Credence

by Penelope Douglas

  “Your parents, Tiernan,” he says, cutting me off and looking me in the eye. “Not your fault.”

  It’s hard to make sense of, though. My mother wasn’t so different than Flora. Just as poor, but at least Flora had a family. My mother had been a foster kid with no one. How could she not be on the girl’s side?

  I drop my eyes to Jake’s waist, the tattoo he sports on the side covered by his T-shirt now, but I remember the words. My Mexico. He said Flora was an immigrant, so is the tattoo for her? Or how cowboys escaped across the border back in the day, Colorado became his escape? His Mexico.

  “We need to have some fun,” he chirps, lightening the mood with a smile. “Let’s all go up to the lake tomorrow.”

  The lake? Not the pond?

  “Get some music and beer in us,” he goes on. “Some cliff diving.”

  “Cliff diving?”

  His eyes fall briefly down my body. “You have a swimsuit, right?”

  But the question sounds more like a warning, because he doesn’t damn well want me swimming in my clothes like yesterday.

  Or in my underwear like Flora.

  Yes, I have a…bikini. Dread coils through my stomach. I usually wear whatever our personal shopper buys without a care, but I think I’m going to care with them tomorrow.

  Why don’t I have a one piece? Or a rash guard? Ugh…

  Over the next couple of hours, I’m a demon, rushing from one task to the next, and glad for the distraction. Jake, Noah, and I finish morning chores, I cook breakfast and Noah cleans up, and then I assist them in the shop, typing out responses to emails that my uncle dictates concerning the business while he works.

  Jake and I load two bikes onto the flatbed, roping them down, before he slips his T-shirt back on and pulls his keys out of his pocket. I know he needs to take them to town to deliver them to the transport, shipping them off to wherever they’re going, but suddenly he stops and looks over my shoulder.

  I follow his gaze.

  Kaleb is at the other end of the barn, jeans hanging loosely from his hips, no shirt, and the sun shining across his bare chest, which is damp with sweat, as he brings the ax down and chops a log in two.

  He rubs his jaw across his shoulder, blood from his open wounds spreading across his cheek.

  “Go grab the First Aid kit,” Jake tells me as he starts to walk for the driver’s side. “Kaleb needs help.”

  “Yeah, professional help,” I grumble. “He…”

  It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him about the other night in the shop.

  And about the barn yesterday.

  But…I can’t put all the blame on Kaleb, I guess. It’s best not to bring it up.

  “He threatened that guy with a gun yesterday,” I say, instead.

  Kaleb scares me.

  But Jake turns around and charges right back to me. “That guy,” he tells me, “has a clubhouse in town for gangbangs with a scoreboard on the wall, rating each girl on a scale of one to ten. There are no less than three-hundred names of all the tail he and his friends have bagged in their short lives.” And then he points in my face, and I rear back a little, scowling. “You’re fucking lucky Kaleb found you and not me, because I wouldn’t have waited before you left before I fucking killed him.”

  I cock an eyebrow but don’t protest further.

  “Now move your tush,” he orders.

  He turns around and climbs in the truck, and I drag my feet for another minute after he drives off before walking into the barn and yanking the damn First Aid kit out of the cabinet.

  He doesn’t want help from me. Not any more than I care to help him.

  And I still don’t believe for one second he or Noah were trying to keep me safe. Even though, assuming what Jake said is true, it’s good they did show up, actually.

  But, no. I think Terrance might have been correct on that assessment. They’re territorial. It could’ve been any guy with their baby cousin up there, and they would’ve been angry and started a fight.

  Trudging over to where Kaleb is working, I stop, not wanting to make eye contact.

  I hold up the kit to him. “You’re bleeding.”

  He stares at me for a moment and then uses his shoulder to wipe the blood again before picking up another log, ignoring me.

  Opening the box, I take out the Neosporin. “The ointment will keep it from tearing,” I say, calming my voice and trying. “Put the ointment on it.”

  He stops, his hesitant eyes going from me to the tube in my hand.

  I ease my shoulders, forcing myself to relax. I don’t want to fight today.

