Bellissimo Fortuna (Beautiful Fortune) by Leigh Ann Lunsford Page B

say you had to?” She is biting her lip, tears welling in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks.
    “I just think it’s best.”
    “Give me the fucking phone, Callie,” I don’t mean for my tone to be that, but when she flinches away from me, I cuss under my breath. Son of a bitch, I’m scaring her when she’s already traumatized by whatever’s on her phone.
    Silently, she hands me the phone, tears streaming down her face.
     
    Don’t make me regret your arrangement. Heard your boy was asking questions - do you think he’d still want you if you looked like this?
     
    Attached is an image that makes me sick. A woman’s beaten and bloodied face stares up at me from the skin. “Jesus, who is this?”
    “My mom.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Yes, Bronson. I’m sure. I’ve lived it.” I realize this isn’t the first time, that’s why she recognized her so easily. Her laugh catches me off guard. “What’s wrong with me?”
    “Babe, this isn’t your fault.”
    “No, I don’t care about that. She checked out on being my mom a long time ago. I’ll make sure she’s okay, but she’s probably passed out. What I’m more worried about is his mention of you. He scares me daily, but now I’m just mad.”
    “Don’t go home tonight. Stay. I promise I’ll be okay, he isn’t stupid enough to hurt me, and you said your mom is fine.”
    She wants to, but I know she won’t. She doesn’t want to rock the boat with her dad, but I’m not letting her go back there. I hate the ultimatum I give her. “If you go back there tonight, I have no choice but to tell my dad about his implied threat.”
    Her eyes round. I’ve never threatened her before, and I’ve always made her feel safe, like she had a voice, an outlet with me. I can’t jeopardize her safety. Not now.
    “I’m sleeping in Bianca’s room.” I laugh.
    “No doubt.”
    “I’m mad at you for putting me in this situation.”
    Sure she is. “I’m sorry. I know it must be hard choosing between us.”
    “There’s no choice. You win every time.” I lean over the console and give her a fast kiss, and before I can lose my head, I start the car and drive home.
     

     
    Things were so great that summer, date nights, days on the water, Callie safe and with me. With school starting our time will be limited to the weekends and occasional evenings after homework and activities. I’m trying to keep up my grades, watch out for her and Bianca, but somehow I am failing. She is becoming withdrawn, losing weight, losing her spark, and it scares me to death. The stress of her home life is crashing down on her, but I’ll be dammed if I let it crush her.
    I watch her press her hand in between her rib cage, applying pressure and wincing. “You okay?”
    “Yes,” she lies. I can tell from the breathy tone that she’s hurting.
    “Let’s go,” I demand standing up.
    “Where?”
    “I’m taking you to the doctor.” As she starts protesting, I lean over and pick her up. She has no other option with this, no bargaining, no more telling me she’s fine, or if it’s not better soon she’ll go to the doctor. That’s all I’ve heard for the past two months. She starts crying, and it drives me insane. I can’t stand to see her in any kind of pain. “What? What are you worried about?” Immediately my mind goes to a dark place; what if her dad has been hurting her? I gently lift her shirt up to look at her sternum and suck in a breath when I realize I can count each one of her ribs. “Damn it, Callie. Are you eating at all?”
    “It hurts to, and when I do, it won’t stay down.”
    Shit. I break all records and get her to the doctor in no time at all. She lets me go back with her and after some poking and prodding, her crying; he tells us it’s an ulcer. A fucking bleeding ulcer most likely caused from stress. I make a promise to myself to take every burden from her and carry it myself. Taking her back to my house, I watch her sleep, not wanting to leave