“You want something?” said Eli. “You want money? I have money, Heath. I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Really?” Heath leaned back, relishing this. “Beg me, Eli.”
“Please,” said Eli. “Give her back. I’ll do anything. I beg you.”
Heath closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Oh, that was very nice. Maybe I’ll call you back tomorrow and get you to do it again.”
Heath hung the phone up. Then he took the battery and the SIM card out of it. “He’s probably going to call the police. I hear they can track cell phones.”
Thera shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why would you do this?”
“I thought you’d already figured that out,” said Heath. “I’m a sicko.” He smiled at her. “I went crazy when she died, you know.”
“But why now? Why me? After all this time, it doesn’t make sense,” said Thera.
“You’re eighteen,” said Heath. “That’s how old she was when she died. But I guess you knew that, didn’t you?”
She hadn’t.
“No.” Heath’s voice was like silk. “You didn’t know. How odd.”
“Dad doesn’t talk about her much,” she said. She looked up at Heath. “What was my mother like?”
“She was the cruelest person I ever met,” said Heath. “She was strong. She was beautiful. She was confused and crazy and reckless. She looked just like you.” His voice cracked. He stood up. His lip was trembling.
He turned on Linton. “What are you looking at?”
Linton’s eyes widened. He cowered. “I’m not. I wasn’t—”
Heath lifted his hand, heavy with rings, and backhanded the boy. The sound of the slap echoed in the quiet room.
Linton whimpered.
“Don’t mock me with your eyes, boy,” Heath growled. He left the room, slamming the door behind him.
Thera tried to melt into the settee.
He was insane.
* * *
Linton perched on the edge of her bed. “You don’t know what it’s like to live with him. You don’t know the things he’s done to me.” His eyes flitted around the room, as if he was afraid that Heath could hear him. “Sometimes, I think my mother killed herself just to get away from him.”
“Did he hit her too?” said Thera.
“I don’t know,” said Linton. “I don’t remember. He hits me, though.”
“A lot?”
“When he drinks,” said Linton. “Sometimes when he’s sober. He’s impossible to predict. Sometimes he’s fine, but other times, he goes absolutely crazy.”
“So why stay here?” said Thera. “Why not run away? You and I could go together. We could get away from him.”
“You’d come with me?” said Linton. “You wouldn’t try to get away from me once we were out of this house?”
“Of course not,” she said, but inwardly, she panicked. She kept forgetting that Linton was just as crazy as his father. He was cruel too. Maybe it was because he’d been raised by that man. She didn’t know. But it didn’t change the fact that she had to be wary of Linton. Still, if the two of them could get away, she could worry about dealing with Linton later. He had to be easier than dealing with Heath.
Linton eyed her. “I don’t believe you. We’d get away, and you’d abandon me. You don’t actually like me. You’re only pretending because you want my help.”
“I like you,” she said, desperation seeping through her.
He shook his head. “You’re a bad liar.” He got off the bed and walked to the window. “I hate my father. But he did get you here for me. I couldn’t have written those letters without him.”
Her father had been right. Heath had written the facebook messages. So, who was Linton, if not the fun-loving and interesting guy she’d chatted with? And if Heath had written those messages, did that mean that guy was hidden somewhere inside him? Was that why her mother had loved him? How could her mother have ever loved him?
“I’m not good with that kind of thing,” said Linton. “I don’t know how to seem… normal. My father says I’m soft like my mother. But I’m not soft.” He turned to her, his smile vaguely demented. “My father just doesn’t understand my strength.”
She swallowed. “Right. Well, I would understand.”
“Would you?” Linton walked over to the bed where she was sitting. He ran his knuckles over her cheek—a caress. Then his fingers traveled over her lips.
She shied away from him. “Linton. I’m your cousin.”
Linton smiled. “That’s right, you are. We have so much in common, Thera. We need to stick together.”
A tendril of horror wound its way up her spine. What the hell was going to happen to her here?
1993
The Linton house was enormous and modern. It was shaped like an “L,” with a three-story tower jutting up from the rest of the house, a long stretch of window-lined rooms. It was tucked into a valley, mountains looking down on it. The front lawn was landscaped—sculpted shrubs and autumn flowers. There was a pool in the backyard. Red and yellow leaves floated on its surface.
Isabella was lounging by the pool when Eli finished giving Cathy the tour.
“You two given up hiding that you’re madly in love with each other yet?” Isabella asked.
Eli blushed.
Cathy laughed. “Who was hiding anything? Not me. I’m an open book.”
“No,” said Eli. “You’re impossible to figure out.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“But I like that about you.”
Isabella got out of her chair. “I guess you two want privacy.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Cathy. “Stay right where you are.”
“I was going inside anyway,” said Isabella. “It’s a little too chilly out here.” She pulled her sweater tighter and started for the house. “Oh, Cathy, do you want to come shopping with me and some of the girls next week?”
Cathy knew what she meant by “some of the girls.” Isabella had taken to hanging out with the clique of doctors’ and lawyers’ daughters at their school. “No, I couldn’t. I don’t really have much extra cash right now.”
