12 - Secrets

She stared at the plate on the side table. It was covered with untouched gravy and beans. The green beans peeking out from the brown sauce frowned at Ms Collins. "Robin, are you sure you're not hungry? You haven't been eating much," she said.

"No, I'm okay. Thanks."

"Please, Robin. Promise you'll eat later on today." Sighing, she picked up the plate. Her brows furrowed.

"Okay." The promise was hollow, they both knew it. Neither wanted to admit it though, preferring to stay in denial.

Ms Collins stood and dragged her feet to the kitchen. "Gary, I'm going to pack the stuff I left behind," she said as she walked to the base of the stairs.

"They're in the bedroom closet. Top shelf on the right." His voice came from the kitchen.

The sink ran as plates stacked in the cabinets.

Ding dong!

"I'll get the door!" The floorboards creaked as Erin galloped down the hall.

Robin sat in the reclining chair dully watching the action on the television screen. Her eyes were there, but her mind was elsewhere.

"Hello, little one. Mr Bishop." A woman said.

She didn't bother to turn and look. The energy to do so would be overwhelming. The bags beneath her eyes sagged to the floor, highlighting the paleness in her pigment. So exhausted.

"Gary, I can't find it!"

"Hold on, Robin's social worker's here!"

"Oh, that's okay. I actually need to talk with Robin anyway."

She groaned inwardly as her eyes closed. Talking to people about herself was worse than all the exams in the world.

"Robin, hey. How are you doing?" Her head tilted to the side, trying to see Robin's face.

Snail-like, she averted her gaze. "Good afternoon, Ms Hartman. I'm fine. Yourself?" Her fingers slow-danced in her lap. She wanted rest.

"I'm just dandy!"

Ms Hartman's perky tone irked her. It was too happy for Robin's taste. Forcing a polite smile, Robin nodded.

"How are you holding up?"

She was tempted to shrug. "I'm fine."

An unsatisfactory glare leapt to the social worker's face. As she scooted beside her, she leant in closer. "Robin, you know I'm not asking if you're fine. Must you be this complicated? I thought we were on speaking terms?" Her voice was gentle but the agitation was bold.

"We are. It's just there's nothing to report. What do you want from me?" Yawning, Robin covered her mouth.

"Have you been sleeping?"

Stifling the next yawn, Robin gulped. "Ms Hartman, I'm getting my beauty sleep, okay."

"Your bed head says different." Her eyebrow quirked as a disbelieving smirk flashed.

She blinked. 'Way to make a girl self-conscious,' Robin complained. As she flattened her hair, she kept her eyes down.

"I'm worried about you. What's going on here?"

"Nothing."

Shooting up, her hands flew to her hips. The golden coloured suit jacket covering her arms wrinkled. Narrowing her eyes, they shot daggers. "Stop being so stubborn! I know you're a teenager, but you need to answer truthfully!" Her patience was drowning.

Silence answered the middle-aged woman.

"Fine. When you're ready to talk, just call me in. I'm not leaving until we do. So, make up your mind. Talk now or later."

Sighing, she closed her eyes, willing the nagging woman away. But, the woman stayed put. "Whatever." Robin's tone was indifferent. Beneath her imprudent tone, she was frightened and her heart dashed as the seat beside her dipped. Licking her lips, Robin waited for the interrogation.

"Has there been any incidences I should be aware of?"

Her mind tugged. Of course questionable circumstances had transpired. Shutting her eyes, she frowned.

"Robin?"

"Yes, I heard you," Robin muttered. "Mr Bishop just yells sometimes is all. All adults do though..."

"And, what does he do when he yells?" She paused, her voice at piano. "Does he hurt anyone?"

"He's just quick tempered."

"Who did he get upset with?"

"Erin, but he never laid a hand on her." Robin's eyes searched for Ms Collins, but she wasn't anywhere in sight. None of them were. It was like they disappeared into thin air.

"Robin, I don't understand. You need to give me more than one or two sentences."

Huffing, Robin's eyebrows knitted. "I thought he was going to hit her, okay? They were upstairs and I was making his breakfast. I heard loud thuds from the bedroom Erin and I share. When he came down, I went up to see if Erin was hurt any. She wasn't but she was crying, and the room was trashed." She was tempted to add her thoughts of calling, but she decided to keep quiet.

"How trashed?"

"The books from the shelf were on the floor, the drawers were open, our clothes were all across the floor, and the lamp hung by its cord."

"Oh my!" Ms Hartman's mouth twisted as she jotted on her notepad. "Has Mr Bishop ever done anything like that again?"

