by Cora Brent
“Think I’ll stick with water.” She brought me the water, got a bowl of gumbo for herself and sat down across from me.
“So you want to be a fashion designer,” I said. Her dark eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? Isn’t that what you said before?”
“Well yeah, but I didn’t think you were listening at the time.”
“I already told you, Truly. I’m always listening when you talk.”
She dropped her spoon into her bowl with a loud clatter.
“Creed.” She said my name as if it was a curse. I stopped chewing, wondering what the hell I’d done to piss her off. She leaned forward, the ends of her hair brushing the table while I waited for her to look at me again. When she did I saw that she wasn’t angry at all. She seemed nervous. “I’m starting to like you too much.”
“Who says?” I put my hand under her chin and moved in to gently kiss her lips. “Huh?”
We resumed eating in silence. Occasionally Truly would look my way, her dark eyes full of secrets. It was okay. I had a few of my own.
After we ate, Truly asked if I wanted to watch television. I didn’t, but I sat on the couch next to her anyway. She rested her head on my shoulder and sighed happily as I flipped through the channels. I noticed her smile when I slipped my arm around her shoulders to hold her closer. I was reminded of Saylor and Cord.
“Do you like this show?” she asked. There were a bunch of scrawny women running around and screaming. Two of them began pulling each other’s hair.
“No.” I turned off the television. I touched the gauzy fabric of her skirt. “Do you make a lot of your own clothes?”
“I used to. I would scour eBay for vintage patterns and spend just about every spare penny on fabric.”
“Used to? You don’t anymore?”
“Well,” she said slowly, “I had to sell my sewing machine about a year ago. As soon as I can scrape together enough tip money I’ll get another one. I miss sewing. It’s such a basic pleasure, creating something pretty. When I was about eight my mom dumped us off with our great grandmother for a few weeks. I don’t know where the hell she went during that time but it’s not important. Granny June was a doll. She was the one who taught me how to piece quilts and how to follow a garment pattern. She had this ancient Singer treadle.”
My fingers played in Truly’s hair as she talked. “She had a what?”
Truly glanced up at me with a stunning smile. “Treadle machines came before electric ones. Granny June said hers was from the early nineteen hundreds. It was bolted into a table and sat about this high.” She sat up and started using her hands to explain what she was talking about. “There was this big flat pedal underneath and the machine sewed as fast as your foot pumped.”
“Is that like the one you had?”
“No,” she sighed. “I had a new model electric one. Did embroidery and everything. It was a good machine, but I never stopped pining for Granny June’s treadle. I’ll get one someday.”
When she settled against me again I started running my hands over her legs. I parted her knees and got on the floor between them.
“You don’t say much,” she whispered as my hands went higher and her legs spread wider.
“You want to talk some more right now?” I asked as my thumb went inside her and began moving.
She arched towards me. “Mmm. Maybe not now.” She leaned back and I pushed another finger inside of her. “You didn’t let me finish my sentence though.”
With my other hand I started unbuttoning her blouse. “Finish it then.”
She gasped a little when I moved my hand to her lower back and pushed her forward as my other hand stayed firmly between her legs. I was pressing her between my hands and she loved it.
“Dammit,” she breathed, holding onto my shoulders. “I meant that you don’t say much, Creed.” She bit her lip as her body began to clench involuntarily. “But when you do, it really counts.”
I watched her face as she got off on my hand. She always kept her eyes closed and a deep flush rose from her neck to her forehead. When she was done I picked her up in my arms and carried her into the bedroom. I laid her down on the bed and pushed her hands away.
“Let me do this,” I said hoarsely and she relaxed, keeping her arms at her sides. I forced myself to go slowly as I stripped everything off her. I liked letting it build like this. Every new inch of Truly’s exposed skin made my pants a little tighter. She watched as I made short work of my own clothes and climbed on top of her. Her legs went around me eagerly and I pounded her sexy body until I couldn’t breathe.
The damn cat scared the living hell out of me when it leapt onto the bed.
“Jesus!” I yelled, jumping off.
Truly laughed and pulled the thing into her arms. “You’re scaring her.”
“Fuck that. She scared me first.”
The cat licked her lips. Truly kissed her on the top of her head and gently put her on the floor. “Go on now, Dolly.”
Dolly strutted past me and through the door. I slammed it shut behind her.
Truly was grinning. “How come you hate my cat?”
“I don’t hate your cat. Your cat hates me. What did she ever do with the shirt I left here last week?”
She blushed furiously in a way that had nothing to do with sex. A second later I saw why. I picked my shirt up off her dresser. It had been folded with care.
“I washed it,” she stammered.
“All right,” I shrugged, not really understanding why she was so bent out of shape. “Thanks.” I saw a framed photo of four teenage girls on her dresser and picked it up. “Friends?”
“No,” she said quietly. “Those are my sisters.”
With the photo still in hand I sat down next to her on the bed. She pulled a blanket around herself. I didn’t understand why she always did that. We’d already fucked multiple times on multiple nights. Obviously I’d gotten a real close look at everything there was to see. But I didn’t want to embarrass her so I didn’t say anything.
