Virgil grunted, pulling at an IV line that he'd somehow managed to twist around his butt. Life was strange. One bad acid trip and he ended up taking a temporary teaching post at a no-name college in Appalachia. He only wanted to lie low until the police stopped nosing around. It wasn't his fault that that girl had decided she could fly and chose his fourth-story window as her launching pad.
Virgil coughed. His chest was sore.
As fate would have it, he met BettyAnn his first week in Persuasiona pretty, soft-spoken girl with a big problem and not a lick of sense. It didn't take him long to see that just paying attention to her made her follow him around like a puppy. She'd worshipped him. And why not? He was a sophisticated visiting art instructor, older than her and famous by Persuasion's standardsone of his sculptures had been featured in /Life/ magazine! BettyAnn was so grateful he'd married her that she did everything he told her to. She was a good girl. Sure, they'd had their rough patches, but it had been a marriage that workedshe got what she needed and he got what he wanted, which was something most people couldn't say about their blessed unions.
Virgil was just about to buzz for the nurse when the esteemed Dr.
Bohland strolled through the doorway. Virgil studied him, noting how much he'd aged in the year since he'd cared for BettyAnn.
Good morning, Virgil.
Nothin' good about it.
As his doctor flipped through his chart, Virgil decided that Riley Bohland had grown into a refined version of his daddy, with more smarts and less brawn. It was the younger Bohland kid who'd turned out to be a carbon copy of Aidana charming good ole boy who thought his last name gave him the right to tell people what to do with their lives.
Has the cardiologist seen you?
Of course not. I was simply thrown in here and left to rot. You people just want me for my insurance money.
Riley clipped the chart back to the foot of the bed and sighed. Maybe we just enjoy the pleasure of your company.
Virgil narrowed his eyes. Riley had a silly grin on his face. It had something to do with Kat; he could smell it. He sometimes wondered what would have happened with Kat and Riley if she hadn't run away. Probably nothing good.
Did you know Kat was coming to town?
Riley flinched ever so slightly at the question, then put the stethoscope in his ears and leaned close to Virgil. Nope. Please hold still for a moment.
It felt like an eternity, but Virgil did what he was told, waiting patiently as Riley pressed the cold metal disc onto his skin and asked him to take a deep breath.
Anything? Virgil asked.
I'm definitely hearing some irregularities. Dr. Zhou will be in to see you shortly, and you'll be in excellent hands.
Virgil grunted. He sounds like another damn foreigner.
She's originally from China.
A woman /and/ a foreigner? Jesus! I've hit the jackpot.
She trained at WVU, same as me.
Peking, Persuasionit's all the same nowadays, anyway, right? Virgil tried to adjust the pillows behind his back so he could sit more comfortably. This hospital looks like it's run by the UN. My nurse is from the Philippines. You must be the last American doctor in this state.
Riley smiled slightly at that. Not hardly. I'll be back to see you this evening.
Hold on a damn minute.
Riley turned, not bothering to hide the fact that this conversation apparently required every bit of patience he possessed.
I never liked your family much, Bohland.
Riley shoved his hands in the pockets in his chinos and said nothing.
But you were a good doctor to BettyAnn and I want to thank you for that.
Riley looked shocked. You're welcome.
She always said good things about you. She liked you for some reason.
I'm glad.
Now, I never got around to asking you this, but what was it my wife said before she died, when she shooed me out of the room that day? Was it a medical question?
Riley frowned. I'm afraid I can't say, Virgil.
His face went hot with anger. Why the hell not? There were no secrets between us. I'm sure she'd want me to know.
Riley shifted uncomfortably. She asked that I not share it with you.
He shot up in bed so fast that an electrode popped off his neck. Liar!
His vision began to swim. My wife never kept anything from me! Never!
Calm down, Virgil.
A wall of pain slammed into his chest. His lungs caught fire. It's happening again, he gasped. Get the Chinese woman. Quick.
It happened on a Saturday morning when Kat was thirteen, in mid-May. The big lilac bush outside her bedroom window had blossomed. Lush, fluffy purple cones and dark green leaves blocked her view of the side yard and the broken split-rail fence that separated their property from Mrs.
Estes'. Because it was warm enough to sleep with the window open, Kat had woken up that particular morning with her senses filled with the deep, sugary sweetness of lilacsand the familiar sound of her mother being beaten.
Kat pulled the covers over her head and shook. Would this be a short one, or a long one? Should she shut her window so Mrs. Estes didn't hear? Exactly where in the house were they fighting? The hallway? Would she be able to run out the back door without them noticing? Would there be drops of blood on the wood floor? She hated cleaning up blood. She closed her eyes, clasped her hands together so hard it hurt, then bowed her head under her blankets. /Please, God, no blood today. That's all I ask./ She knew what would come next. On Monday, Kat's mom would have to tell the school that Kat had the flu, so she could stay home for a few days to put ice and Band-Aids on her mom's face and make sure she had aspirin. Kat hated that.
