Heath paced in front of the refrigerator. “If you hate the farm so much, then why stay?”
“I don’t hate the farm,” said Matt. “I hate the debt I’m in. I’m not selling the whole thing. Just fifty acres. Maybe eighty.”
“Fifty acres?” Heath dragged a hand over his face. “You’re killing us. We need the land. How else are we going to grow enough food to make money at the markets?”
“We’re not,” said Matt. “If I sell this land, I can pay off the mortgage. I can pay off my school loans. I can put money aside for Cathy’s college. And then if we can keep the farm turning a profit, then maybe we can crawl up out of this hole that Dad dug us into.”
It actually sounded reasonable to Cathy.
But Heath was still pacing.
“I don’t know why I’m explaining myself to you,” said Matt. “You’re nothing but some gypsy bastard that my father felt sorry for. I don’t owe you shit.”
Heath stopped moving. He faced Matt. “Why you got to make it about that? You always got to put me in my place. You think if you do it enough, you’ll convince me I’m worthless?”
“You are worthless. You’re a sack of shit. I’d do anything to get rid of you.”
“Right,” said Heath. “Because you’d rather be taking care of some ugly bitch who’s spread her legs for half the town and raising some kid that’s not even yours. I’m a burden, but that cow and her spawn deserve play rooms.”
“Shut up about Fran,” said Matt. He picked up an empty beer bottle from the counter.
“Fran?” said Heath. “You said my mother was a whore. What do you think she is? You’re just like your old man, aren’t you, Matt?”
And then Matt smashed the beer bottle onto the counter.
Shards sprayed everywhere.
Matt held the bottle by its neck, pointing the jagged end at Heath. “I’m going to tell you one more time. Get out of my fucking house.”
“It shouldn’t even be your house,” said Heath.
Matt leaped across the kitchen, slashing with the broken bottle.
There was blood suddenly.
Blood splattering.
Heath screamed.
Matt yelled.
Cathy jumped at both of them, trying to stop it.
But she couldn’t tell who was who or what was going on. She was yelling both their names, screaming herself hoarse, pulling on Matt, trying to get him away from Heath.
And then Matt shook her off.
He dropped the bottle. He was shaking.
Heath lay on the linoleum. He wasn’t moving. There was blood everywhere.
“Fuck,” said Matt.
Heath drew in a noisy breath.
“Fuck,” said Matt. He walked out of the kitchen.
Cathy heard the door slam. The engine of a car starting.
* * *
Heath watched as Cathy applied the last of the bandages to his wounds. Most of them were on his arms and hands. He’d thrown them up as protection when Matt came at him. But a few of them were on his chest and torso. Even a tiny one on his chin. Luckily, none of them were that deep.
He’d been afraid. He’d felt like he was swimming in his own blood. He’d worried that Matt had cut a major artery or something. That he was bleeding to death.
But he was okay.
Cathy had cried over him while she cleaned him up.
Now he drew her into his arms, holding her gingerly so as not to hurt himself too much.
She kissed his forehead. The tip of his nose. His lips.
Then she stood up and led him down the hallway from the upstairs bathroom to her room. She shut the door. She kissed him again.
Her lips and tongue were sweet, even though he was in pain. He wanted to kiss her forever.
She pulled her shirt over her head.
He was surprised. “Matt—”
“He won’t be home until later,” she said. “And he’ll be drunk. He won’t know you’re here.”
She reached behind and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall away.
And there they were again. Her breasts. He let out a little sigh, and he covered one of them with his hand.
She shut her eyes.
He kissed her.
She tugged him down onto the bed. She unbuttoned his pants.
“I didn’t… I mean, I got them, but I don’t have them here.” He swallowed. “The condoms, I mean.”
She got up and went to her dresser. “I got some.” And she tossed them on the bed. “I just thought maybe you wouldn’t, and I didn’t want…”
He picked up the small, square package. Three lubricated condoms, it said.
She took it away from him. She put it on her bedside table. “Touch me,” she said. “Touch me like you did before.”
He did his best. He put his mouth on her breasts. He kissed her nipples. He ran his fingers over the swell over her stomach, traced her rib cage. She was soft everywhere. She was small. He felt hulking next to her tiny form, like he might smother her, hurt her on accident. So he was as gentle as he could be.
But she didn’t make as much noise as last time.
Heath guessed she was afraid Fran would hear.
He missed the noises.
Cathy touched his chest, careful to avoid the places where he’d been cut. Her fingers were hesitant. He liked them. They were feather soft, barely brushing him, making his skin contract in goose bumps.
She moved her hand lower, raking her hand through the hair on his stomach, making him suck in breath, and then her hands were at his zipper.
He licked his lips. He felt nervous. He’d never been naked with anyone. This was Cathy. If there was anyone he trusted, it was her. But it was scary.
She unzipped him.
Then there was awkward fumbling, both of them trying to get off his pants.
She collided with his bandages more than once, making him flinch back, making her apologize.