“I know,” she nodded, watching me stare at the picture. “None of us look anything alike and you’d never believe we were sisters if I didn’t tell you.”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
Truly cocked her head. “What were you thinking then?”
In the picture a younger Truly was beaming radiantly. It was true that none of the other three looked anything like her or anything like each other, although they were all pretty girls. One was thin with pale blonde hair and eyebrows. Another had hair the color of strawberries but was noticeably more solid, muscular. The girl standing nearest to Truly had dark skin and very short hair. Truly’s arm was casually slung around that girl’s shoulder. From the way they stood together I would have guessed that they were very close even if I knew nothing else about them.
“I was thinking that you look happy here,” I finally said.
“I was,” she sighed. “That picture was taken on my seventeenth birthday, before all hell broke loose.”
Carefully I set the picture back on the dresser. “How did it break loose?”
She didn’t answer. She pulled her knees up to her chest and clammed up. She’d mentioned before that she didn’t see her family so whatever had happened had been bad. There was pain written on her face. It hurt me to see it there.
Truly saw me watching. “Now what are you thinking?”
I wasn’t sure I should tell her. “I was trying to imagine how I would feel if I were all alone, without Cord and Chase.” I cleared my throat. “I can’t.”
That made her smile a little. “You love them, your brothers.”
“Of course.”
Truly nodded. “I love my sisters too. I think Mia and Carrie forgive me but I don’t know about Aggie. It’s a little more complicated with her.”
I touched her knee. “Forgive you for what, honey?”
“Nothing,” she shook her head. “It’s not important right now. I’m just sitting here feeling sorry for myself w
hen I shouldn’t be. There’s some regrets that you just can’t do anything about, you know? But that damn well doesn’t stop them from haunting you from time to time.”
She rested her head atop her knees, her black hair spilling around her. I touched her cheek and swallowed.
“I chose Chase.”
Those words came out of nowhere. I hadn’t planned on saying them. I’d just been thinking about what she said. Haunting regrets.
Truly looked at me strangely. “What?”
I exhaled raggedly and walked over to turn off the light. This could only be told in darkness.
“My father was one sick fuck. He knew how much us boys loved each other and he used it against us. I’d broken a school window with a rock and they were demanding that my father pay for it. Of course that sent him into a tirade. But, instead of beating the shit out of me he grabbed Cord and Chase and told me to pick which one was gonna get the beating. I wouldn’t do it, not at first, but then he said he’d hurt both of them and it would be even worse than if I’d chosen. Cord had been sick with pneumonia a few weeks earlier and he still wasn’t right. So I picked Chase.”
It was the most I’d said in a while to anyone. It was terrible and it was all true.
I could barely see Truly in the darkness. It seemed like she might have stopped breathing. Then her arms went around me and we fell back on the bed together. We didn’t have sex again, not then anyway. We just kissed and touched and remained silent together. After she fell asleep in my arms my chest began to hurt.
Why now? Why fucking now??
It had to be one goddamn sick universe that decided to bring us together just when everything might be lost.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Truly
Creed Gentry was more of a puzzle than I’d imagined. He could be gruff, standoffish, on an endless and unapologetic quest to satisfy his own needs. And then he would change direction so completely I wondered how I could have ever misjudged him.
More than anything, he was honest in a way that I couldn’t bring myself to be.
The sun was barely over the horizon when I woke up. I’d never been very good about sleeping in. It came from being the oldest, the one who had to get breakfast made and people dressed for the day when the only parent in the home couldn’t get out of bed.
Creed was sound asleep. I covered him with my handmade quilt and ran a hand lightly along his cheek, feeling the rough bristle of an unshaven day. Looking at him, he took up so much of the bed that I marveled over the fact that I’d somehow been able to fit there too.
I pulled on a pair of capris and a fitted green top before closing the door softly behind me. Dolly was waiting on the other side with an accusatory look on her face. I sat down on the floor to show her some affection for a few minutes.
“You’re still my best girl,” I said, cuddling her in my arms.
After a quick shower I towel dried my hair and checked on Creed. He was still asleep, snoring lightly.
Stephanie’s door was closed so she must have returned at some point. I didn’t need to worry about being quiet for her sake though. That girl couldn’t be roused by a fire alarm. She rarely appeared before ten am and then usually bolted straight off to class.
I felt like cooking. Bustling around the kitchen always made me feel useful and happy. But as I began hunting down the ingredients for a cheese omelet my mind kept going back to what Creed had said in the darkness.
He’d known terrible things. I’d known terrible things too but they were different. Sometimes they were things I’d brought about myself.
While I’d never known Creed’s horrors, the only vaguely good memories I had of my mother were back when we were little. Later on, time wore away too much of her to leave anything resembling love and kindness behind.
I started cracking eggs and angrily dismissed thoughts of Laura Lee. Had I done what I’d done because she was a crappy, selfish excuse for a mother? Or was it simply a base weakness I carried around inside of me? At any rate it hadn’t taken much for her to turn her back on me. Dear lord if I was ever lucky enough to have a daughter…
The egg I was holding fell out of my hand and broke on the floor. Mechanically, I reached down to pick it up. I carried the whole mess to the sink and washed my hands clean.
