Credence

by Penelope Douglas

  The truck shakes and rocks as he and Noah pack the tent, table, chairs, and other gear in the back, and I look out the window, seeing some guy ride off on Noah’s bike with a girl on the back. They look vaguely familiar—maybe a friend borrowing his motorcycle.

  Laughter goes off outside the truck as the tailgate closes, and I look over, seeing a woman climbing in beside me.

  A whiff of her perfume hits me, and she looks up, smiling at me as she closes the door.

  “Hi.”

  “Hey.”

  More giggles sound off behind me, and as Jake and Noah hop into the front seat, I close my eyes, my anger so hot I clench my fists.

  Perfect. Absolutely perfect. I don’t turn around to see how many are in the truck bed. I just shoot my uncle a glare in the rearview mirror.

  He meets my eyes but then looks away as he starts the truck.

  Dancing with someone makes me look like a slut, but they can serial screw every night and not see the irony there.

  Jake starts the truck, and I have no idea if Kaleb is still at the bonfire or in the bed behind me, but I cross my arms over my chest, too angry to even care.

  Music plays on the radio as we speed up the dark highway, climbing the mountain on our way home. A cheer goes off behind me in the night wind, and I hear Noah crack a beer from the passenger seat in front.

  So I’m just supposed to listen to all them go at it all night?

  “Take me over your knee…” I repeat, looking at Jake’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’ve never been spanked in my life.”

  He looks up, meeting my gaze. “If you want to be, keep it up.”

  The girl next to me shifts in her seat, and the tension in the cab suddenly rises a couple notches.

  Asshole.

  “You’ll hit me, because I would do things you don’t like?”

  “It’s called correction,” he retorts, staring back at the road. “And I’ll do it, because I care about you.”

  Noah glances over his shoulder at me and then looks over at his father, whispering, “What’s going on?”

  Jake shakes his head once, blowing him off.

  “You can’t stop me from being with someone or having sex if I want to,” I inform him. “It’s called a double standard, Jake. You guys get to be with women. Why can’t I enjoy someone’s company?”

  “We can be with women, because no one has laid claim to us.”

  “No one has laid claim to me.”

  “You’re a young woman in my house,” he fires back. “We claim you until you’re old enough.”

  “On my birthday?”

  He cocks a dark eyebrow at me, but doesn’t reply as he focuses back on the road.

  Will I be old enough when I’m eighteen in a matter of weeks? Will he back off then?

  Of course not. I’m old enough when he says, because I’m too stupid to keep myself out of trouble.

  And whether or not I’m ready for sex is one thing, but intimacy is another. We all want to be special to someone. Family isn’t the same thing. I’d like to meet someone eventually.

  “Your logic is flawed, you know?” I tell him, staring at him through the mirror. “If a woman claims you, then she’ll also do for you what other women do. But if you all are claiming me, you’re not doing for me what other men would do.”

  Noah spurts beer from his mouth, choking and dripping alcohol everywhere as he looks wide-eyed over at his father and coughs into his hand.

  I bite back a smile.

  Noah hacks, struggling for breath, and wipes the mess off his lap. Jake stares at me through the rearview mirror.

  But he doesn’t reply.

  And I’m not the first to look away this time.

  Tiernan

  “Ah!” a whimper rings though my ears, and I shoot up in bed, popping my eyes open.

  I cough, sweat covering my brow.

  The smell… I let out a sob as my eyes burn. My hair hangs in my face, blowing out with my heavy breaths, and my stomach aches as the knots tighten.

  What the hell? I cough again, unable to catch my breath.

  God. Only remnants of my dream remain, but I can still smell that stench. The pungent, soapy candles gagging me…

  Nausea rolls through me as I press the back of my hand to my mouth, and something rises in my throat. Commotion echoes in the house, but pain wracks my body, and I can’t take it. Throwing off my covers, I stumble out of bed, falling to my hands and knees, and scramble toward the trashcan.

  I grab the one by my desk and hover over it, heaving.