And she hated that she'd have to make meals because her mother would be too weak. Those dinners were always terrible, and not just because Kat wasn't the world's best cook. They were terrible because she would have to take a tray to her mother, who would eat propped up in bed, and then Kat and her father would sit there at the kitchen table, alone, long minutes of silence pierced with his usual warning: /Stop worrying about your mother or I'll really give you something to worry about./ She hated that he'd come home with flowers for her mom, like that was supposed to make everything all right, and her mom would tell Kat to fetch a vase and put them in water so she could /ooh/ and /aah/ over them from her sickbed, like the flowers weren't edged with brown and her eyes weren't rimmed in black-and-blue.
Kat hated that her dad would act all cheerful and announce that they were going to the Rialto for father-daughter movie night, where they'd catch the latest Arnold Schwarzenegger flick.
She hated that her mother refused to go to the doctor every time she got beat.
But more than anything, Kat hated that the single most important rule in her family was that none of this ever happened.
On that particular morning, Kat thought maybe she'd had enough of secrets. She got up out of bed, pulled on a pair of light blue seersucker shorts, a pale green T-shirt, and sneakers. She ran a comb through her hair and pulled it back in a ponytail. She decided to put off going to the bathroom, because she didn't want to risk opening her door. Kat pulled her nightstand to the windowsill, pushed the window open as wide as it would go, took out the screen, and climbed through, feet first. There was no way out but through the lilacs, so she jumped into the bush, breaking more than a few branches in the process. She rolled out into the grass, scraped, bleeding on the inside of her thigh, and covered in a sheen of tiny four-petaled purple buds. But she was out of there.
She ran down Forest Drive to Main Street, the soles of her shoes slapping at the concrete, purple specks flying off her like confetti.
Based on the fact that the Gerhards hadn't picked up their morning paper, she guessed it was about six-thirty. Riley would still be home, because baseball practice didn't start until nine.
She raced by the Missonis', the Ballingers', and the McClintocks', then took the usual shortcut through the Wilmers' backyard, j
umped the chain-link fence, and landed in the row of cedars that fringed the south end of lawn of the Bohland House. Like always, she ran across the lawn to the side of the house, then hopped up onto the large central air-conditioning unit so she could reach the porch railing. She walked along the railing until she could get a foothold on the wide ledge of the dining room bay window, then pulled herself up onto the tile roof.
Once she got a handhold on the window frame of the turret, she inched along until she got to the carport, remembering to avoid the three loose tiles on her way to Riley's window.
She didn't bother knocking on the glass because she didn't want to wake up Big Daddy or Matt. She pushed up the heavy old sash and threw her legs over the ledge, landing with a thud on Riley's floor. His room was a disaster, like always, and it smelled like sweaty socks. She took off her shoes and crawled under the covers with Riley, spooning against his back, his solid heat spreading through her like a blanket for her insides. She sighed. He woke up.
What the? Riley flipped over so fast he nearly tossed her out of the bed. Kat? Holy shit! Big Daddy's gonna skin me alive!
Sssshhhh. Kat put her arms around Riley's waist and pulled him close.
She felt her body begin to tremble.
Oh no, Scout. Is he doing it again?
She nodded, keeping her face buried in his neck. Riley was the only person who ever used that nickname, and it sounded so comforting and safe that she wanted to cry. She took a deep breath of himhe smelled earthy and sweet, and she could detect the lingering traces of bath soap and deodorant. He had probably taken a shower just before bed.
I'm calling the police this time.
He'll take it out on me.
I'm telling Big Daddy, then. Maybe he can talk some sense into him. One day he's going to kill her.
Please just hold me.
Riley did. He brought his arms around her back and hugged her as tight as she could stand. After a few moments, he raised his hand to the back of her head, and slipped her hair from the ponytail holder. Kat snuggled closer, feeling her ribs against his. She felt her small breasts being squashed between them. She threw her top leg over his and held on, like they were falling through the sky and he was the only one with a working parachute.
When she couldn't hold it in anymore, she cried.
Riley let her, stroking her hair and whispering to her that everything would be all right.
Who do you love? he asked.
Riley James Bohland, forever and ever, she said between sobs.
Who do I love?
Katharine Ann Cavanaugh, forever and ever.
That's right. And when we get married, we're going to live so far away that Virgil will be nothing but a bad memory. What kind of car do you want?
A Jeep with the top down.
And what's the first house we're going to buy together?
The ski cabin in Colorado.
Then?
The beach house in California.
Next?
Our penthouse in New York.
Are you doing OK?
Kat nodded, her tears slowing. I'm always OK when I'm with you.
Good. How many kids will we have?
Two.
One girl and one boy?
Yes.
Which will be first?
The girl.
No, the boy.
Kat giggled a little.
And what will we do for the rest of our lives?
Be happy.
That's right. Riley kissed the top of her head. Hey, you got little purple things all over you.
Kat pulled her face from its hiding place in the crook of his neck and looked up into his blue eyes, so deep they almost looked black. I fell into a lilac bush.
How'd that happen?
She felt kind of silly, but she told him the truth. I jumped out of my bedroom window.
You're all wet.
Kat sniffled and wiped her eyes. Sorry. All my crying must have gotten your shirt wet.
No. I mean down here on your legs. You're wet.
I think I got scraped up and I'm bleeding.
