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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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DEAN HAD PICKED OUT A MOTEL AND LEFT SAM ALONE TO WATCH PORN WHILE THEY WENT TO PARK THE IMPALA. When they got in the car, the silence was loud enough for Raven to know that something happened last night and she hoped that she didn't spill anything to Dean. The guilt of not telling either of them was starting to get to her and she wasn't sure why. Raven grew up keeping secrets from her stepmother but when they came out she couldn't take it back and things got heated in the household quickly.
Squirming in her spot, Raven turns her head to notice Dean focusing on the road with one hand on the wheel and the other on the resting on the window, fiddling with his fingers. Pursing her lips together, she sighs, "By the awkward silence something probably happened last night an—"
Dean looks over at her with furrowed brows, "You seriously don't remember?"
"No, yes, uh-" Raven pauses and looks down at her hands, "I remember fragments and Dean, I really am sorry about everything."
"You didn't say anything about your dad, It's fine." Dean clutches the wheel harder and Raven doesn't fail to notice. Raven knew it was better to let everything out rather than have it sitting in the pit of her stomach, burning away with guilt and sorrow. She was better than that. Especially when Haley was around, she taught Raven to open up and if she could open up to her, then she could open up to Dean and Sam. The two brothers who've saved her and vice versa.
Raven shifts her gaze to Dean thinking of how to put her thoughts into words. Everything was jumbled in her mind, her thoughts clashing with each other. For some odd reason Raven was afraid of spilling everything and Dean's reaction. Her heart was beating quickly and she could hear her blood pumping. Raven begins to move her leg up and down and Dean notices, he looks from the road towards her and quirks an eyebrow, "Hey, you okay?"
"No," Raven breathes out. It was either now or never, and she couldn't live with herself if she didn't tell Dean anything. If there was one thing she knew about life was that, it repeats itself and this time, she wasn't going to let time tag along. "About what I said yesterday, with the publisher, umm, I was—"
"You don't have to say anything, Raven," Dean reassures. Raven bites down on her lip and shakes her head, "I have to."
"I was around nine years old, everything is still blurry from the night but there was a lot of yelling. Something about standing up for myself. I don't know, he was drunk as usual," Raven mutters the last part, remembering the smell of whiskey and vodka that lingered in his breath as he screamed at her. "Things escalated, I was pinned under him. He kept yelling at me to fight him but I was too scared, too weak to do anything. Next thing I know, he has a knife out, up close to my neck."
