Roar (10 page)

I WATCH AS THE
knife slides through the flesh of the tree trunk. He’s making the finishing touches, and I can’t stop smiling as I watch the muscles in his arm bunch as he tags our tree.

“There, how’s that?” he asks with a triumphant smile, gazing down at me. I’m lying on my back, the breeze floating through our hair.

“You’re so beautiful,” I say, knowing he will balk at it.

“How many times do I have to tell you that guys aren’t beautiful?”

I chuckle as he leans down beside me and brushes a stray leaf from my chest. It makes me shudder a little, because his arm brushed my nipple. My body knows him, reacts to his touch. We have been familiar with each other for so long, but only been having sex for almost a year.

It’s ours, and no one can take it from us.

He notices my reaction and his jaw ticks a little. It does that when he’s holding back. It’s one of his tells. He has a few of those. I don’t reach for him even though I want to; I want him to start for a change. It feels like it’s always me who instigates more between us; like he’s always holding back from me. I don’t want him to hold back when we’re together. I want him to be free and touch me if he wants to. And I get why he doesn’t, I do. I love him even more for it. He always wants me to
choose
to be physical, but what he doesn’t get is that, if I weren’t already choosing him and our relationship, I would have walked away. I should walk away. Though that’s a completely different argument.

We play this waiting game most of the time, and it usually has me to physically take his hand and place it on me, like a green light. Today, though, I just want him to feel it, to know I will welcome him if he wants it, whenever he wants me.

Daddy takes so much from us, and this is one of them.

I used to think it was only the third Thursday that Daddy rips the love Nate and I share away and makes it tainted, but I have learned that it’s a burden we constantly carry. When we look at one another like we are right now, I see the shadow of doubt in his eyes. We share a similar demon, and it’s present in our eyes if you look closely.

The sounds of the crickets are loud, and the tension between us crackles in tune with their song. He’s weakening, and I bite my bottom lip trying to concentrate on the rise and fall of my chest that tempts his desires. Through my red floral dress and my cotton bra, my nipples tempt him, call for his touch, his mouth.

I almost gasp when his fingers touch the tiny buttons of my dress. His eyes search mine, and I lick my lips as he unbuttons the first three. Then another, and another, until can open the top half of my dress to expose me to the small rays of sun which stream through our tree branches, and its rich green leaves. He doesn’t make a move for my stinging nipples; he just watches as my chest rises and falls too deeply and quickly. The tiny silver cross Nona game me for my sixteenth gleams against my skin. He straightens it before lowering his head, and his lips touch my skin between my breasts where the cross lies. His breath is steamy and hot, bringing goose pimples to my skin.

I feel his smile against me, and I laugh a little, but stay as still as I can. I want him to continue; I like it. And then he does something that makes my whole body quiver. His tongue runs the line of my bra until his fingers drag the small fabric across, and my nipple is in his mouth.

Stillness and control be damned. My fingers rake through his dark hair and I arch my back causing him to moan against me. God, I love that sound; it does things to my insides.

“Charlotte.” Daddy’s voice echoes across the property, causing both Nate and I to gasp and shoot upright. We stare, like hunted deer, out past the low hanging branches that keep us hidden, toward the house—to the garage.

“It’s not time.” I rush. “Why is he calling from there? It’s not Thursday! It’s not even the right week!”

Nate takes my hand and squeezes it. “Charlie, look at me.”

I can’t. My eyes were fixed on the garage, waiting for his voice again, waiting for his temper at my tardiness to his beckon. I’m never late; I always go to him immediately to keep him happy.

“
Charlie.
Look at me right now.” Nate demands. He never demands, he always asks. My eyes sweep to his; they are different, almost scared. He is never scared; he’s always my rock when I hear Daddy call me. “Whatever happens, just look at me, right here,” he says pointing at his eyes. “Understand?”

I do. I don’t know if I can, but I will try.

“Tell me you understand, Charlie.”

“I understand,” I whisper.

He holds my cheeks in his hands, kisses my mouth quickly, and then softly on my forehead before standing and bringing me to my feet with him. He’s busying with my dress, my buttons, and then takes my hand and leads me to the garage.

This walk always makes me sad, and more than a little scared, but we always know what to expect. Today is the first time I can remember where I didn’t know what to expect, and the fear was stronger than ever. The grass crunched under our feet, and the crickets grew quiet. Even they feared what was to come.

The side door was open, as always. Only this time, instead of stepping into the dimly lit room with Nate, Nate pulls me to the side against the outer wall. He did it so quick and more forceful than he intended as the air whooshed from my lungs and mouth.

“Sorry,” he says in a rushed whisper. “I want you to stay here. Understand me?”

“But you said not to look away.”

Grabbing both my shoulders; he shakes me a little. I can feel my tears building behind my eyes. “I changed my mind,” he says. “I want you to stay here. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” I say automatically.

“Tell me you will do what I say.”

My breathing is rapid while his is deep, “I will.”

He chastely kisses me, squeezes my shoulders and ducks through the door leaving me to listen and wait.

“Where is Charlotte?” I hear Daddy ask.

“Safe,” Nate says tightly.

“What is that supposed to mean, boy?”

“It means she is safe from you. This… this is stopping. You will not touch her or ask her to do anything that she doesn’t want to do ever again.”

Daddy chuckles, but it’s tight, angry even. “She always wants to. Do you think I’m fucking blind? She wants you. The both of you fuck all day long; the difference in here is, she is my daughter, and I like to watch. She likes me watching.”

I feel sick. I’m going to throw up.