“Too bad,” said Isabella. “Let me know if you change your mind.” She disappeared into the house.
Cathy and Eli watched her go.
Then they were quiet.
He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the still surface of the pool.
Cathy took a deep breath. She closed her eyes. And then she pressed herself into Eli, finding his lips and kissing him.
This time, she lingered. She opened her mouth to him, teasing his tongue with her own.
It was different than kissing Heath. It was… lighter. Sweet like sugar. Not achingly, deeply pleasant. In some ways, that was a relief.
Eli crushed her close, one hand splayed against the small of her back, one hand tangled in her hair.
When she pulled away from him, his eyes were still closed.
“You taste like the wind,” he murmured.
She felt shy. He had a way with words, that was for sure. She tugged away from him. “You can’t be with me, though, can you, Eli? I mean, not really. I can’t even afford to go shopping with your sister.”
“You want to go?” asked Eli. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He took out several bills.
“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” she said.
He pressed the money into her hand. “Take it. I want to give it to you.”
And she smiled, feeling victorious.
* * *
Eli screeched the car to a halt, because Heath was in the middle of the road. He was lit up, the setting sun at his back, his hair a brilliant halo around his face. He looked like an avenging angel.
Cathy opened the door the car. “Heath—”
Eli put his hand on her arm. “You don’t have to do that, Cathy. You don’t have to soothe him. He’ll either accept what’s going on between us or he won’t.”
She’d been at Eli’s house. Th
at was why she was so late.
But the money he’d given her was in her pocket. Safe.
And Cathy knew she was doing the right thing. But she had to figure out how to keep Heath from freaking out the way he was doing right now.
“Eli, just let me talk to him,” she said.
“No,” said Eli. “I don’t think you should be alone with him. He looks dangerous. I want to stay with you.”
She rolled her eyes. Like Eli was any kind of match for Heath.
But Eli was already getting out of the car and approaching Heath. “You’re in the way.”
Heath’s hands were clenched in fists. He was taking long, shuddering breaths.
Shit. Cathy got out of the car and ran between them. She touched Heath’s chest, stroking him. “Don’t. Please. Calm down.”
He looked at her, and there was heartbreak all over his face.
She felt like her heart was breaking too. She thought she might cry. She turned back to Eli. “Let me talk to him.”
Eli eyed Heath warily. “What if he hurts you?”
“He would never—”
“You’re the one I’m going to hurt.” Heath’s voice was gravelly. “You stay away from her.”
“He gave me a ride home, Heath,” she said, stroking his chest again, pleading with him. “Just calm down. Calm down.” She looked at Eli. “You need to go. Go, now. He will hurt you.”
Eli took a step back. He looked at her hand on Heath’s chest. A trouble expression crossed his blue eyes. “I guess you don’t have any illusions about me hurting him.” He looked at the ground. “Of course not.”
“I’ll call you later,” she said.
“You’ll what?” said Heath.
Damn it. Why did this have to be so difficult?
Eli got back in his car.
He backed out of the driveway, and she and Heath watched him go, the fading sunlight reflecting on the shiny paint job.
“Where have you been? What have you been doing? Were you with him the whole time?” Heath was agonized.
She hated for him to feel like that. She took both of his hands. “It was for school. We’re working on a project. I’m going to have to be at his house a lot.”
“Don’t lie to me,” said Heath.
“I’m not,” she said.
He thrust both of his hands into his hair. “You made me say I was yours. But you never said you were mine, did you?”
She touched his face. She ran her fingers over the stubble on his chin. “I’m yours.”
“Cathy, you’ve been with him all evening. For hours.”
“For school,” she said. She took him by the hand and pulled him with her. She led him to the tenant house, up the steps of the porch.
“What are you doing?” he said.
“Let’s go to your room,” she said. She started up the steps.
He hesitated, but then he followed her. When they got to the second floor, he followed her into his room. He shut the door.
She pulled off her shirt.
“Cathy, you can’t just…”
He always got stupid when she was half naked. She had to make him like that again. He couldn’t question things. She unclasped her bra.
“He thinks there’s something between you,” said Heath. “I can see the way he looks at you. He looks at you like he thinks he owns you and—”
She put his hand on her breast.
He stopped talking. He shut his eyes.
She kissed him. “I’m yours, Heath. Yours.”
He let out a shaky breath. He ran his thumb over her nipple.
That was bliss. She sighed.
He rested his forehead against hers. “I couldn’t understand how you could do it. Not after…”
“After we made love?” She peered into his dark, dark eyes. “I didn’t. I’m not with him.”
“Why does he have to take you to school every day? He wants you.”
“Well, I want you.” She pushed aside his shirt, slid a seeking hand under the waist of his jeans until she found him. He hardened at her touch.
He grunted. “Trust me, he thinks—”
“Stop talking about him and make love to me,” she interrupted, and she put her mouth on his.
And finally… he did.
She lay twined in his arms afterwards, both of them breathing hard, and two things were clear to her.
