by Cage, Aria
He kisses her, holding that stupid box I wish I could smash his head in with. He then takes a step back and looks her up and down, shaking his head. “It was fun fucking every piece of you, Charlotte.”
“Give it back to me,” she stutters. I can’t believe she isn’t running from him. Instead, she has her hand reached out. What in flying fuck is she doing?
“Remember, love, you may leave me for this guy, but I will always own you.” He shakes the box in his hand, and I realize then, that is the item that she wants. The jerk then winks at me, “As for you… you may have fucked her all the way to jail, but she will always think of my cock inside her instead of yours.”
I lose it. There is nothing but rage and the need to hurt.
I have no idea how I got to him so fast, but he was below me and under my fist. Blood sprayed, and I had a hunger for it. The pen taught me many things, and one of them was how to fight for your life or show you weren’t to be messed with. I was showing him both and I wasn’t holding back. I’m not weak anymore, and he will know this when he tries to mess with what’s mine again.
I only get a fifth punch in before I’m knocked from the side and tackled to the ground. My shoulder burns like nothing else, and I vaguely hear the ringing of screams and shouts before I can see past the blue shirt packed with muscle holding me down. I see Paul holding his face as blood streams steadily from under his hand, while the other hand is pointing at Charlie and then me.
“I will ruin him and you. You both will pay for this!”
“Where is it?” she’s screaming above him while an elderly woman and a man is holding her back. She has the box in her hand; it’s hanging open and empty. “Where is it?!”
Paul laughs, laughs like a lunatic who has won.
A sickness and anger brews within me and I no longer care about Paul. I just want to get to Charlie who’s bawling and shaking while the elderly woman tries to hold her in her supporting arms. The man heads to the bleeding Paul, asking if he needs help. Who cares about him?
I try again and again to push the big guy off me. I need to be with her, but he won’t relent. I can’t even see who he is, to see if I know him. But he knows me, my name, I can hear him use it and worse. He is trying to calm me down, but I don’t hear much past the other thing I can hear… the distinct sound of a siren getting stronger.
Someone called the cops. Fuck.
AGAIN, I WATCH BEHIND a blur of tears as a sheriff of Beaver Dam hauls Nate into the back of his squad car because of me, from protecting me.
When the fuck will this all stop? When will I stop hurting the ones I love? Even if I stopped breathing, I would hurt someone.
There was nothing I could say that Sheriff Noel would listen to, or more to the point, change his pigheaded mind. He said he had been waiting for Nate to slip up, and this was his chance to finally extract the justice he believed Nate deserved. Noel never did believe us when we told him all those years ago, when he was a fresh deputy, that his mentor was a paedophile; he just couldn’t deal. Now that he is sheriff, he’s taking his revenge out on Nate.
Daddy had everyone fooled; being the sheriff once brought a lot of trust from a community that prided them on such things. He was a law-enforcing, churchgoing man, who tragically lost his wife and was left heartbroken. To then bring up a disturbed daughter who had a way-too-close relationship with her poor neighbor boy, the son by a drug deal. It was a moot point to try to explain the truth; no one believed us, or Nona.
Again, Nona was going to be going through the pain of seeing her grandson possibly going to prison. The only way I can keep him from going, is to tell some ugly truths that I never wanted anyone to know, not even Nate. I just hope his parole officer can help me, that he will believe me and my sins.
Soon enough the town will be talking about our past all over again, and if Paul has anything to do with it, he would have shared my diary with everyone; pages filled with my secrets, and Nate’s.
I don’t use it much anymore; I haven’t been able to since I moved in with Paul. You can’t keep a constant diary around someone like him. So I hid it in an old timber box I found at a flea market, The Vintage Bazaar. It has stayed locked away in the bottom of my drawer ever since, only to come out when I was in desperate need to survive. Stupid!
I came here with the past behind me. Most in town don’t recognize me, and those who do avoid me, or have forgotten the spotlight Nate and I brought upon everyone we loved. We were lucky in a way to be under age, red tape hid most from the world, leaving gossip to take hold.
