Every Bright and Broken Thing

Chapter Forty-Seven - Liam

A knock at the door interrupts us. Upstairs, Ezra has been in the shower for a long time already. Dad and Elaine sit on the sofa next to me, chatting quietly between themselves.

"I'll get it," I say.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Dad. It's fine. I can answer a door by myself."

He chuckles

Opening the front door, I come face to face with Lincoln. My eyes widen and my mouth drops open, but he speaks before I have the chance.

"Can we talk?" His face is drawn tight, eyes puffy.

I glance behind me, then, "Sure." Stepping out onto the front porch, I close the door. We walk out to the curb together and sit down on the side of the road. The brisk, evening air bites into my flesh.

"I promise I didn't know, Liam," Lincoln says, staring down at the curb. "What my dad did? I didn't know. Not any of it."

I nod, eyes on the pavement.

"He's going to jail," he says matter-of-factly. "I probably won't see him for a long time."

Does he expect me to feel bad about that? Frankly, I don't feel much at all about it. Besides, he probably won't go to jail. It was two years ago and it's my word against his. Victims never win when it comes to this stuff.

Lincoln turns to me, tears in his eyes and my heart breaks inside of my chest. A sharp pain courses through my body, through every cut and every bruise. "I should've known what happened when things fell apart between us."

"It's not your fault," I say.

"But it is. Liam, I knew what he was."

"What are you talking about, Link?"

He rolls his head back and stares up at the night sky, his breath forming a cloud above him. "Liam, you're not the only one he hurt."

"Link..."

"He raped me too."

The revelation slams into me with all the force of a freight train and all I can manage is a choked, "What?" This man, Bill Everett, my best friend's dad, a member of my father's church – this is the kind of man he is? The kind of man who would touch his own son and knowingly – willingly – hurt him?

"Growing up, he always had a drinking problem. He always had a self-control problem too. He forced himself on Mom a lot. And when Mom left, there was no one else to force himself on. So, he started... using me."

Lincoln breaks down and buries his face in his hands. His long brown hair hangs in front of his face. Stunned speechless, I pull him close to me and we sit there as I give him space to let it all out. And then I realize that this whole thing was never just about me. What was broken between Lincoln and I – the friendship that I needed – was never just about me. It was about him too. We needed each other. I pull him close because now I feel guilty for not being there to protect him like I wished he was for me.

"I'm sorry, Link," I say through tears of my own. I don't know what else to say. Are there words strong enough to cover the disaster that echoes between us?

"Why didn't you tell me when it happened?" he asks, staring at me with pain in his eyes.

"I– I thought I was protecting you. I knew if I told you what he did to me, it would... steal your dad from you. And I couldn't be the one to do that. I... couldn't steal who he was from you. I couldn't..."

After a few minutes, he sits up straight and, wiping his eyes and the snot from his nose on his sleeve, turns to me. "The sickness in his heart stole him from me a long time ago. He was never a father," he spits, his face twisted with the grief and the regret. "He's gonna go to jail. And that's a promise. I'll testify with you. He'll never hurt anyone else again."

"But where will you go?"

"My grandparents live not too far from here. I've already called them. They said I can stay with them."

"Why don't you stay with us?" I offer.

He smiles. "I can't do that to you guys. Not now. You need to be a family for a while."

I start to protest, but I know he's right.

Standing to his feet, Lincoln looks down at me. "Well, hey. Maybe we can finally be friends again."

"Of course, we can, Link." I pull him into a hug. I almost can't believe that I'm here right now. I've dreamed about this moment for almost two years. Now, here we are.

And the melody in the middle of the noise is becoming a little clearer.