by Alex Grayson
“How is she doing?” Thea asks, her arms tucked tight around her waist.
“She’s going to be fine. She just needs a few stitches.”
“I was so scared,” she whispers. “I’ve never heard a gunshot before. It was so loud.”
Eden pulls Thea’s head to her shoulder and kisses the top.
I step closer and bend my knees to see her face better. “Did you see the person who shot her?”
She shakes her head. “No. They had something over their face. It was one of those masks that only has mouth and eye holes.”
“Damn it,” I mutter, turning away and slashing my fingers through my hair. If one of the others don’t catch up with the person, there’s a big chance we’ll never know who it was. There are 393 people in Malus. It could be anyone. I don’t want to think of one of Malus’s citizens doing this, especially to a child, but it has to be one of them.
A few minutes later, JW and Derek round the corner from the front. From the looks on their faces, they had no luck. My back molars grind together, my body vibrating with violent urge to maim someone.
“Where’s Brittney?” Derek demands, his face contorted in fury.
I tip my chin to the door behind me and he hurries that way. I grab his arm before he disappears inside.
“Who were they aiming at?” I ask.
The muscle in his jaw twitches, and his eyes blaze with hatred. “Brittney.”
He pulls his arm away and dashes into the room, leaving me reeling. Why in the fuck would someone purposely shoot a child?
“The bastard was too fast,” JW growls, walking over to Thea and Eden. “Emo found his trail behind the McCullough’s, but lost it in the woods. Derek said the person was in all black and wearing a mask, but he had a smaller frame.”
“We need to put out an alert and let the town know we have a shooter out there somewhere. People need to be watchful.”
He nods tightly. “I’ll have Sanchez and Williams out tomorrow making stops.”
“Where’s Emo?”
Thea leaves Eden’s arms and walks into JW’s. “Still out looking,” he says over her head.
Emo may be the most closed off of the four of us, but he’s also the most passionate. He may not show it and may like to pretend otherwise, but his actions prove he cares deeply.
JW and I make plans to inform the town of a potential danger in our midst. After, I check on Brittney before leaving the office. It’s eight thirty. Maisy will be calling soon, and I want a few minutes to calm my raging anger before she does.
I’m just slipping on a pair of shorts after my shower when my phone rings. The shower helped, but hearing my phone ring and knowing Maisy is on the other end soothes the rest of my ire.
Sitting on the bed, I swipe my finger across the screen. I let out a breath when her image pops up.
“Hey, Daddy,” she says. Her innocent little voice along with her gorgeous green eyes loosen the tension in my stomach.
“Hey, Mase. How are you doing today?”
“Today’s been great. I got to have real ice cream.” Her smile lights my whole fucking world.
“What flavor did you pick?”
“I wanted to have some of all of them”—she wrinkles her pert little nose—“but mom said I could only pick two, and they were really small scoops. But it was sooo good! I had strawberry and chocolate.”
I chuckle. “I’ll make sure to have several different flavors for when you get here. And don’t forget our date to the ice-cream shop.”
“I can’t wait to see you again,” she says gloomily. “I wish we could come sooner.”
Fuck, so do I. We Skype every night, but it’s not near enough. If I didn’t have so much shit going on here, I’d take the next flight out. That’s certainly out the window after what happened tonight. It’s been two weeks since I left Kentucky. Maisy’s doctor said she’s healing at a rapid rate, and her tests results are phenomenal. The last time I talked to him was yesterday, and he said if things continue the way they are, he wouldn’t be opposed to her traveling in a couple of weeks. Add another week for them to pack up and for Ellie to settle things there, and they’ll be on their way here. That’s so Goddamn long from now, but I don’t want her traveling until the doctor gives his approval. Three weeks. I’ll manage for that long, but it’ll nearly kill me.
“Three more weeks and you’ll be here,” I tell her.