  “Sit down,” I tell him softly. “Please.”

  His eyes narrow, and he doesn’t move.

  I gesture to the tree stump, softening my voice to almost a whisper. “Please sit down.”

  He waits a few seconds, staring at me, but then…he sits.

  Setting the box down, I take out an anti-bacterial wipe and move over to him, avoiding his eyes as I stand over him.

  I clean off the blood on his face, gently wiping the scratches, as well, but I feel his eyes watching every move I make. They follow me as I lean down and pick at the dried blood and then rise up again to uncap the ointment. It doesn’t feel like the other night when he wanted me. Now, it’s like he’s scared of me. He’s watching for a wrong move.

  I swallow. “Keeping it moist will keep it from scabbing, and it’ll heal quicker,” I tell him, dabbing ointment on his jaw. “Keep reapplying this, okay?”

  I generously cover the entire length of the wound, blinking when the smell of soil, wood, and wet air hits me. He always seems to smell like that.

  He says nothing, his chest rising and falling with breaths too perfect and controlled as if each one is an effort to stay calm.

  His fists are balled as they rest on his lap, and I glance at him, our eyes meeting. A shiver runs through me. I like that he’s scared.

  I get closer out of spite, dabbing far more ointment than he needs.

  “You didn’t shoot that guy yesterday, did you?” I joke.

  I glance over, and he’s still silently watching me.

  But to my surprise, there’s amusement in his gaze.

  My heart skips, and my insides feel like a warm puddle. It’s not a smile, but it’s soft. Like how I felt with him the other night for a few seconds. Like I could sink into someone.

  I clear my throat and stand up. “Alright.” I recap the tube and hand it to him. “Here.”

  He takes it, not once blinking as he stares at me.

  “Reapply before bed,” I tell him.

  But he doesn’t nod or do anything that acknowledges he heard me except continue to gawk.

  “Lunch!” Noah calls.

  I startle, looking across the yard to see him heading for the other truck.

  “Wanna drive with me?” he asks. “I’m going to get cheeseburgers.”

  I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or his brother, but I look back down at Kaleb and see him still looking at me.

  And I’m not…confident about being left here alone with him.

  I should go with Noah.

  “Coming,” I say, holding Kaleb’s eyes as I walk away, the look he’s giving me telling me I’m right.

  I shouldn’t be left here alone with him.

  Noah

  Her arm whips out, knocking pieces off my Harry Potter Wizard Chess board, some tumbling to the floor.

  I wince.

  “Noah, get up!” I hear my father shout on the other side of my bedroom door. His footfalls fade as he descends the stairs.

  Fuck. The chick on top of me leans down, grabs the headboard, and rolls her hips up and down my cock. Come on… The hard flesh pulses with heat, but I can’t seem to get there. I grip her hips, guiding her faster and faster.

  “Am I hotter?” she gasps.

  “Yeah.”

  “And my tits?” She cradles the back of my neck, shoving her breast in my face. “You like them better?”

  I
manage half an eye roll, but I give her nipple a bite for good measure. She does have nicer tits than Rory, but at least Rory knew what foreplay was. This chick trying to jump on my cock at six in the morning and expecting it to be immediately standing at attention is just downright offensive.

  Luckily, I was able to conjure a sordid memory from high school to get me ready.

  Leaning back up, she runs her hands over her body, squeezing her breasts as her blonde hair falls all around her. Then she slams the wall next to the bed with her hand and groans in pleasure.

  Jesus, fuck. If Tiernan wasn’t awake in there, she is now.

  I pull Remi’s hand down from the wall and sit up, kissing her to shut up her moaning. Being loud at night is one thing. Loud in the morning reminds everyone I’m late for work, because I’m fucking my ex’s eighteen-year-old sister in here.

  “Noah!” my dad bellows again from downstairs.

  Yeah, yeah... Just come already. Come on…

  My head swims. I’m not into this.

  But I don’t want to leave the room and deal with my father, either. I move my body faster, kissing her neck, pulling her hair, and fuck her from the bottom, her moans getting louder.

