.l.l with you then, you little ungrateful b.i.t.c.h."

There were so many things I wanted to say. So many vile, disgusting things I could have hurled at him. But it was enough to see him get in his car and drive away.

Oorah, kiddo, oorah.

EPILOGUE.

I never went back to my mother and father's house. James stayed with me at Ken's until it was time for me to leave for college. Together, we loaded my small car and the back of his truck with clothes and dorm furnis.h.i.+ngs. There were students there to help me carry everything to my room, so he didn't have to. We said our goodbyes in the parking lot.

"Ken would have been so proud of you."

I tried hard not to cry but didn't succeed.

I graduated with my degree in counseling and immediately found a job at a crisis center two blocks from the apartment I lived in alone. It was there I met Adam. After our third date, I told him everything-why there were scars all over my body, why he would most likely never meet my parents, and, most importantly, about Ken. Adam didn't say a word while I talked. He held my hand and listened.

Finally, when I took a breath, he gently turned my wrist over and kissed the scars there. "I know I can't heal these, but can I help you try?"

We were married six months later at a small bed and breakfast in Eureka Springs. It wasn't fancy, but neither were we. James stood by my side, and when the minister asked who gives this woman, he answered, "I do."

Adam and I put off going to Springfield as long as we could, claiming busy schedules and clients who needed us. I didn't feel particularly bad about this. Mom could have driven south just as easily.

A few months before our two-year anniversary, Mom called, hysterical. Dad was in the hospital, ma.s.sive heart attack. I didn't want to go. There was nothing I could do. Nothing I wanted to do. It took Adam close to three hours to convince me I needed, for my own sake, to go say goodbye. It was the first time we had ever fought.

We packed our overnight bags and got on the road. He died before we got there. I would like to say I cried, but I didn't.

Three years later, our son was born. Austin James. His favorite blanket is an old Marine Corps fleece that still smells like vanilla and sandalwood.

THANK YOU.

First and foremost I want to thank my family. My amazing husband and daughter, Dana and Hannah, who supported and believed in me every step of the way. You two are my everything, and I love you.

I have two sisters, a brother, two brothers-in-law, a sister-in-law, two nephews, and a niece (Jenn, Tom, Chelsea, Jeff, Kyle, Erin, Brady, TJ, and Harper) all within a fifteen minute drive. The close proximity may drive us all to drink sometimes, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I couldn't have done this without all of you.

And my mom and dad, Charley and Lisa Slavens. You two taught me what being a real hero means. Your love, compa.s.sion, and unwavering support mean more than I will ever be able to find words to express.

Thank you to my ever-patient editors, Evangeline Jennings and Lucy Middlema.s.s. They deserve sainthood after putting up with me during this process. If you liked the book, thank them. If you didn't, blame me. It means I didn't take their advice when I should have.

And finally, thank you. Thank you for giving me a little piece of your time and letting me share Persephone's story with you. You are the reason I write.

Layla Harding, June 2015.

In 2013, approximately 679,000 children were victims of abuse.

A portion of the proceeds from this book will be donated to The Child Advocacy Center in Springfield, Missouri. For more information, please visit their website at www.childadvocacycenter.org COMING SOON FROM PANKHEARST.

FIRST GIRL ON THE MOON.

LUCY MIDDLEMa.s.s & EVANGELINE JENNINGS.

A Young Adult Collection.

Brothers and sisters.

Fathers and daughters First loves Second thoughts.

Elizabeth is furious Felicity isn't happy Magda's family won't answer the phone.

Isobel is smitten Vivienne is going to f.u.c.k her sister's boyfriend And me-the girl without a name? I'm all about Alex.

And Alex is the first girl on the Moon.

ALSO AVAILABLE FROM PANKHEARST.

SINGLES CLUB.

Niagara by Evangeline Jennings (January).

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End Credits by Simon Paul Wilson (February) getbook.at/EndCredits Three by Pete Marchetto (March).

getbook.at/Three Mothers by Lucy Middlema.s.s (April).

getbook.at/Mothers No Exit by Dan Holloway (May) getbook.at/NoExit.

Bewitched by Kate Garrett (June) getbook.at/Bewitched Valentina by Evangeline Jennings (July) getbook.at/Valentina Mini by Tee Tyson (August) getbook.at/Mini Convertible by Jane Bradley and Lucy Middlema.s.s (September).

getbook.at/Convertible Frontier by Miriam Vaswani (October) getbook.at/Frontier Suck by Charlotte Aspin (November) getbook.at/Suck No Christmas by Evangeline Jennings (December).

getbook.at/NoXmas St Rage by Karen Eisenbrey (January 2015).

getbook.at/StRage The Wrong Guy by Pat Black (February 2015) getbook.at/WrongGuy Wilfrid Moore's Eventful Day by Rosie Gailor (March 2015) getbook.at/Wilfrid In The Jungle You Must Wait by Jeremy Johnson (April 2015).

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HEATHERS.