Jazz: Vol 3 of the Still Waters Series

Chapter 25

When I moved in with Remmey, I only had a suitcase with me. Claire met me at the door like she knew I was coming. She opened the screen and took the suitcase from me, then stepped back out of the way and looked at Remmey. He was on the sofa talking to the baby when I walked in. It looked like he and the baby were just two old friends hanging out. I had never seen him so comfortable.

He picked the baby up and stood up when he saw me.

And my suitcase.

Our eyes locked, but neither of us spoke. I turned to Claire and she put her arm around me. I flinched and she looked into my eyes, silently asking if Papa beat me. I nodded. Claire looked back at Remmey again and then walked into the kitchen to pour salt into a glass and mix it with hot water. When she walked back out into the front room, she was holding the glass and nodded for me to follow her into the bathroom.

She looked back at Remmey, and then at the baby. He nodded and sat back down with her.

Claire waited while I unbuttoned my shirt. Her eyes grew bigger and bigger as more of my black and blue flesh appeared.

"What happened?" She whispered. They had never even beaten her like that. They definitely had never beaten me like that. Only Marguerite once, but that was for sleeping with one of Papa's married friends. Claire knew I hadn't done that.

"They were just...saying things...about you." I had my back to her as I continued to unbutton my shirt. "And I just...lost it. I went crazy and mother slapped me. Then Papa went crazy."

I took my blouse all the way off and heard Claire's breath catch in her throat when she saw the deep bloody gashes across my back. They were worse than she had ever seen. She never saw Marguerite after they beat her like this. I made sure of that.

"Claire, just pour it on quick." I braced myself for the sting of the salt and waited for her to pour.

But she didn't.

I heard the glass break behind me and when I turned around, Claire was...checked out. It was like she was asleep, but awake. Her eyes were open, but she wasn't moving. It looked like she wasn't breathing.

Just like the night Papa tried to force her baby out of her with Mother's knitting needles.

I screamed at the top of my lungs and Remmey came running with the baby in his arms. He didn't even knock. He just rushed through the door.

He looked at Claire and then looked at me. His eyes traveled down over my bruised and swollen breasts and I quickly scrambled to cover myself. When I turned around to grab my shirt, Remmey sucked in a shocked breath, and the baby started crying. I tried to throw the blouse on and keep myself covered with my hands at the same time.

Remmey handed me the baby.

"Claire ok, Jazz. She do this sometime. If she get...too worked up." He picked my sister up like she was his own child and held her close to him. Her fifteen-year-old body looked so small in his strong arms. Remmey was tall and muscular. But slim. Claire's arms and legs dangled lifelessly around him.

I started crying along with the baby.

"Jazz, take Sammy to the other room. I'ma put Claire to bed."

I didn't want to leave her.

I followed Remmey into the bedroom. He gently laid her across the bed and took off her shoes. Then he pulled the covers halfway up over her. He seemed to measure how much of her was covered, then he pulled the sheets up another inch. I just stared at him. He was acting like this was normal. Just like he did when he kicked that man's hand away from him. Everything crazy was normal to him.