  Come on, baby. Come.

  “I love fucking you,” she croons.

  I nod. Yeah, okay.

  “I’m glad I got my turn up here.”

  Your turn…

  “Go hard,” she pants. “I’m daddy’s little whore.”

  Ew. What the fuck? I close my eyes, my stomach rolling.

  “You won’t hurt me, Noah,” she says.

  Shhhhh…ut the fuck up.

  “I dare you to try.”

  That’s it. I grit my teeth and circle her waist, flipping us both around and pinning her on her back. I cover her mouth with my hand as I push her knees wide, spreading her open.

  I fuck her hard and fast as my bed rocks, the floorboards creak, and I stare out the window behind my headboard. I just want this to be over.

  I clench my jaw, the feel of her sweat making me feel like the walls are closing in. I want it off me.

  I close my eyes.

  I need out of this room.

  Out of this house.

  Out of the woods.

  Off the mountain.

  I don’t care if I ever see another fucking tree in my life, because maybe now that I’ve fucked every woman within fifty miles and can’t look at myself in the mirror anymore, I’ve reached the end of my rope and won’t be so chicken shit that I can’t stand up to my dad.

  Nights are better. When I’m tired, and I just want some ass before I go to bed, but in the morning… I don’t wake up wanting to be where I am and looking forward to doing shit I don’t want to do. I’m bored.

  In another minute, I feel her moans vibrate on my palm, her pussy contracts, squeezing my cock, and I grunt as I finish her off, forcing hard breaths in her ear, so she thinks I finished, too.

  My skin itches where it touches her.

  I remove my hand.

  “I love the feel of your cum inside me,” she breathes out.

  I didn’t come. And I’m wearing a condom, Dunderhead.

  “Noah!” And I hear the baseball bat hit the log column downstairs. “Get up!”

  I wipe my face with my hands and roll off Remi.

  Fucking prick. A cool sweat covers my body, and I stand up and pull off the condom, tossing it. I pull on my jeans as I throw her T-shirt to her, but I can feel her eyes on me as she sits up. I need some goddamn air and some space to wallow in my shame.

  If I can’t come even once, that’s unacceptable. I’m good in bed, goddammit. Women leave my room happy.

  Not like the Boulevard of Broken Dreams that’s my father’s bed when they realize he only wants sex and not a relationship or Skid Row upstairs in Kaleb’s room where women are lucky to leave alive.

  I, on the other hand, am really good at this shit.

  Remi stares at me, a flirty smile on her lips like we’re supposed to make plans for next time or something, but I just dip down and give her a quick peck on the lips that hopefully says, “bye.”

  And please, please be gone when I get back from the shower.

  I turn around, grab a Bud from my little fridge, and leave the room, shutting the door behind me.

  I twist off the top and slide it into my pocket. I’m gonna need a buzz this morning.

  Carrying the beer across the hall, I hear footfalls to my right and look over to see Tiernan stomping up the stairs.

  She sniffles, not really looking sad but frustrated. “So nasty,” she growls to herself, her voice thick with a sob. “I have… like chicken shit under my fingernails. So gross. Why is he so weird? Just buy your chicken at the store like everyone else, you know?”

  My snort almost escapes, but I keep quiet. She hasn’t noticed me yet, and I don’t want her to. She’s too damn funny, and I like watching her get pissed off. My only little ray of sunshine in this big ol’ shithole.

  Although, I do sympathize with her. Cleaning out the chicken coops is no party.

  “And it better be done good enough for him, because I’m not…” And she breaks into air quotes, “doing it fifteen times until I get it right.” She mimics my father’s deep voice and dumbass alpha orders.

  I laugh to myself, utterly delighted. Someone who hates him as much as I do.

  Okay, okay. I don’t hate him. I just… hate myself.

  She heads for the bathroom, and I can’t stop myself as I rush over and grab the door handle before she can.

  “There’s another bathroom downstairs,” I tease, unable to keep myself from fucking up her morning some more.