When I shut off the water the stillness got to me. Sometimes I turned on some music in the morning. When I’d asked Creed about singing he’d seemed embarrassed. I didn’t tell him that I used to sing too. A kindly neighbor had taken an interest in four neglected girls and spirited us off to church every Sunday. It was a beautiful place filled with people who smiled a lot. I had learned some of their songs. Standing there in my own kitchen, I began singing one of them. The music got me moving again and I returned to making cheese omelets. I wanted them to be ready when Creed woke up.
I was nearing the end of ‘Down to the River to Pray’ when I realized Creed was standing in the doorway watching me.
“Don’t stop,” he whispered when I paused.
He leaned against the door frame, completely naked, with a look of pure serenity on his face as I resumed singing. When I finished he broke into a brilliant smile. God help me, if I hadn’t been a goner before, then I surely became one right there.
“Well,” I said, “now you’ve heard me but I haven’t heard you.”
“You will. What are you making?”
“Cheese omelets. Sound good?”
“Yeah. You got any coffee?”
“I do. You got any clothes?”
He glanced down at himself with some surprise. “Somewhere,” he said as if he didn’t understand why it mattered.
“Check out the floor,” I told him and flipped an omelet.
I started some coffee while he retreated. I hoped he was dressing. I didn’t exactly mind looking at the splendid creation that was his body, but Stephanie might be a little put out.
Creed emerged with his pants on but his chest still bare. He poured himself a cup of coffee and drank it black. Then he stood directly behind me while I tried to concentrate on finishing the omelets.
“This is an effort,” he said.
I didn’t turn around. “What?”
His hands were suddenly on me, running over my hips, up to my breasts and between my legs as he kissed the back of my neck. I nearly dissolved like sugar in water.
“It’s an effort not to tackle you and rip all this sexy shit off your body.”
I turned around and cheerfully pushed a plate into his chest. “Breakfast is ready.”
Creed grumbled but shuffled off to the table. He waited until I sat down too before he picked up a fork and started to eat. “Damn, this is good.”
I was pleased. “I’m glad you like it.”
He stared at me. I felt something on the inside of my left thigh and realized he’d slipped his hand down there. “What time you got to be at work?”
“I don’t. It’s my day off.”
“No shit? Mine too.”
I bit my lip. “You want to do something?”
Both his hands started stroking my thighs. “All right.”
I poked his shoulder. “Sometimes people do things other than fornicate.”
Creed took his hands away and picked up his coffee. “So what do you want to do, Truly Lee?”
“Why’d you stop? I didn’t say I wanted to do something other than fornicate.”
He spat out his coffee, laughing loudly.
Stephanie’s door flung open and she burst through it in a wild rush.
“Oh,” she grumbled, glowering at Creed. “It’s just you.”
She wore a shapeless gray t-shirt and a pair of ancient cutoff jeans she always liked to sleep in.
“Sorry if we woke you up,” I said, surprised because usually nothing woke her. She had dark circles under her eyes so perhaps she wasn’t sleeping well. “You want to join us?”
“Just tell your ogre to keep it down.” She moved into the kitchen and sniffed.
I pointe
d to the stove. “I made an extra omelet. It’s yours if you want it.”
That seemed to brighten her mood. She grabbed a plate and went to transfer the omelet from the frying pan onto the plate. Unfortunately, her aim was sloppy and it wound up on the floor. Stephanie shrugged and grabbed it anyway.
“Thanks,” she yawned, carrying to the plate to her bedroom. She slammed the door behind her.
“What the hell,” Creed muttered.
I shook my head. “Exactly.”
Creedence could be quite the gentleman. He gathered up the dishes and washed them carefully while I finished my coffee. He even washed Stephanie’s plate after she tossed it in there before disappearing into the shower.
“I should change,” I frowned, looking down at my shirt. It had a halter-style strap and was a tight fit around my breasts.
“Why?” he asked as he pulled his own shirt on.
“A lady should make some overtures to decency.” His expression seemed a little blank and I rolled my eyes. “My tits are practically poppin’ out, Creedence.”
Creed stood in front of me and grabbed a handful of my right breast. “Honey, you couldn’t hide all this if you tried.” He smiled. “So don’t try.”
I let him talk me into coming back to his apartment to wait while he showered and changed. I didn’t see the boys’ truck or Saylor’s car parked outside and the place was quiet. Creed told me I could hang out in the living room if I wanted to. I felt a little uncomfortable as I sat on the couch and listened to the shower starting down the hall.
Chase Gentry walked into the living room rubbing his eyes. I figured I should be grateful that he was at least wearing underwear.
“Hi,” he said when he saw me.
“Hello Chase. How are you?”
He sat down next to me. Right next to me. Our shoulders touched. He put his elbows on his knees and frowned at the wall. Chase was every bit as tough, strong and categorically sexy as his brothers. But there was something else about him too. Saylor had often talked about how smart he was but he also had a vulnerable, childish quality that made you want to take care of him.