Now they would know. If Paul didn’t tell, I was going to have to—it was the only way to save Nate.
NONA, OF COURSE, WELCOMED me into her home. She didn’t ask too many questions, but she knew it was serious. I think she believes I’ll tell her in time―she’s wrong. I will never tell.
Her only rule is that we don’t sleep together. I get it; I do, but Nate doesn’t. He argued with her about the difference in allowing me to sleep in his bed almost every morning, to now sharing a bed all night. Her argument was, if he couldn’t see the difference, he was too dumb to have a girl stay in his bed all night.
I love her. She is never afraid, and we both need that, Nate and me. He pretends to never be afraid, but he is. Maybe if Nona knew the truth, she would be afraid, too. Maybe she would ship them all away from me, leaving me all alone. No, I won’t tell. I won’t tell because I’m so very afraid of so very much.
Nate is setting up a makeshift bed for the night, even though Nona would prefer he took the sofa until she got a spare bed here. I think she would put the boys together, and I hate that I’m driving Nate from his room, though I do suspect he won’t stay in that makeshift anyway. As soon as we hear her bedroom door close, Nate will be by my side and holding me tightly. She has never come in his room; she believes a young man deserves his privacy, but I wonder if it will change now I’m here.
“Your shirt could fit three of me,” I say holding my improvised nightgown out to show my point. He drops his pillow and turns to look at me and I can’t help my eyes from grazing over his lean hips and the twin line that beg me to look lower, but I dare not.
Nate chuckles and saunters toward me. Man, that boy can saunter, and in his trunks, he begs for more than just a look.
Nate is almost a man, and something about that makes me shudder all the way to my core.
He pulls at my shirt, or his shirt. “Maybe, you could fit me in there.” His brow rises, and I giggle. Freaking giggle and he grins like he has won. Smug ass. “Maybe”―he steps closer, but keeps the tee stretched out. I have nothing underneath; I left it behind and won’t retrieve until it’s safe. So when he steps closer and looks down, he sees everything. “Maybe we could just get rid of it. You don’t need it.”
“I think Nona would disagree with that.”
He chuckles and drops the material; it floats back against my skin, sending goose pimples across my flesh.
“I think Nona would disagree with almost all my thoughts and suggestions right now. In fact, I know she would disagree, and yet I don’t give a shit.”
I laugh once before he is crushing me to the bed and kissing me the way I like, hungry and loving. I want to always be his, and he mine. When we are like this, I feel the power in our feelings, the power in what we give up for one another.
For the first time, I see a real beautiful future for Nate and I, and it’s amazing how much that can change a way I will take him tonight. Despite my lack of belongings, despite the betrayal to Nona’s rules, tonight is the beginning of our lives, and I couldn’t be happier.
FOR THE FIRST TIME in years I didn’t wake to her sneaking into my room like a scared kitten. I didn’t go to sleep worrying about her, and I didn’t go to sleep praying he wouldn’t touch her. I can’t remember a time before where I had that. Now it seems like my life has committed that to normal. Not anymore. All night she’s been wrapped tightly around me just the way I like it. Her long hair is caught around my forear
m and her breath is tickling my nipple. My white tee shines brightly against her silky skin in the morning sun; this is exactly how I like it to be. This would have to be the most perfect morning of my entire life. My scared kitten has taken a huge risk, and I’m so proud of her. I know now that we will grow. She will prosper and be the wild tiger I know and want her to be.
To some she looks tiny, cute, and maybe helpless―to me, she may be cute and tiny, but she isn’t helpless; she has a wild, strong heart and a bright soul. That’s why I love her; that’s why I know one day I won’t be able to call her a kitten, and I wonder if that will be soon.
“You snore,” she murmurs. “I think you should take the bed on the floor, or better yet, the couch.”