"No." Her Adam's apple slid up her throat.

"Do you think he'd ever be angry enough to psychically hurt Erin?"

"The calmest of men can be driven to hurt others in rage." Her answer was flat and allusive.

"I'm not asking about men in general. I'm asking about Erin's father ever being driven to hurt his daughter."

"Look, I uh, I don't know. He cares a lot about her, I just think he's angered quickly."

"Do you think he'd ever hurt you?"

"I uh..."

She asked, her voice soft as a mouse, "Has he hurt you before?"

Robin's shoulders dropped in their tensed state. Swallowing the dryness in her throat, she licked her gums. Shaking her head, Robin's hair tickled her upper arms.

"Robin"-Ms Hartman sat and placed her hand on Robin's shoulder-"you can tell me."

"I can't."

"Robin, it's eating you. This feeling won't go away unless you own what's happened. I'm here, I'm willing to listen. What's been going on?"

A rueful smile tugged at Robin's lip. Ms Collins said that too. Then it disappeared. Knowing Ms Hartman, she'd send her to the mental hospital. If anything was worse than revealing information about herself, it was hospital. The sterile air, the fake smiles, and the interrogations by doctors for hours on end would drive anyone insane.

Despite that, Robin shook her head. "Nothing."

"Please, Robin. You don't need to hold it in. You don't need to hide anymore."

"There's nothing going on!"

"If he hurt you, I need to know!"

"Stop it!"

"Robin, please! I can get you away from here. You don't need to suffer!"

"What about Erin?"

"What about her? What are you afraid of?"

She didn't need to answer.

"Are you afraid he might hurt her?"

"I don't know! Okay!" Her lip was bleeding so Robin flicked her tongue over the slit. She wanted to cry. Her exhaustion completely wore down her defences.

Blinking back her tears, Ms Harman wrapped Robin into a hug.

"Robin, is Mr Bishop hurting you?"

With her chin rested on the woman's fibre jacket, Robin's shoulders trembled. The tears flushed to her face fighting her plain lashes. Her mind released all self-shame with each tear that fell on Ms Hartman's shoulder. Her breath was erratic, panting as her mouth stumbled with words. Squeezing her eyes shut, Robin bore her teeth as her throat groaned. Her hands wrapped around Ms Hartman's neck as her heart's pain seeped out from her body.

"Robin, it's alright love. Let it out. Let it all go." Her dainty hands threaded through the thick bush of chocolate hair.

Clearing her throat, Robin snuffled. "He was drunk."

As he guzzled the bevvy, Robin's chest thumped. The cold sweat dribbled down her temple. Men with vices were twice as dangerous.

"Mr Bishop."

He wore a plaintive smile as his is blood-shot eyes found Robin's.

Robin nodded in her embrace. "Yeah."

She didn't like the look in his grey eyes, the unease settled deep within.

"What happened?"

Lust. Her mind spun. Blinking, her eyes fell to the throw rug.

"He, uh. He came over to me."

As he neared, she shifted her weight from one leg to another.

"And touched my cheek." Robin pulled back some to wipe her eyes.

Flinching, the soft yet firmness of his finger pads glided across her cheekbone.

Ms Hartman's compassionate eyes urged Robin to continue.

Shuttering, the tug from his hand through her hair snapped some from her scalp.

"He hugged me."

Straightening her back, she gulped as his arm pressed against the small curve in her back. She breathed deep, inhaling his cologne. Though she forced herself to still, she squirmed as the bulge in his pants chaffed her thigh.

"I told him not to touch me."

She didn't recognise the shrill, as her heart raced so loud.

"He uh. He hit me."

The heat came instantaneously as her skin felt like it was in flames. Her breath left her as she tripped for steady footing. After a short pause, the pain was that of sun burn. There but itching for attention.

"He yelled and grabbed my arm."

Her eyes widened, her heart stopped, scared straight.

"What did he say?"

Panting, she tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it held her captive. Squinting, her throat cinched.

"He cussed and told me not to disrespect him."

Mr Bishop's fingernail jabbed her chest. Robin flinched as his spit caught on her face.

"Did he hit you again?"

She looked at his hands. They were as big as her fathers. Big enough to cause irreparable damage.

Her body shook as her insides felt like they were scrambling in a blender. She was close to tears.

"Y-Yeah."

Wham!

One moment she was steady on her feet and the next she tumbled to the floor. Yelping, her shoulder dug into the floor as she groaned. Her mouth throbbed as she clutched it. The blood inside her cheek washed over her teeth. Waves of pain surged in her teeth as they tightened.

