by Liz Crowe
“He’s breaking up with her. He told me so. She can’t go to prom, you know. Her Daddy won’t let her or some such thing. Probably can’t afford a dress anyway.”
“Yeah, she’d look funny in her overalls, bless her heart.”
Renee laughed. A whoosh-whooshing noise filled Diana’s head. Her throat closed up.
“Yeah, well, he told me she’s sorta, you know, flat up top anyways. He likes these.” Her friend burst out laughing, and the sound filled all the voids in Diana’s soul.
“Well, that’ll make two of you.”
“Now, now, don’t be jealous just ’cause you don’t have a fine set like I do.”
“Spare me, you bitch.”
“And now you can just line up with all the other jealous sluts ’cause I got myself the prize: Dominic Sean Love. He’s smitten, I assure you. Little Miss Flat-Chested Farm Girl will be history soon. I know how to make my man happy.”
“Did you…you know?”
“Of course. You’da thought I’d given him the keys to the bank vault when I got down on my knees. Sweet boy.” The tone of Renee’s voice shifted from teasing to serious.
Diana blinked and touched her face, feeling the tears flowing, like a braid-wearing, poor, farm-girl loser. She lurched up out of the ratty driver’s seat of the junker Chevy and cranked the key, forcing a horrible noise from under the hood. Wincing, she gripped the wheel, threw the thing into gear and peeled out, hoping to God she’d managed to spray pebbles all over the skanky whore and her stupid friend.
She screeched to a halt at the street, chest heaving, mind spinning.
“Hey! Di! Wait up!”
She spotted the cheating jerk in the rearview, waving and running toward her car. She leaned halfway out the window. “Stay away from me, you asshole!”
Even from where she sat Diana saw the sweat on his exposed shoulders and arms. She glared over at the two girls who’d installed themselves at a nearby picnic table, sipping their sodas. She spotted the one who must be Renee right away. Perfectly styled dark-blonde hair, a little too much makeup, but with those tits half hanging out of a silky shirt that probably cost more than the entire contents of Diana’s closet.
“I know you weren’t camping, Dom. Better tell your new girlfriend over there to talk less. I’m willing to bet she has better uses for her stupid mouth.”
Dom’s jaw dropped. The ball he’d been carrying bounced onto the pebbly parking lot. She waited, willing him to deny it. But he stayed still, hands on his hips, his gaze focused downward.
“Go to hell,” she yelled so loud it hurt her throat. The last thing she heard were annoying giggles coming from the vicinity of the picnic table.
***
“Leave me alone,” she mumbled into her pillow when her mother knocked for the millionth time. Diana hurt all over, head to toe. She must be dying, for certain, thanks to him. Her heart would simply bust out of her chest and explode all over her bedroom. The bedroom where she’d let him…she squeezed her eyes shut and screamed, just to blot out the sound of her own inner voice and of the bedroom door opening.
“Get up. Scoot over.”
“Go fuck yourself, Jen. You’re the one who…who…oh crap. I’m such an idiot.”
“Nice mouth. Now get up and listen to me.”
“Why should I? You screwed him first, remember?”
“I know, and I’m real sorry about that for more reasons than one.” Jen grabbed her arm and hauled her up to a seated position. “What did he do now?”
“He…it’s…she….” Diana sucked in a breath and more sobs exploded out of her, making her mad all over again. She let Jen hold her tight until she got under control, then she flopped onto the bed. “He spent the night with…with…Renee Reese.”
“Hmm, no big surprise there. She seems his type.”
“Hey! I’m his type. You are too, last time I checked.” Diana glowered at her sister. “I don’t wanna talk about him with you. Leave me alone.”
“Oh, honey.” Jen rubbed her shoulders. “You’re better off without a guy like Dom. Trust me.”
“You don’t know. You don’t understand. You just…just fucked him. You don’t love him. I love him and he loves me. He told me so.”
“Di, listen.” Jen crouched down on the floor in front of her and brushed a lock of damp hair off Diana’s forehead. “He’s not a good guy. Not at all. I know I shouldn’t have…you know. But I also know that I don’t love him and can see him for what he is. He’s gonna hurt you, baby sister. I don’t want that for you.”