“She fucking
doesn’t
like it, you motherfucker. She does it because you have brainwashed her. She does what you tell her to because she is terrified. I’m telling you, she isn’t going to do anything for you anymore. If you try anything again, I
will
go to the one place you never want me to go to spill my guts. All your colleagues, your deputies, they will hear the truth of what a sick fuck you are and lock you up for good.”

I can’t breathe.
Come back, Nate.
Stop
! I want to scream, but he’s doing something we have wanted to do for so long… Have I always wanted to stop?

“You fucking punk! You tell a soul, and I will take her away. I’ll take her far away from you and your little cock, and maybe I will have to take over your role as her lover or find some other willing recipient.”

“
Mother fucker!
You touch her, and I will kill you. You take her, and I will hunt you down and kill you. You got that; you asshole? Kill you!”

The sparks dart across my eyes and then―darkness.

I HAVE A SPECIAL
dinner almost ready; Paul’s favourite. I also light the special candles we bought on Labor Day weekend last year. Gosh, what a beautiful weekend that was, strolling through the river markets and watching the fireworks over a glass of champagne. It’s times like those that make me realize how lucky I am to have him in my life, and tonight,
I’ll show him how much I love him for all he does for me. Tonight I will make him forget the disgust I saw in his eyes for me, and what I did in the shower.

Nate is my past; Paul is my future, and I don’t want to drag Paul into the ugliness of what I walked away from. What I wanted was to be free, and all it has brought is pain to the ones I love, so I need to accept the life I have and own it, make it better, and embrace my future with Paul. There is no other possible future for me.

The candles are flickering beautifully, the table perfectly set, and his favorite nightgown swathing my body. All I need now is my man to come home and all will be perfect once again.

The oven bell dings and I rush to it, pulling the glazed duck from the oven, when I hear the front door. My chest heaves as I realize I’ve run out of time. I wanted to be sitting at the table, his plate ready for him. I’m not ready, I’ve already failed.

“Charlotte?”

“I’m in here, Paul.” I try to keep my voice calm, but I can hear its betrayal. Fear. It reeks and screams from me against my will. Just stay calm and get it together. He won’t hurt me again if I keep him happy. All I need to do is keep him happy, and I will find my own happiness.

Paul steps into the kitchen, his eyes falling upon me and then grazing across every curve of my body. I can feel his steady gaze and the hunger in them, it’s that look I’ve recognize all my life. I can do hunger. I can feed that type of hunger.

Leaving the duck on the counter, the steamed vegetables in the pot, I saunter toward him, ready to make him see why he loves me.

“Charlotte, you will be the death of me.” He grabs my hips, and I reach up to kiss him. I know if my lips touch his lips, he will lose the hate, and all will be back to the way it was.

The thing about bullies is they usually come from being bullied, and that stems from fear. Fear I understand, and as long as I protect Paul from his fears, which I have learned to identify over time, all will be right and blissful.

The bang at the front door makes me jump and Paul whips around. The scowl on his face is chilling. I can tell he expected exactly what I fear; that Nate wasn’t going to give up. This is the type of “fear” I dread.

I don’t have a chance to ask Paul for forgiveness or plea for his patience and cool. Paul is storming toward the front door with me on his heels, pleading all too late to the fierce, tall, wall of his back.

Something insanely protective in me screams out and thrusts me between Paul and―
Davey
?

“Davey? What are you doing here?” I’m relieved because I know the showdown is on pause for now. Davey isn’t his enemy in Paul’s eyes, just a reminder and a firm warning that it’s not over. If Davey is here now, Nate won’t be far behind.

“I missed you,” Davey sighs, and then wraps his arms around me, pinning my arms to my side and squeezing. I grimace against the tender, abused ribs. He doesn’t realize his strength, and it’s not until I grunt, and Paul grumbles, that Davey lets me go. Suddenly I’m quite conscious of my clothing, or there lack of, and wrap my arms around myself.

“Miss you too, Davey. Come in and give me a second while I go get something decent on.”

“Go Packers!” he calls, and I chuckle a little. I don’t have a Packers tee anymore, but he wouldn’t understand why I never replaced it, so I just smile and try to ignore the stony glare from Paul as I make to the bedroom for some sweats.

I throw my sweats over my nightgown and rush back to the living room, too anxious to leave Paul with Davey too long. Not because I fear for Davey’s safety or anything; Paul wouldn’t do that. It’s more to do with self-preservation. Who knows what Davey would disclose to Paul; a few home truths, and it would be the end, and I would be alone once again.

Paul is still in his chair while Davey is chattering away about his girlfriend at the Willow Lake. I can’t help the smile it brings me to know how much he is growing into a man, to know he is moving on with his life despite it all. Davey would have to be the most beautiful soul I had ever met. I hate that I was close to ruining that for him.

“Davey, is Nona coming for you? Does she or Nate know you are here?”

“I walked here. She was bathing, and I walked here by myself. I walk lots of places.”

“I bet. But I wonder if she would be frightened if she were to find you gone without letting her know where you were going.”

“If his grandmother can’t watch him like she should, then maybe he should be in a home,” Paul chides from his chair. I gasp, and the sound is loud in the stillness, until Davey jumps up.

“I don’t want to go there to live. I love Nona; I look after her, and she looks after me,” Davey whines as I reach for him, taking his hand.

“Davey, Paul didn’t mean it. He doesn’t know you and Nona like I do, but I will tell him. There is nothing to fear, okay?”

“But he wants to send me away, take me from Nona like they did to us when they took Nate. And they took you.”

“No, honey. He won’t, I promise. Isn’t that right, Paul?” I say over my shoulder. Paul is leaning on his knees, watching, listening, learning, and I don’t like it, but it’s a must if it helps Davey. I can only imagine his pain after the cops took me and Nate away; we were his family and only true friends. “Paul! Tell him he is safe and that you won’t send him away.”