  The odor clogs my nostrils and fills my throat. I don’t remember what the dream was about, but I couldn’t breathe. I still can’t. I gasp.

  The bile rises up, and I lurch, coughing and gagging over the can, gripping both sides. Why do I still smell it? It’s all over me like it was all over every inch of furniture in my parents’ room, and I start crying, rubbing the chill off my arms as dirt weighs my skin.

  I shake, my sobs breaking loose as the nausea subsides and sadness takes over. I feel like I’m in that house again. I hadn’t realized how I hadn’t felt that in days now.

  The cold. The sterile silence and the serrated air stinging my nostrils. That house where the walls were too hard and there was nothing that wasn’t sharp.

  I suck in deep breaths and tuck my hair behind my ear, the scent of the wood and the trees outside slowly overshadowing the memory of the candles.

  Falling to my ass, I lean back against the wall, my arms propped up on my knees as I squeeze my eyes shut and tears wet my cheeks.

  Ugh, that feeling.

  I don’t want to feel it again. I shake my head. I don’t want to go back there ever again.

  I’m here. I’m in Colorado, with them and the wind and the warm fire and the new smells.

  The floor creaks above me, and I open my eyes, slowly raising them up to the dark ceiling.

  Kaleb. His room is above mine. A piece of furniture shifts across the floor, another creak here and a stomp there, but then I hear a cry behind me and feel something hit the wall.

  Noah’s next to me, and I rest the back of my hand against the wall by my head, feeling his headboard hitting on the other side again and again, the thuds speeding up.

  I drop my hand, listening to their panting and moaning. Tears well again, but I let them fall without another sob.

  I wish he was alone. He’d probably let me crawl into bed with him tonight, if I wanted. Like a big brother keeping the wolves at bay, because I had a scary dream.

  I wouldn’t try, even if he were alone, but…

  It’s a nice little fantasy.

  Warm.

  Safe.

  Comfort.

  Noah’s like that.

  I stand up and lean my forehead into the wall, listening to the boys make love to girls and the ache filling me up, because I’m alone in here, forgotten and… jealous. Why am I jealous?

  I squeeze my eyes shut, the tears streaming down over my parched lips, and shake my head.

  Walking over, I open my bedroom door and head into the hallway, the noise filling the house louder now. Girls giggle in Noah’s room as a cry echoes from above, followed by moaning, and I pass by, fog in my head as I slowly drift down the stairs.

  The cool air hits my bare legs, but it’s a welcome relief as it eases my muscles. I should put a robe on, but I don’t give a shit. I have my first assignment for school due tomorrow that’s far from finished, and I should probably log back into Twitter to see if that girl made good on any of her threats, but I just can’t muster a care in the world about any of it tonight.

  I walk through the dark living room, the fire from earlier now extinguished as the black hollow of the fireplace looms to my right, stained with soot. The clock chimes the hour, but I lose count as I head into the kitchen, trying to swallow through the dryness in my throat.

  Filling up a glass of water, I lift it to my lips and take several gulps, swallowing fast and emptying the glass. I immediately f
ill it up again and tip my head back, drinking until I finally feel satisfied.

  I stare out the window above the sink. In a matter of weeks, snow will cover the ground. The house will be quiet, no women for miles or months.

  They’re like demons. How do they do it year after year?

  How will I do it this year?

  They’re not my parents. They engage me, and every time they do a flood of feelings I’m not used to navigating comes out and I do or say something stupid.

  Or my body wants to respond in ways it shouldn’t.

  I rinse out my glass and set it back in the dish rack, leaning against the sink ledge and gazing out the window, staring at nothing.

  Locked up here for months with them, I’ll go crazy. They’ll drive me insane. Someone will end up dead.

  Something sounding like keys jingle to my right, and I startle, jerking my head around.

  Jake sits in the dark corner at the kitchen table, and I straighten, my heart hammering in my chest. He stares at me.