“Oh, go to hell, Jen. And get out of my room. I don’t need you—my sweet sister who seduced my boyfriend right under my dang nose—feeling sorry for me.”
Jen propped her elbows on the bed, shoving her face closer to Diana’s. “He is not your boyfriend, Diana.”
“Yes, he is.”
“No, he’s not. When has he actually used the exact words: ‘Diana Brantley, you are my girlfriend. We are together.’”
“He…it’s….”
“Yeah? What is it? Help me understand.”
Furious at her sister’s bossy tone, Diana pushed away, got up, and flounced over to her window seat overlooking the yard. She touched the sill, noting the scratches Dom had put there with his boots the last time he’d scrambled out when her father’s voice had interrupted them.
“He’s a bad guy, Diana. You don’t understand that yet, but you will.”
Rage rose up from her chest and spilled into her throat, making her want to puke.
“You’re not letting him get away with not using a rubber, right?”
“Of course not.” Diana ran her finger down the window pane, wishing she could see him right now, let him explain, hold her and kiss her. She had let him get away without a rubber one time, which had netted her the UTI and two terrified weeks of could I be pregnant? which she wasn’t, thank the Lord in heaven.
“I love him, Jennifer,” she declared, softly at first. “I love him. I love Dominic Love and there’s nothing you can do about it! Get out!” she hollered so loud she knew her parents could hear but she didn’t care.
Jen got to her feet and straightened her skirt. She’d been working at a fancy restaurant in Lexington while she went to community college and must have just gotten off her shift. Diana dropped her arm and her fingers located something she could grasp—one of her rodeo trophies, won when her parents could still afford to enter in such things. It felt solid and dangerous. Without a second thought, she sent it flying right at her sister.
Jen simply ducked to the right. The trophy thudded against her dresser and sent a bottle of perfume crashing to the rug. The smell of knock-off Calvin Klein filled the air.
“Get out! Get out! Get out!” Her throat hurt so badly she could barely speak but she kept on yelling.
***
She sat, still awake late into the night. When a familiar sound floated up to her, she scrambled out of bed and raised the window.
“Go away and don’t come here again,” she whispered down to Dom’s shadowy figure, not meaning a single word.
“Diana, baby, please let me explain.”
“No.” She glared down at him. He stepped into the light shed by the moon. She gripped the windowsill. “Go to Renee. Let her suck your dick.” She slammed the window closed and dropped to her butt, sobbing again.
More rocks peppered the window. She counted to twenty, willing him to go away while wishing for him to never give up. Exhausted, she crawled into bed, dropping into a strange half-sleep peopled with sexy blonde girls on their knees interspersed with images of Dominic, his broad shoulders, the sound of his laugh, the feel of his lips.
“Shhh….” someone insisted in her ear. He tugged her nightgown up, found her nipples, her sore sex. Even as she cried, she kissed him, and when he’d teased her into a shivery orgasm she exhaled and let naïve, immature relief fill her where she’d been so very empty before.
“I’m so, so sorry. baby. So sorry…Diana…I have to�
��.”
She shifted her hips and he slid into her body, stroking deep, all the while staring at her with the sort of intensity that brought on yet more annoying tears. She wrapped her legs around him, thankful for the orgasm for a lot of reasons, not the least of which so she wouldn’t be raw in the morning.
He buried his face in her neck, shivering as he moved faster and faster. When he groaned, Diana sensed the warmth inside her, and was relieved that her mom got her on the pill, knowing she risked all manner of nastiness letting him go bareback, but not caring. He lay against her sweaty neck, breathing heavily, then pulled out and flopped onto his side.
She didn’t move, couldn’t speak for the jealous fury still roiling through her. “Why, Dom?”
He threaded his fingers in hers. “I’m weak. I was weak. It won’t happen again.”
“You might wanna tell Renee. She’s pretty sure you’re breaking up with me right now because my daddy won’t let me go to prom with you.”