"He was screaming. Asking me if I thought I was better than him."

Shrinking back, Robin shifted her hair over her face. He was the last person she wanted to see.

"He flipped me onto my back, pinning me down."

The angle at which her shoulder blades crushed the hardwood left her lungs searching for breath. The bone shoved into her protesting muscles. Robin winced at the pressure eager to dislocate the joints.

"What did you do?"

Mr Bishop's knuckles rammed into her ribs, robbing her breath as she writhed to alleviate her side.

"I was trying to calm him down."

"I-I'm not. I mean uh. I-I-I." She was grasping for answers as she tried to think what would make him stop. All the while, she sputtered and her stomach rolled.

"He pulled me up."

Suddenly, Robin's shoulders ripped off the floor in one winded moment. She yelped, as his fingernails made craters in her moon skin.

"And shoved me backwards."

Her eyes went saucer-wide as she tumbled into the kitchen. Foot after foot kept tripping on one another as her arms flailed.

"My head slammed into the counter."

She gasped as her hand leapt to the back of her beating skull.

"Were you bleeding?"

Releasing one slight breath, her mind eased some. No blood; no serious damage or evidence left to clean up.

Robin shook her head, closing her eyes in relief. The worst of the memory was finally drifting out. "No, the phone rang."

Ring! Ring!

Robin's temples throbbed and every noise only exacerbated the brain-shattering pulse. Cradling her head, she blocked out the noise.

"What did he do?"

His face was stone-cold, his jaw relaxed.

She managed to catch the devil's eyes and she curled to make herself smaller. Snuggling back, Robin's back pressed against the cabinetry.

"He picked it up."

"Who is this?" His domineering voice boomed.

Jumping, Robin's heart was a thoroughbred in the Kentucky Derby.

"Do you remember what he said?"

Her eyes casted onto the potted plant in the window sill. It was wilted, browning, dying-just like her.

"I-I can't remember exactly. Something about me in the shower though."

Lord, she wished she was in the shower, singing her heart out like he claimed. But she was on the dirty floor, trying to hold her bladder instead.

"What else did Mr Bishop say?"

Robin's gaze travelled onto the landline, thankful for the interruption from his fire. She itched to escape from the kitchen, but she dared not move, her disquiet binding her to the cool salmon tiles. She listened intently to the conversation.

Robin looked straight in Ms Hartman's eyes, intentionally, fearlessly.

"Yup...uh, actually we won't be here that day. ...I understand, but... Don't interrupt me!" He barked with a tinge of aggression, but his voice quelled as he added a weak, "please."

Robin's teeth clench as she rubbed her jaw. It was a dull pain at the moment.

"Who was he speaking with?"

His lips curled into the creepiest grin she ever saw.

"You."

"Well, that was Ms Hartman. The old prune wanted to check up on 'ya."

"Me?"

Robin nodded twice. "Yeah."

"When was this?"

"When Erin left with Ms Collins. Two weeks ago maybe?"

Ms Hartman sighed as she rubbed Robin's arm.

"Robin."

Her head whipped around, her heart fell to her pit, and a lump too large to swallow caught in her throat.

Standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, his glare wasn't menacing but it wasn't happy either.

Bowing her head, she shied behind Ms Hartman's body until she could no longer see him.

"We need to talk," Ms Hartman said. They stared, the hardness in their eyes equal. Standing up, she brushed off the invisible dust collected on her pencil skirt. As she walked up to him, her finger pointed out.

Word Count: 2296
A/N: Thank you for all your comments, votes, and reads! I hit 1.1K! What?! XD You all are fantastic!

This chapter is dedicated to my friend, EliciaHyder! Her book, The Bed She Made is published and here on WP!! Go check it out! I promise you won't be disappointed! ;) This is her book's summary; I do not own it. ALSO, it is being entered into Wattys 2015, so please go over and help her out! =D Thank you!

"Reformed bad girl Journey Durant has just received the news that her ex-boyfriend is about to be released from prison. She can't shake the feeling that her troubled past is coming home with him. The town of Emerson, Georgia has forgiven and forgotten her involvement in the most publicised tragedy in the town's history, but only because of her three year absence, her prominent Southern Baptist family, and her marriage to the closest thing her small town has to a superhero.

Bullets and emotions fly, leaving Journey to realise that no matter what penance she has done for her past, the mistakes of her youth still carry unpaid penalties and it's her father's words that reverberate in her mind: Someday you'll have to lie in the bed you've made."