  His finger is threaded through the ring of his car keys as he flips them and catches them in his fist with a beer bottle sitting nearby, and I take in his jeans, minus the shirt.

  Heat rises to my cheeks, every inch of my visible skin suddenly feeling so much more exposed now as he watches me. I thought he was in his room.

  He doesn’t look like he’s been in his room at all, though. He still has his work boots on.

  I hold in my shiver, but the points of my breasts harden to rocks through my tank top, and I fold my arms over my chest. I can’t tell if he sees, but a moment later he rubs his finger over his lips.

  “What…” I choke out and clear my throat. “What are you doing?”

  The music turns on upstairs blasting “Devil in a Bottle,” but Jake just sits there, and I can see where Kaleb gets his silence. Not talking and not communicating are two different things.

  I take a step over toward the island, shielding myself. “Where’s your…friend?” I ask softly.

  “Home.”

  The women all came from the race with us, so he must’ve had to take her back to town himself. Wonder what cut the night so short.

  “Not in the mood?” I tease.

  But instead of smiling it off, he cocks his head at me, something playing behind his eyes that makes my stomach drop a little.

  He hasn’t gone off on me. Why? I’m down here half-dressed in my panties. Why isn’t he barking at me to get some clothes on? Or go to bed?

  “I was hungry,” I explain, barely able to meet his eyes. “Are you?”

  Again, he just sits there, his eyes on me and only me.

  But he doesn’t say no, and he doesn’t tell me to go get dressed.

  Tell me I’m acting up. Tell me to get my ass upstairs and into some pajamas.

  But he doesn’t.

  And I back up, my heart thumping but feeling bold as I turn for the fridge and pull out some eggs. I dare myself, sure that he’ll yell at me any second.

  I push it further, walking around the island to get the pan, still waiting for him to tell me to get upstairs.

  But he doesn’t, and my eyes burn. Maybe I’m picking a fight.

  Or maybe I like to be looked at.

  I don’t go upstairs, though.

  Moving around the dark kitchen, I keep the lights off as I set the pan on the burner—frying up some butter as I crack and whisk eggs. I add some garlic and Creole seasoning, aware of his eyes on my back and on my every movement. I have no idea what my hair looks like after sleep and the fit I had afterward, but I love the way it feels hanging over my shoulders and down my back. Kind of like what someone touching me would feel like.

  My light pink silk panties hug my ass, the bikini straps sitting just below my hips and leaving two inches of skin between them and my gray cami exposed. I reach up, putting the spices away as the muscles in my legs and ass flex, wanting him to see it.

  “Why are you awake?” he asks in a raspy voice.

  I scrape the eggs over the pan. “Who can sleep with all this noise going on?”

  I might be able to sleep through Kaleb, but I definitely can’t sleep through Noah.

  I look over at Jake as he rubs his thumb up and down one of the keys, Kaleb’s warm fury playing behind his eyes.

  Their noise is different than Noah’s. It’s silent but deafening.

  I drop my gaze again, heat spreading across my face as I traipse barefoot to the fridge once more and grab the cheese, grating a handful over the eggs and stirring as I turn off the heat. His eyes are boring into me. I can feel it, and every inch of my skin is alert. I squeeze my eyes shut for a split moment, warmth spreading low in my belly.

  Some melted cheese gets on my fingers, and I hiss at the burn. Quickly, I lick it off my forefinger and suck it off my thumb, piling half the eggs on a plate for Jake.

  “Here you go,” I only manage a whisper as I lift it up.

  But he’s suddenly there, behind me. He takes the plate and sets it back down on the counter.

  I freeze.

  His chest covers my back, and I smell him like I did today when we fished, warm skin touching mine and tingles spreading down my arms and thighs, only now, I don’t think I’ll run away.

  I want to feel this.

  “Why’d you run from me today at the lake?” he asks.

  I remain quiet.

  But my skin hums, and all I can feel is him as the music pounds upstairs.

  “Why did you run?”

  I shake my head. I don’t know. I…

  “Tiernan…” he says in a strangled whisper.