He chuckled and flipped up on his side. She tugged her nightgown down, suddenly embarrassed for some strange reason. The wetness between her legs and under her butt spurred her up. She grabbed some tissues, trying to get a good look at them in the darkened room after she’d dragged them between her legs. They were dark. She switched on the lamp.
“Oh, uh, sorry. That time of the month?” He sat, head hanging down already seeming to disengage from her.
“No. I think you hurt me.”
He got up and grabbed tissues then zipped up. “Did you grow your hymen back?” he quipped.
She frowned. “No, jerk. You’re…you know, kinda big. It hurts still, sometimes.” Pissed at his smug expression at that comment, she wadded the tissues up, wondering how she could sneak down the hall and do a proper clean up. She had blood, but not period blood. And she hurt pretty bad.
“Oh, baby.” He pulled her so close she heard his heartbeat. “I’m sorry.” He kissed her hair. “Forgive me?” He tilted her chin up and gave her the sad puppy dog eyes again.
“Yeah.” She pressed her nose into his chest. “But if you take her to prom I’ll lighten your load down there with my daddy’s hatchet.” She cupped his crotch. He jumped away from her and executed his usual nervous tick, running his palm around the back of his neck. She hated it, and him, and her own stupid self at that split second.
“All right, I’d better take off.” He moved past her toward the window.
“Wait.” She grabbed his arm. “Show me.”
He grinned and flipped his wrist over. She held hers next to it. The entwined pair of fancy capital letter Ds with stars matched more or less. “You’re my boyfriend, right Dominic?” she demanded, not letting go of his arm.
“Sure thing, sweets,” he claimed, lightly kissing her nose and winking before climbing out the window, making his practiced way down the trellis, then scurrying into the shadows. She touched her neck, tingly where he’d likely sucked another hickey on her, then got another twinge of pain between her legs. Limping, she snuck into the hall and grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet.
“Diana, honey?” Her father’s voice floated out from his room, sleepy but ever vigilant—or so he believed.
“Yeah, Daddy, sorry. I had, um, a bad dream. Got all sweaty. Getting a cold cloth.”
“Want some warm milk?” he asked.
She slumped in the bathroom doorway. “Yes, please. That would be great.”
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
Two Weeks Later
Diana clutched her books to her chest. Sweat beaded her skin but she didn’t bother swiping at it. She couldn’t move.
Renee had her arm linked through Dominic’s, grinning her perfectly white grin, flipping that stupid, flawless hair over her tanned shoulder. “Tell her, Dom.”
Dom blinked. “I’m taking Renee to prom.” He sounded like a robot. She frowned, focusing on him and not the slutty girl clinging to him.
“Oh?” She sensed the high school population swirling past them, taking it all in without seeming to do so.
“Yeah, honey, sorry.” Renee patted her arm.
Diana jerked out of her reach. “Forgot that bit about me lightening your load, did you, Dominic?”
“What is she talking about?” Renee frowned at her, then Dom, who had his mouth hanging open like a fool. Diana’s head cleared.
“Never mind, honey.” She spoke to Renee while looking straight at Dom. “It’s a dumb farm-girl thing. Catch you later, Love.” She gave a jaunty wave and forced her way through the crowd and out of the building, to her car, home, and into the barn where she saddled her horse and rode for what felt like hours. By the time she’d returned to the barn and wiped the horse down, her parents were frantic. Her sister stood next to them in the paddock, arms crossed. Diana stomped up to her and slapped her, hard. Jen didn’t make a sound.
“Diana!” Her father held her arm so she couldn’t do it again.
“It’s all right, Daddy. She knows she deserves it.” Diana wiped her stinging palm on her jeans, the hole in her chest aching like a rotten tooth. “You’re right about him, though. He’s bad. But I want you all to know that I’ve been having sex with Dominic Love since July.” The expression of surprise then horror in her father’s face, and the one of non-surprise, then hurt on her mother’s, gave her a grim satisfaction. “Yeah. So now you know. But we aren’t together anymore so he won’t be sneaking up the trellis into my bedroom to fuck me anymore.”