A swish of black hair flashes on the screen behind Maisy. My eyes hone in on it, but she’s gone in an instant. I haven’t seen Ellie since the day I left. She never gets on Skype with Maisy. I’ve spoken with her over the phone, but my eyes are greedy to see her. I miss her just as much as I miss our daughter. The few times we’ve talked, she’s been quiet and reserved, only letting the conversation revolve around Maisy. It pisses me off, but I’ll give her the time she needs. Until they get here, that is. She can fight it all she wants, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her fears get in the way of what I want.
I focus my attention back on Maisy. She rattles on about going to the park tomorrow to have a picnic with some of her friends. I love watching the excitement on her face. I know she’ll miss her friends when she leaves, but I’m confident she’ll make more here. Thea and Brittney are her age. They already know about her and are anxious for her to get here as well.
All too soon, I hear Ellie in the background telling her it’s time for bed.
“I gotta go,” she says mournfully, her cute little lip jutting out into a pout.
Damn, but I miss her.
“I love you, Daddy.”
My eyes slide closed at her words. The first time she told me that was the night I got back to Malus. I barely made it home in time for our first Skype session. She looked so depressed, but also happy to see me. The feelings were mutual. Each time we do this, it’s bittersweet. I get to see my little girl, but I can’t touch her. I can’t wrap my arms around her or kiss the soft hairs on the top of her head. I can’t read her nighttime stories or play Minecraft with her. I can’t smell her innocent scent or see the happiness on her face when she does something she hasn’t been able to do since her illness.
One thing is for sure, once they get here, I’m never letting them go. I’m never going to miss another moment in Maisy’s life.
“I love you too, Mase,” I respond hoarsely. I’ve only ever given three people those words. Ellie, Mae, and now Maisy. “You sleep well tonight and have fun tomorrow with your friends, but don’t overdo yourself.”
Her lips tuck upward into a smile. “I will, I will, and I won’t.”
Just like every night, she lifts her hand to the screen and lays it flat on the surface. I do the same, making sure my palm is directly over hers. It’s ridiculous to even think, but it’s almost as if I feel the warmth of her palm against mine.
I’m a fucking sap, I know it, and I give not one fuck. This is my daughter, and I’ll be the sappiest motherfucker out there for her.
“Talk to you tomorrow.”
We both pull our hands away at the same time. “Okay. Bye, Daddy.”
“Bye, baby.”
She disconnects, and the screen goes black. I’m left feeling bleak.
Before Ellie came back into my life, most of my nights were spent with one of the women. I kept this place for when I wanted to be alone, but that didn’t happen often. Being alone has never bothered me; I just preferred having the company of a female. Since returning to Malus, this is where I’ve been, and for the first time in my life, I feel lonely. I could easily show up at Layla’s, Jamie’s, or Gillian’s, but it’s not their company I want. It’s the woman who caught my attention twelve years ago and never let it go.
My phone pings, alerting me of a notification. Tapping my screen to life, I find the email app. My mood suddenly lightens. If there’s one thing that could push aside the misery in my gut, it’s the video link I was just sent. I’ve been waiting a week for this, and on the cusp of what happened t
onight, it couldn’t have come at a more perfect time.
I press the link and wait for the video to download. Anticipation and euphoria knot together in my stomach. The same home office as the video of a few weeks ago pops up, the camera aimed at the desk. It’s empty, but only seconds later, the old fuck that it belongs to walks up and sits in the chair. He taps at his computer for several seconds before his hands freeze on the keyboard.
It irritates me because I’m on my phone and the screen is small, but the camera is close enough that I see the color drain from his face and his hand shake as he clicks the mouse. These pictures aren’t near as gruesome as the others I’ve sent, but he still gets the message I’m sending. The funny thing is, he doesn’t even know who is sending them or that someone is watching his reaction. He will soon enough, but I want to play with dear ole Dad a bit more first. I like watching the fear on his face, the sanity slowly leave him, and the utter helplessness he feels at not knowing what’s going to happen next.