And somewhere in the middle of it, he decided that she shouldn’t be wearing pants either, but he was clumsier at getting hers off.
So it seemed like they thrashed around on the bed, accidentally bumping into each other for a very long time. And when they were finally both in their underwear, lying back down in each other’s arms, he was half afraid that he’d completely lost his hard on, because he hadn’t even been thinking about sex, not really. It had been such an ordeal to get their pants off.
But he pressed himself against her, and it was there. And everything was glorious, because there was nothing between him and her skin except the thin cotton of his boxers.
He gasped. He pulled her close and kissed her hard.
And that hurt, because he was covered in wounds. He cringed.
She caressed his face, stroking his stubble. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.
“Of me?”
“Of…” She looked tiny and vulnerable. Her eyes were so wide.
He wanted to protect her more than anything. He felt like he had to. By taking off her clothes in front of him, she’d offered herself up to him for safety, and he couldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
“I’m afraid it’s going to hurt,” she said.
Did that happen to girls? Maybe he’d heard that. Goddamn it, why didn’t he know anything about this?
He kissed her forehead. “I’ll stop. If it hurts, I’ll stop.”
“No.”
“No?” Why would she say that? He couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her.
“Because if you stop, then it’ll just hurt the next time. I think it has to hurt the first time. I think you should…”
Heath grimaced. This whole thing was starting to seem less appealing. He was going to hurt her? She was going to suffer through it while he did it?
“And we should put something down in case I bleed,” she said.
Blood? She was going to bleed? He rubbed his forehead. “You know, you don’t have to do this for me. I’m not…” He stared at the ceiling. “We don’t have to do it at
all.”
“I want to,” she said. She got up and yanked a towel off of a hook on the door. She laid it down on the bed.
He moved out of the way to let her. “Really? Because I’m not sure if I do.”
What he was enjoying was watching her bare breasts bounce around as she moved. That was… mesmerizing.
She lay back down on the towel and put her head on his shoulder. “Gotta have a first time sometime. Might as well get it over with.”
He shifted, propping himself up so that he was looking down at her. “I don’t know if I want you to feel like that.” Getting it over with didn’t sound like she found the thought of it appealing.
She put her hand on his crotch.
His eyes slammed shut. He let out a little noise of surprise.
She peeled his boxers down, and his cock popped out, pointing straight at her.
They both stared at it.
“Cathy…”
But she wrapped her hand around him.
He groaned.
She guided his hand under her underwear, pushing him between her legs. “Feel,” she whispered. “I want it.”
His fingers slid against her. She was slippery down there. Wet.
And her hand moved on his cock, stroking him.
“Okay,” he managed. “I’m totally cool with doing it.”
She giggled.
He kissed her again, her mouth eager under his. He tugged at her panties, and they were both naked, their bodies close, her skin warm against him.
It was nice.
Really nice.
She gave him one of the condoms.
His fingers shook when he tore open the wrapper, and it took him a couple of times to get it go on right. He tried it backwards once, but then he figured it out. The lubrication got on his fingers. It felt waxy.
He knelt between her legs.
He kissed her again. Both her nipples. Her neck.
Then he looked at her.
She bit her lip. She still looked afraid.
“I don’t know,” he breathed.
She grabbed his cock. She guided him into her. “Do it.” She closed her eyes.
And so he did. He pushed into her body slowly.
And it was… it was absolutely the most fucking fantastic thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. She was soft and welcoming and snug around him. Shivers went through his body. He moaned.
And then he remembered that he was possibly hurting her.
His eyes snapped open.
She let out a slow breath. “It’s not that bad.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t make me stop, he thought, hating himself for it, but knowing stopping would nearly kill him. Already, he was itching to thrust. His cock was pulsing at him. He wanted to move in her body.
“Don’t stop,” she said.
He made his first shallow thrust. It was earth shatteringly good.
She made a sound, strangled, high pitched.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“Uh huh,” she murmured.
He moved again. He felt her hips move with him, cradling him. They were connected. He was in her.
He gazed into her eyes, and she looked back.
“You’re mine, Heath Galloway,” she said. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” he gasped. “I’m yours.”
* * *
Cathy gazed down at Heath’s sleeping face. He looked so peaceful and young, curled up next to her, one hand possessively on one of her breasts. She tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear.
Well.
That was done then. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. And she didn’t feel any different.
Maybe a little sore.
All those romance novels she’d read where the girl felt a little stab of pain that faded into some kind of mind-blowing pleasure? They’d lied. Sex had hurt like fuck. The whole time.
Maybe it was a little less at the end. Or maybe she’d just gotten kind of numb towards the end. She wasn’t sure. She was sure that it hadn’t felt good. Like, not good in the slightest. And she couldn’t even blame Heath for it, because she didn’t think he could have done anything differently.
After all, everything that had led up to it had been really amazing. It had all felt awesome.
Maybe it was only because it was the first time. Everyone said the first time sucked. Maybe the second time would be better.
Heath stirred next to her, muttering in his sleep.