  “I need the shower.” She scowls up at me, her eyes red but her mouth tight. She sports cute French braids down both sides of her head and tries grabbing the handle from me.

  “We’re going fishing,” I argue, shoving my body in front of hers in our battle for the door. “You’re just going to get dirty again.”

  She slaps my hand. “I was here first!” And then she yanks at my arms and shoves at my chest. “If you have to piss, then you do it downstairs.”

  “I need a shower, too.”

  “Why?” she mocks, repeating my words back to me. “We’re going fishing.”

  “’Cause I got dirtier than you did this morning,” I laugh out, taunting her.

  She shoots me a dirty look, telling me she knows exactly how I got dirty, but neither one of us gives up. I yank one of her braids, she elbows me, and I laugh, seeing a little smile peek out from her, too, as we battle.

  I finally get the door open only for her to shove herself in front of me to try to get into the bathroom first. I step on her foot and she stumbles, but I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her back as she grabs hold of the doorframe, not giving up the ship.

  Laughter rolls through me, the sudden urge to take her to the ground and tickle the shit out of her clawing at me. I can’t wait to get her to the lake. I’m not sure I’ve ever played with a woman I wasn’t worried about screwing.

  I pull her off the doorframe, and she screams, but it evolves into a laugh as her legs—bare in jean shorts—kick at me, and her stinky Vans hit the wall.

  “Shit, you stink,” I say. “Did you roll around in shit or something?”

  “I stepped in it!” she growls.

  I chuckle. It’s like having a little sister. Maybe the day won’t wind up so badly, after all.

  But just as I finish the thought, another voice pierces the silence. “Noah?” someone says.

  My stomach sinks, and I halt, my smile slowly falling. Tiernan and I fall silent, and I release her, both of us standing upright as we turn our heads toward my bedroom door.

  Remi stands there in the doorway, watching us.

  And she clearly didn’t take the hint to leave as she’s only dressed in one of my T-shirts instead of her own clothes.

  She crooks her finger at me, and I’d rather cut off my left ball.

  I push Tiernan i
nto the bathroom, following her, and slam the door shut, locking us in. I push her down on the toilet.

  “What the hell are you doing?” She glares up at me.

  “Just sit down,” I order her, reaching behind the shower curtain and turning on the water. “Just… sit down until she leaves, okay?”

  “Why?”

  Because I need a cock blocker. Why do you think, dumbass? If I shower alone, Remi might try to join me or some shit.

  “Just do what I say,” I tell her instead.

  Tiernan’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion, and I shake my head.

  Remi’s sweat feels like it’s sitting on my lungs with the thousand other mornings of waking up to faces just like hers. I’m nothing, and the longer I’m not drunk, the longer I have to face that fact. I take a swig of the beer.

  But as I drink, Tiernan bolts off the toilet seat and leaps for the door.

  I grab the back of her jeans and haul her back, her body slamming into mine.

  “Noah!” she scolds.

  But I wrap my arms around her anyway, pulling her away from the door. “Don’t leave me. She wants my body again.”

  “Ugh.”

  I hold her, taking another big swallow.

  But then a knock hits the hardwood, and we still.

  Nooooo…

  “Noah?” I hear Remi call. “Are you coming to the bar tonight?” the girl asks through the door.

  “Yes!” Tiernan shouts. “He’s com—”

  I clamp my free hand over her mouth.

  And then another bellow sounds from downstairs. “Noah!”

  I flinch. What the fuck? Is everyone obsessed with me today? Thank God Kaleb can’t talk, too.

  Tiernan thrashes in my arms, and I don’t know why, but I squeeze her tighter as I back away from the locked door, closing my eyes.

  “Noah!” he shouts again.

  “I’m in the shower!” I finally belt out at my father downstairs.

  Jesus.

  But just then, Tiernan slams her heel into my leg, and I stumble backward, falling with her in my arms.

  The backs of my knees hit the bathtub, I lose my footing, and we both fall back into the tub, Tiernan still in my arms as she crashes against my chest.

  She yelps, tearing the shower curtain off a couple rings as my spine hits the porcelain and her head bangs back into my chin.