I only took a few pictures of Jon swaying from his rope death sentence. The close-up of his contorted face was the best one. It wasn’t bloody or grisly, but I know when dad comes across it, because his hand jerks on the mouse. Jon may be fully intact in the image, but with his eyes bulging out of his sockets, his face swollen and dark purple, and his mouth open with blood dripping out from biting his tongue, it’s still a disturbing sight.
Once he’s done, he slams the laptop lid closed hard enough to break the screen. His elbows thump on the desk and he grips his hair, pulling on the strands. I smile at the screen as he lets out a bellow. His head jerks up and he swipes an arm across his desk, sending all kinds of shit flying every which way. His chair bangs on the wall behind him as he angrily jerks up to stand. A moment later, he stalks out of view of the camera. A moment after that, the video shuts off.
I’ve been sending him these pictures for the last three years, since my search for him came to an end. The bastard’s seven hours away, just across the border in New Mexico. He’s been there for five years. Before that, he was in Dallas.
Soon though, once I get done playing with him, he’ll be coming back to home sweet home, where his final residence will be an unmarked grave underneath an old oak tree.
Chapter Fourteen
JUDGE
The Past
MY FINGERS DIG SO HARD into the arm of the chair I’m sitting in, I wonder if my nails will break off first or they’ll slice into the fabric. The weight on my legs is crushing, my thighs painfully digging into the edge of the seat. I close my eyes and turn my head away, but the image of bouncing breasts is already there. It’s like it’s burned into the back of my eyelids.
Vomit tightens my throat when hands run through my hair and grip the strands on top of my head. Warm breath heats the skin on my neck when lips and a tongue move across it. The scent from her hair and perfume nearly makes me gag. I squeeze harder on the chair.
I want to scream and shove her off my lap, but my wrists are tied down.
“You feel so good, Kayn,” she whispers against my ear. “I know you love it when you’re inside of me. It’s okay to admit it.”
She’s wrong. I hate it. I hate it so much that if I were free, I’d kill her.
I’m only twelve and have been having sex ever since I can remember. They say it’s normal, that it’s okay for the adults to do this to kids, that the night of The Gathering is the only night God gives permission, but I know it’s a lie. God would never approve of something that hurts so much and feels so wrong.
“No,” I growl, keeping my eyes closed and off Mrs. Malone. “It makes me want to puke.”
A new hand, a bigger one, grabs my hair and yanks my head to the other side. I don’t need to open my eyes to know who it is. Dad told me tonight on the way here that he would be part of my Hell Night.
“Open,” he commands in an authoritative voice.
I clamp my lips closed tighter, refusing to obey him.
“Kayn, stop fighting and open your Goddamn mouth.”
Dad rarely talks to me in his mean tone. It only happens on Hell Night. I don’t know why he thinks I’ll give in. I never do, until I’m forced to. He knows this.
I shake my head against the grip in my hair. The fingers squeeze tighter and a few strands snap. I ignore the pain. The weight on my lap stops moving and a hand clamps around my throat, putting enough pressure against my windpipe that I can’t breathe. My eyes pop open to find Mrs. Malone looking at me with her thin brows pulled down in disappointment.
“Give your father what he wants,” she says softly. “It’s time to learn to enjoy what he wants to give you. It’s special.”
It’s disgusting. If I could breathe, I’d laugh in her face. I bare my teeth instead and her expression turns into a scowl.
Just as my vision starts to cloud, she releases my throat. Dad yanks my head back so hard that I feel a pop and a slight pain radiates down my spine. He bends down and gets in my face. In my peripheral vision, I see his flabby naked body. It’s so sickening I want to wash my eyes out with bleach.
“Why do you always fight? Month after month, you do this. When are you ever going to accept that The Gathering is sacred and should be enjoyed and relished? It’s love and affection in the purest form.”
“Never!” I yell, my voice echoing and mingling with the cries and screams of the others. “I’ll never want this, and you can’t make me.”