  Like a regret. Like he knows exactly why I ran.

  “I don’t think this is a good idea, after all,” he says behind me. “We’re not…good influences on a girl.”

  “I’m not a girl.”

  “Have you ever had a man in your bed?” he asks in a ragged voice.

  My heart skips a beat.

  Slowly, I shake my head.

  He leans down close to my ear. “Have you ever been kissed?”

  I nod.

  “On places other than your mouth?”

  Heat pools between my legs. “No, Uncle Jake.”

  His body rises and falls behind me as he breathes into my hair, and I don’t turn around, because I’m afraid of breaking the spell.

  Reaching out, he rests his hand on top of mine on the counter, fitting our fingers together as a finger from his other hand softly glides down my spine. A light layer of sweat cools my skin.

  Doors slam upstairs as footfalls run from a bedroom to probably the bathroom, and I hear the shower start running as a girl’s laughter breaks out.

  “I’m sorry you have to see all this,” Jake says in a pained voice. “When the snow is coming, we soak it up, because we know we won’t see anything pretty all winter.”

  His finger traces slowly down my spine.

  All winter…

  I look down at his possessive hand on mine, remembering his eyes on me from the table a moment ago, and think of how it feels like something is barely being contained, and it hasn’t even snowed yet.

  They won’t be locked up here without a woman this year. They’ll have one.

  His hot breath filters through the strands of my hair to the back of my neck, and the flesh of my nipples pebble as his hands tease me so painfully gently.

  All winter…

  “I think you should leave, Tiernan.”

  I narrow my eyes, but I turn my hand over, craving his touch on my palms now. It feels so good, my eyelids flutter.

  “Leave the peak?” I ask.

  Or does he mean leave the kitchen?

  He doesn’t answer, and my stomach sinks a little, finally realizing what he’s telling me.

  Needles prick the back of my throat. “You said I was home.” I catch his hand mid-caress, thread our fingers, and curl mine to hold his hand tightly. “You said I was yours.”

  “This is no place for you.”

  Tear well again,
but I push them away. He talked me out of leaving yesterday morning, and now he wants me to go. He wants me to be alone. I’m always alone, and you made me know what it was like not to be, and you lied.

  “Why did my father give me to you?” I whisper, staring out the window and seeing my uncle’s reflection loom behind me. “They knew what they were going to do. They could’ve waited a few weeks until I was eighteen. They could’ve given me to Mirai.”

  I lean back into him more, savoring his warmth and his eyes on my body.

  “Maybe they didn’t think about it,” I murmur. “Or maybe they knew it was the only good thing they could do for me.”

  At least I was mentioned in the will. I wouldn’t be surprised if I weren’t.

  I yank out of his hand, pushing away from the counter, and charge away, but I don’t make it two steps. He grabs my arm, pulls my back into his chest, and I gasp as he wraps his arms around my body and forces my face around to look up at him.

  “Do you feel this?” he growls over my lips as he pushes me into the sink. The thick, hard ridge of his cock nudges my ass, and I groan. “This is what you’re doing to me, Tiernan. It’s not right. Instead of pile-driving the hot tits and ass I came home with, I’m sitting down here, trying to talk myself out of going into your room and giving the teenage piece of ass living in my house a really long kiss goodnight.”

  My clit throbs, and I shift on my feet, feeling the slickness between my legs.

  “And do I take off my panties for that?” I breathe out.

  He squeezes his eyes shut, groaning as if in pain, and I only have a moment to suck in a quick breath before his mouth covers mine, a whimper at the sweet pain escaping me.

  Fuck.

  Fuck…

  My heart damn near jumps out of my chest as he moves, taking my lips, and the heat of his tongue swirling down into my belly to between my legs. I cry out, but it’s lost in his mouth.

  Oh, my God.

  His taste fills my body, and I slide my hand up, taking the back of his neck and holding him to me. I’m so hungry. So hungry, and I can’t breathe. My blood races under my skin, and it feels so good, but God, I need more.