I can see her fighting the smirk, and I can’t hold back the laughter before I roll on top of her and place my hand over her mouth to muffle her squeals. I want to touch her, tickle her, but I’ve run out of limbs; one is holding me up and the other stopping her squeals from bringing Nona to my room for the first time in years. So I muffle her mouth with mine and my hand takes her soft thigh.
No longer is she squealing, no longer is she fighting me, instead she kisses me back and arching to meet my body. No, I don’t think she will be my kitten much longer.
Nona never comes to my room, but Davey, on the other hand, had no reservations to my boundaries, and this morning is a prime example as to why I need to convince Nona I need a lock in here. Davey burst through the door in his favorite blue striped pajamas, clapping happily. He looks at us, bites his lips and laughs, clapping harder as we have been caught in a compromising position. A minute later and I would have been deep inside her and in deep trouble.
“Shut up, Davey, and shut the damn door,” I rasp at him trying not to call any attention to Nona down the hall while trying to keep Charlie covered as I get up from the bed. Although, if he sees I don’t have anything on, he will drop the bomb. He may have Down syndrome, but he isn’t stupid; he isn’t unaware of what sex is, and he isn’t wearing his hearing aid. Fucking hell.
I have no choice; I slip from the covers where Charlie hides in embarrassment. I run across my room to my door, closing it quickly and quietly before grabbing the first thing I see, which is my calculus book, to cover the meat and veg. All the excitement has Davey laughing into his hands; his eyes are wide. Man, I’m fucked.
“Davey, it’s important for both Charlie and I that you keep this a secret, okay?”
He nods slowly, and most would think that means he is in deep thought, but I know better. His motor skills are slower than most with certain things. It’s a fifty-fifty chance he will keep our secret, but even if he means to now, it doesn’t mean he can carry it through. I sigh.
What will be, will be, I guess. I reach for my pants and pull them on. “Charlie, I’ll get your clothes from the airer, then I’ll be back.” I wink at Charlie, who is watching intently and smiling tightly, I take Davey’s arm. “Come on, bro, time to go back to bed or watch some cartoons on the box.”
I know she will get up and make my bed in my tee. I will never get rid of that shirt. It makes me smile thinking of her in it. Yeah, despite being disturbed before the deed, it’s still the best morning ever.
So far over breakfast Davey has kept quiet about what he saw this morning, but I think it’s because we have kept him busy in the hopes he will forget. When he asks us for a movie day, we are quick to agree. Davey and I head to the caddy while Nona and Charlie wash the dishes, tend to a load of washing, and get the popcorn ready. It feels natural and wonderful. Everyone I love is safe and under one roof. I couldn’t ask for anything else. I couldn’t care less where my mom is and why she took the coward’s way by dumping her sons on her mother’s doorstep, which has been a silent battle of mine, but not anymore. I have it all now, and I will never let anyone ruin it or take it away. None of us will ever feel used, rejected, unloved, or abandoned again. Not if I have anything to do with it.
It’s cliché, but I swear there is a bounce in my step as Davey drags me around the DVD store where he will hire the same rental he always does. We bought it years ago, but he still rents it, and it’s pointless to argue. I’ve seen him tantrum over it, and I swore it was never worth the fight. He grabs The Rugrats Movie, and I smile every time at his glee, even though I know he doesn’t understand half of the movie. I think it’s the dog he likes best.
I grab a couple of new releases, and we are set and on our way back home, Davey singing along to an ancient song I have never heard of coming from Nona’s old radio. I wouldn’t put it past either of them that it’s actually a cassette.
I pull into the drive and I grin, imagining Charlie hearing us pull in and getting all excited, grabbing the big bowl of popcorn and sodas. When I shut the engine down, every hair on my body pricks and my heart stampedes against my chest. Is that a scream?
Davey is out of the car and talking, but I strain to hear what I hope I only imagined. Then there’s another, this one louder than the one before. Then multiple screams, and I break out into a run to the one place I pray not to find the ones I love in. It’s not the garage, but her house―his house.