Her father made a sound that was dangerously close to a growl. Her mother touched his arm. “I’ve got this. Young lady, upstairs, now.”
“No, Mama. I’m gonna go over to Lisa’s to study for my algebra test.”
She left her parents and sister standing outside the barn, speechless. But she no longer cared. When she got home several hours later, the late spring evening was still warm enough to enjoy. Leaving her backpack in the car, she wandered over to the paddock, not eager to deal with her folks now that she’d calmed down.
“C’mere, Pepper.”
The animal trotted over, snorting and flicking his tail. There had been a time when she’d been a serious competitor on the barrel-racing circuit and she missed it. But her father’s tobacco base had barely weathered two bad seasons, severely reducing the family’s ability to do much more than pay the electric bill and feed everyone, including the horse. She’d thrown such a fit at the concept of selling the damn thing, her parents didn’t bring it up again.
Being near her horse soothed her. Lately, she wished she could sleep out there, breathing in the combined barn smells, listening to the sound of all the animals’ gentle snores. She scratched his muzzle and rubbed his neck, smiling when he went sideways so Diana could pat his flank.
“You’re so spoiled. But I love ya.” She pulled a carrot from a nearby bucket, laughing when the horse stuck his nose under her arm for more once he’d finished it.
Finally, figuring her daddy had gone to bed and she’d best go confront her mama, Diana narrowed her eyes noting something different about the back of the house. The trellis had been torn down, leaving a ghostly shadow on the wooden siding. She slouched toward the porch, swallowing yet more tears, a state she figured she’d best get used to now.
Chapter Nine
Now
Dom cradled the half-empty bottle to his chest and stared out over the dark, familiar expanse of grass between barn and the Brantley house. In the course of trying to come to terms with his current situation—effectively disowned from his tight family circle—he longed for a reconnection with Diana in the most irrational way possible.
“Yeah, right. As if she’d….” He spoke out loud into the darkened space, knocking back another slug of bourbon. The liquid burned more than usual going down. His father’s forearm chokehold must have damaged his throat. All temporary, of course. He’d been nearly throttled by too many angry men to count—most of them jealous boyfriends and, memorably, one legitimately pissed-off husband.
The onrushing
slew of mental images of Kent Lowery, the man he’d allowed into his emotional inner circle, overpowered him. The step he’d finally taken, thinking it would be the solution, the answer to his life-long inner turmoil, had sent him into this particular downward spiral. Once again, Dominic had no one but himself to blame for his current situation.
“What a clusterfuck,” he muttered, before deciding not to torture his poor, shredded esophagus with another drink. Glaring down at the bottle, he attempted to shove the horror that was the new state of his life out of his head. Between missing Kent, wishing he’d never met Kent, and now craving Diana in his arms again like some kind of junkie, he could hardly breathe.
He stood, hanging onto the rope above the haymow entrance and letting his torso dangle over the lawn. When he spotted a doe at the edge of the woods, her snout up to the night air, testing it for safety, he held the bottle up to the sky then took another slug, wincing when it worked past his shredded throat and spread its welcome warmth in his chest
“Here’s to you, Dominic Sean. You’ve done it again. Gone and fucked everything up, this time for good.” He barely recognized his own voice.
A cool breeze soothed his skin. He let his grip slip ever so slightly, wondering, with a sort of distant, objective temptation, what he’d break first when he let go.
Not if. When.
He ducked back inside and dropped to his butt. His leg burned like fire—a fine complement to his throbbing nose, eye and cheek. Not to mention the agony in his windpipe. The shower had helped clear his head some but had brought a fresh burst of pain to his brutalized skin. He allowed a moment to wonder where Kent was, what he might be doing. Considering he’d obliterated his phone days ago, Dominic didn’t even have any way of knowing. Odd, considering they’d spent the better part of the last eight months not going more than a couple of hours without chatting.
He heaved the bottle against the wall with a loud curse, relishing the crash before curling up on his side, miserable, and realizing that this could be it—the proverbial final straw. Visions of all the people who still loved him flashed across his vision. His brothers, sister, mother, all of them—they’d be sad, sure. But they’d get over it.