One was that sex did not become phenomenally pleasurable the second time, but that it did hurt less.
And the other was that she was tied to Heath Galloway with unbreakable bonds, stronger than the strongest iron, tougher than the toughest rope.
* * *
“You got a smoke?” said Saul. He was on the porch of the tenant house.
Heath dug out his pack and tapped a cigarette out. He handed it to Saul. Then he popped one in his mouth.
“That the boss’ sister I saw coming out of here earlier?” said Saul. “She the one making all that noise?”
Heath lit his cigarette. “Yeah.” He handed his lighter to Saul.
Saul shook his head, lighting the smoke. “Boy, you got any idea what you’re doing?”
“Not really.” Heath took a long drag.
Saul laughed. “Yeah, it don’t seem like it, I gotta say.”
“I’m in love with her.” Smoke trickled out with his words.
“Sure you are.”
Heath rubbed his face. He was royally fucked was what it was. He knew there was more to that shit with Eli Linton than Cathy was saying. But goddamn if it seemed to matter when she was kissing him. When she was fucking him.
Saul flicked ash onto the porch. “How ‘bout a hand of cards, boy?”
“Sure,” said Heath. He was starting to turn into a halfway decent poker player if he didn’t say so himself.
* * *
Cathy awoke to the sound of the phone ringing. She sat up. It was still dark outside.
Someone else would answer it. She lay back down.
The answering machine picked up.
Whoever was calling hung up.
The phone began ringing again.
Fine.
Cathy dragged herself out of bed and went downstairs to answer the phone. “Hello?”
“They took her, Cathy. They took her, and there was so much blood.”
“Matt?” she asked. Her brother’s voice was thick and slurred, as if he was drunk. But he also sounded agonized, as if he’d been crying.
“You got to get to the hospital, Cathy. It’s Fran. Oh god, it’s Fran. I think I killed her.”
And the phone went dead in her hand.
Cathy swallowed. Get to the hospital? Had Matt forgotten she didn’t drive? She needed to get Eli to make good on that promise to take her to the DMV for a license. But that didn’t help her now.
She went back upstairs and threw on some clothes, pulled her hair into a ponytail.
There was only one way she knew of to get to the hospital. But she didn’t think that Matt was going to like it.
She darted out of the farmhouse, running down to the tenant house in the darkness. She was surprised to see that lights were still on downstairs. She knocked on the door.
“Ho there!” called a voice.
She let herself in. The house was full of smoke. She coughed.
“Who’s there?” Heath appeared in the doorway to the living room, shirtless, holding a can of Miller Lite. “Cathy?”
“You’re drinking?”
He raised an eyebrow. “That a problem?”
“Can you drive?” She hugged herself. “I need to go to the hospital. Matt just called. Something happened to Fran. He’s freaking.”
“Shit,” said Heath.
“I know you don’t like her—”
“That doesn’t mean I want her hurt.” He scratched the back of his head. “Let me get a shirt. You got the truck keys?”
“I… I’ll get them. Meet me by the truck?”
He nodded.
“You sure you’re okay to drive?
”
“Yeah,” he said.
The drive to the hospital seemed to take a long time. Heath flipped around the radio stations until she made him stop. It didn’t seem like the right time to be listening to music.
But then it was quiet except for the sound of the motor and the wheels on the pavement.
She fingered the edge of her shirt. “You stay up drinking a lot?”
“No,” said Heath. “We work early.”
“What were you doing?”
“They’re teaching me to play poker,” he said.
“Poker.” She was nervous. “But isn’t gambling, you know, messed up? Can’t you get hooked on it, like it’s addictive?”
“Maybe,” said Heath. He shot her a glance. “Why are you asking me this?”
“I don’t know.” She sucked in breath. Matt had sounded really upset. She’d never heard him that upset. Not even after Daddy had died. And she thought—suddenly—of Heath hurling her father down the stairs. She shivered. “Do you ever think about what you’re going to do with your life?”
“Beyond being with you and making you happy, not really. Where is this coming from, Cathy?”
“Well, what would it be like, Heath? I mean, if we had the life you envision? Would you go out all night and play poker with the guys? Get drunk? Come home and slap me around?”
“I would never hurt you.” He reached for her. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”
“Somebody’s got to be practical, Heath. You can’t stay on this farm. You have to go back to school. You have to do something with yourself.”
“I don’t want to go back to school,” said Heath. “I was no good at it anyway. I cut class all the time. I failed all my tests. It didn’t matter.”
“But now you’re trapped. You’re stuck on the farm, and you can’t get out.”
“I like the farm,” he said.
“Maybe I don’t,” she said. “Maybe I want to get away. Far, far away. Maybe I want to live in an apartment on the fifteenth floor of a building in Manhattan, and I want to take the subway to work, and I never want to come back here.”
He didn’t say anything.
God. Why had she blurted it all out like that? That wasn’t how it was supposed to work. She was supposed to wait, wait until she had it all set up, until she had the money.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Stupid. She was so stupid. She was always ruining everything.
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