I run up the front porch and through the open door to the mixed screams of Charlie and Nona and the distinct growling and shouting of the man I hate most in this world. He was supposed to be at work; he was supposed to be out of our lives. But what I find is Nona murmuring on the floor in the hall where he must have thrown her. Just ahead is the large man in his uniform on top of Charlie as she screams and tries to wrestle free and breathe. I lunge at him, knocking him from her, but I don’t have a grasp on him as I skate across the shattered glass on the tiles. He is up on his feet in no time and upon me, slamming his fist into my face at least twice before I see the stars that I fight against, to no avail. I can’t go; I can’t leave them with him. It didn’t matter shit how much I was needed; need and fear have nothing on his fist.
It could have been seconds, maybe minutes, I don’t know, but when I hear the whimpering, I force the rest of my body to respond. Charlie and her dad are gone. I crawl to my feet and see that Nona, too, has disappeared, but I still hear whimpering. Where is she?
Slowly my mind is reacting, firing with fear as I hear more whimpering from Charlie’s room. Bile rises to my throat at my fear. I’m so fucking scared; I don’t think I have been this scared before. My body is not my own, staggering to her door when I want to run to it. It’s open, and I don’t waste time, I don’t make plans, I just silently walk in. I see Charlie, bruised, crying, and practically naked on her bed. He’s standing before her with his back to me, taunting her as he drops his pants to his ankles. I don’t look at what’s in my hand; I don’t care as it bites into my flesh. I took it from the bathroom floor knowing what I must do with it. I know it will never end unless I stick it in him. I do.
I’m actually quite shocked at how easily the shard of glass slides into his kidney area, how fast the blood flows over my hand. Although I could watch him die right now, I pull that piece of glass from his body and let him turn toward me so he can see who it is that sent him straight to hell.
He turns so slowly, his eyes wide, I actually can’t believe he isn’t wailing in pain, and I hate myself because I want him to. I want him to feel the pain, which would be just a fraction of the pain he has caused Charlie over the years. Every time he called her name across the yard from his garage; he broke a piece of her soul. I want him to feel the kind of pain I felt watching that, unable to do anything. I want all this as I slide the shard into his stomach where I let it stay, hoping that I hit something important.
He takes the shard in his hand, he looks at me and he actually smiles—the fucker smiles! I want to check on Charlie, but I can’t look away from this crazy motherfucker until he is dead. Instead, I watch the crimson juices dribble from his body to the floor. I watch as he wraps his fingers over the shard and pull it from his body, causing more of his blood expel. Before I know it, he has it pointed at me.
Then
, like a flicked switch for his own survival, he shoves me to the side. Charlie screams and then he’s pulling his pants up as he stumbles out of the room and down the hall. I can hear him grunting and hitting the wall with his bleeding body on his way. I hope it fucking hurts. I run to her, wrapping my arms around her small, quivering body as she bawls against my chest. I pull her sheet up around her, trying to soothe her shuddering. I actually thank God, right there and then, he didn’t get to her from me, when I hear it―gunfire.
“Stay here!” I demand, and she nods her blotchy face. Her eyes are screaming for me to stay, but I can’t, and she knows it. I hope she does what she’s told. I run from her room and toward the front porch where I can almost smell the scent of gunpowder in the air. I leap off the porch, over the steps to the grass, and that’s when I see the end. I see him face down and lifeless, a hole seeping blood from his back. Nona is standing to my right with a rifle in her grasp, staring at the sack of meat that used to be her neighbor, the town sheriff, Charlie’s father, and our tormentor. It is all over. Finally… over.
“YOU THINK ANYONE BELIEVES you or that murderer back there, Charlotte Barns?” Sheriff Noel snickers before sipping his steaming coffee from his ridiculous cartoon mug.
“My lawyer believes me, and I hope he will make the judge believe us also,” I retort like a stupid teenager. I shouldn’t show all our cards. The less Sheriff Noel knows, the less preparation he has to put a stop on any success we may attain.