He shakes his head, as if I’ve let him down. “You make it harder on yourself. If you’ll just give in, you’ll see that you love it and will look forward to it just as much as we do.” His face changes into a scary mask. “You can resist all you want, but you will give in. And remember what happened the last time you used your teeth. You so much as think about using them this time, I’ll make sure it’s twice as bad.”
I remember very well. I woke up the next morning, barely able to move from the brutal way dad let the others use me. My whole body was sore for a week.
He tosses my head away from him and turns his eyes to Mrs. Malone. “Do it.”
In the next instant, she pinches my nose closed. I keep my mouth shut, refusing to give up and stare my hatred directly at her. It’s useless, both my heated look and my stubbornness. During Hell Night, the adults have no feelings for their children, except for the nasty ones they feel to get pleasure from us kids. They’ll do anything to have pleasure.
I hold my breath for as long as I can. If I could, I wouldn’t stop until I pass out, but just as I become light-headed, my body takes over, and I gulp in air. Dad takes advantage and puts the tip of his penis at my mouth.
I don’t know how much time goes by—I force my mind to go blank—but it seems like forever that dad uses my mouth, while Mrs. Malone resumes moving on my lap. Hell Night lasts all night, sometimes the sun is starting to rise when it’s over. It’s up to the adults to decide when they’ve had enough. The men take blue pills that make them last longer. Sometimes they give them to the boys that are old enough too. One was forced down my throat tonight.
Mrs. Malone has already climbed off my lap by the time Dad finishes. My jaw hurts and there’s a revolting taste in my mouth. I feel like I’m going to throw up any minute. Taking a deep breath, I force the feeling away. It’ll only make Dad mad. I used to fight him when he would put his nasty juices in my mouth. The few times I’ve spit it out, he’d hit me so hard on the face he’d knock me out. It didn’t stop them from doing stuff to me while I was out either. I’d wake up with weight on my back or my legs thrown over my shoulders and pain in my stomach. I don’t fight him anymore. I just wait until I go home and gag myself with my toothbrush until I puke.
I blink several times, pulling myself from my haze, and realize half the hall is now empty. Looking around, I can’t find Trouble or JW. In the center of the room are Emo and Mr. Masters. He has Emo’s face smashed against a table as he stands behind him, his hips moving in slow motion. I’m surprised Rella isn’t there. Mr
. Masters has an obsession with her. Actually, his obsession is more of Emo being with Rella while he takes Emo.
Mom comes over, the robe she’s wearing barely covering her chest. Her cheeks are red and her hair is wet with sweat. She drops to her knees beside my chair and begins untying one of my wrists.
“How was your night, dear?” she asks, looking up at Dad as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants.
“It would have been better if he,” he juts his chin toward me, “would have cooperated. How was yours? Did you enjoy your night?”
It makes me sick to hear them talk about tonight so casually, as if the pain the kids go through is nothing.
“I loved it. Melanie just left with her parents. She’s such a sweet girl.” She licks her lips, then smiles. “In more ways than one.” She moves to my other wrist. “Lavena promised me I could have both her and her brother next month.”
Dad grins. “You’ve been aiming for that for a while now. Matt’s grown into a fine young man. Maybe I’ll join you.”
Matt just turned seventeen last week. A couple of years ago, I remember him fighting his parents on Hell Night. The last year, he’s changed. He participates willingly now. All of the adults here started off just like my brothers and me, hating what was done to us. I don’t understand how you can hate something so much but end up liking it later.
Mom gets to her feet and Dad hands me a pair of shorts. With my body hurting, I slip them up my legs. I don’t wait for him to hand me my shirt, I snatch it from his relaxed hand. As I pull it over my head, I hear Dad say, “Mmm…. She was sweet, wasn’t she. I can taste her on your lips.”
Turning away from them, I walk stiffly across the room, keeping my eyes down and away from the other people still doing sick things. Mom and Dad follow behind me. I don’t look back at them and I don’t talk to them on the short walk back home. As soon as I’m inside the house, I move for the stairs. Dad’s voice stops me halfway up.
“I expect you to do better next month, Kayn, and learn your place.”