She kissed his forehead. Poor thing. At least he seemed to like it. She couldn’t believe what Matt had done to him, going at him with that broken bottle like that. She’d been so afraid that he’d killed Heath.
When she realized he was alive, that was the moment she’d realized that she was going to have sex with him. She’d thought, If I can get him cleaned up, and he doesn’t have to go to the hospital, we’re doing it.
And he’d been okay. So, they had.
She was glad. Not just because she got it over with, but because it made her feel closer to Heath, and it reminded her of everything she knew deep down. That she and Heath belonged to each other. When he’d been inside her, she’d felt complete. It had hurt, but the pain had been okay. Even the blood had been okay, though she wasn’t sure how she was going to explain she’d ruined her best towel. If it took a little pain and blood for the two of them to be fused into one being, then that was what it took.
And she’d make love to him again, over and over, even if it never felt good and it always hurt like that. Because when he was in her body, she was whole. He finished her.
She’d been confused before about the whole Eli thing, but she wasn’t confused anymore.
She understood her feelings toward Eli now. They weren’t anything like her feelings toward Heath. But they were useful feelings. Now Cathy saw what was important. And she knew what she had to do.
Heath wouldn’t understand, but in the end, he’d see. It was the only way.
* * *
Cathy set down the tiny black box on the counter at the pawn shop. “I have these. How much could you give me for them?”
The man opened the box and looked at the glittering earrings. He let out a low whistling breath. “Where’d you get these?”
“Are they worth a lot?”
He told her.
She bit her lip and nodded. “I’ll take the money.”
2013
Gage was unlocking Thera’s door again. She hadn’t been out in days. He usually just opened the door to hand her a plate of food, which she had to eat alone in her room. She guessed that being invited to dinner the first night had been a rare occurrence.
She ran to the door. “Gage?”
There was no answer. The door pushed open. Gage glared at her.
“You’ve got to help me,” she said. “Please. Call my father. Tell him where I am.”
“That’s why I’m coming to get you,” said Gage. “Heath’s going to call your dad.”
It was the longest sentence she’d ever heard him say. “He is?”
“You gonna come willingly, or do I have to drag you again?”
She straightened her shoulders. “Why should I do anything willingly? I’m being held prisoner. Surely you can see that isn’t right. Heath is insane.”
“He’s a hard man,” said Gage, “but he’s good in his own way. He’s like a father to me. I know he won’t hurt you. Not really.”
“Denying me my freedom is hurting me,” she said. “Please. You’re the only one who seems like a decent person.”
“Decent person? Not a retarded lackey?” he said pointedly. And then he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of the room.
“I’m sorry I said that,” she said, struggling to keep her feet moving at the same pace as Gage. “I was only afraid and angry. This situation doesn’t bring out the best in me.”
He didn’t say anything. He tightened his grip on her.
She bit her lip. It hurt. “Okay, okay, Gage. I’ll walk on my own. L
et go of me.”
They were at the top of the steps. She could see the doorway to the outside from here. Maybe she could make a break for it, shoot down the stairs and out the door.
“I don’t think so,” said Gage. He held onto her all the way down the steps.
Heath and Linton were in the den.
Gage threw her down on a settee and stood next to her, blocking her path out of the room. Thera could see the way things were now. Heath was the brains of the operation, Linton was the sadist who enjoyed it, and Gage was the muscle. She was never going to get out of here.
“Well, hello, Catherine,” said Heath. “I hope you’re well.”
“Well?” she said. “I’ve been kidnapped by a bunch of sickos.”
“Sicko?” Heath considered. “Yes, I suppose that’s about accurate.” He sat down next to her. “He stole her from me, you know? Your father. I can’t forgive him for that. I don’t even want to. I just want him to hurt, the way I hurt. If you’re here, if you leave him the way that Cathy left me, then maybe that’ll hurt him. What do you think?”
“But I didn’t leave him,” I said. “You’re keeping me captive here.”
Heath shrugged. “It’s really all the same, isn’t it? I don’t see why it matters if you’re here willingly or not.” He took a phone out of his pocket. Thera recognized it. It was her cell phone. He dialed.
He had it on speaker phone, and Thera could hear it ringing.
Her father picked up. “Thera? Thera baby, is that you? Where are you, sweetheart?”
“Dad, I’m in West Virginia. I went to see Heath. I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you.”
Heath laughed, a low chuckle. “Nice to hear your voice again, Eli.”
“Heath?”
“Your daughter doesn’t look a thing like you, you know? She’s all Cathy.”
“You…” Eli seemed to be at a loss for words. “You bastard.”
“People have been calling me that my whole life,” said Heath. “Throw some racial slurs in there while you’re at it, huh?”
“What are you doing with her? What are you doing with Thera?”
Heath smiled. “Doing with her? Nothing. Nothing at all. She’s very comfortable. Catherine, tell your father we haven’t hurt a hair on your pretty little head.”
“I’m okay,” Thera said.
“But I’m not going to let her go,” said Heath.
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