Riley tossed back the covers and pulled away so he could look at her. Oh my God! he whispered.
Kat stared down at the front of Riley's body and gasped. Something shifted inside her core. The awareness was so deep and intense it was almost uncomfortable. She'd heard about how this could happen to boys, that sometimes guys woke up with hard-ons because they'd had sex dreams.
But she didn't know they got /that/ hard!
She continued to gawk. A rush of heat moved through her, the likes of which she'd never experienced. Her mouth went dry. Her nipples tingled.
All she wanted was to press up against that hardness. Her body insisted she do it.
Shit, Kat. There's blood all over you.
I told you I got scraped up.
No. I'm mean it's smeared all over the inside of your legs. /What?/ Kat looked down at herself and froze in embarrassment. This could not be happening. Blood had soaked through the crotch of her seersucker shorts and spread out into the fabric. A thin, sticky smear of red covered the inside of both of her thighs.
I think you started your period.
Kat recoiled, pushing herself away from Riley as she groaned out in horror. What girl would want the boy she loved to see that? What had she ever done to deserve such a terrible fate? She leaped up from the bed, and Riley followed her.
Kat was heading toward the window when he jumped in front of her, blocking her exit. Kat couldn't stop herselfshe looked to see if he was still hard. He was. Harder, even. She tried to swallow, but it was like she couldn't remember how.
You started your period. So what? It's no big deal.
She put her face in her hands and wanted to stay hidden there forever, but Riley peeled her fingers away.
No biggie, Scout. Seriously.
No /biggie/? I want to die, I'm so embarrassed! I just came over here because I had to be with you and there is nobody else I could tell and I didn't even check and It's your first one, right? Here. Let me clean you up. Riley grabbed a towel that was draped over a chair and squatted in front of her.
Gingerly he used the towel to dab at her thighs, frowning in concentration as he worked.
Kat looked down at his curly dark head, realizing there was something wonderful and scary about what Riley was doing. He was more comfortable with her body functions than she was. Taking care of her came naturally to him. The fact that someone loved her that much stunned her, and hot tears began to roll down her face.
OK. Riley stood up, throwing the towel on the floor, avoiding her eyes.
Maybe there's still some of my mom's stuff around here. I can go check.
Riley? she whispered.
He turned back toward her. He swallowed hard. God, Kat.
There was a need in Riley's eyes that she'd never seen before. The space between them suddenly felt charged, alive. Riley had been everything to her through all the thirteen years of her lifeplayground enemy, teasing dweeb, friend, brother, lab partner, protector, confidant, and boyfriend. By fourth grade it was understood that they were destined to be together always. There had never been any question. But in an instant, all that had changed. Suddenly, this wasn't a game anymore. It was dead serious.
Riley leaned down and kissed her. He'd been kissing her since the sixth-grade carnival, so she was familiar with all his different kinds of kissesthe soft ones, the ones where he tried to put some of his tongue in her mouth, the ones where he made little noises. This kiss was different from all the others. His lips met hers with such purpose that she felt nailed to the floor. His mouth moved on her like he wanted to gobble her up. Her mind was jumbled with images and thoughtsthe shame of the blood on her thighs, the shock of his lips, the heat she felt deep inside her body, the outline of Riley's… well, his /penis/, all big and hard and looking like it was ready to bust through his red nylon shorts.
The kiss continued. Riley's hands found their way to her bottom, a
nd though they'd never been there before, it felt perfectly natural to have his hands clamped tight, one on each cheek. Oh, she tried! She really did! But Kat couldn't stop herself. As the kiss intensified, she put her shaking hands down inside the elastic waistband of Riley's shorts, encountering prickly hair and the strangest flesh. It was like velvet and metal at the same time. She wrapped her fingers around its fullness, stroked it once, and noticed that it jumped all by itself. She then pulled it completely free of the fabric and cupped it in her palm, stopping the kiss so she could look down at the amazing thing in her hand.
Without warning, Riley's body shook and a stream of white stuff came shooting out of his penis, landing belly level on her T-shirt.
That's the exact moment Big Daddy knocked on the door and entered without waiting for a response. Kat and Riley jumped apart and stood at attention like they were facing a firing squad, which was exactly the case. Kat's mind began to race through everything that Big Daddy must have seen in front of himhis son shoving his private parts back down in his shorts, a girl standing next to a bloody towel, and, worst of all, the evidence of what they'd been up to all over the front of the girl's shirt.
Big Daddy's form seemed to take up every inch of the doorway. He leaned against the frame and crossed his arms over his chest.
Riley took a step forward, partially blocking Kat. Daddy, it's not what you think.
Son, I'm a fifty-two-year-old man. I ain't fallin' for the okey-doke here. I know what I see and I know what it is.
Big Daddy's gaze fell on Kat. She wished she were dead as the mayor of Persuasion quickly surveyed her state, then sucked on his teeth. He cleared his voice, and it came out in its usual gruff way, but tinged with sweetness. Scoot on in the washroom and fix yourself up, Kat.
Yes, sir. She scootedgladlyand closed the bathroom door behind her with relief. She could hear the conversation just fine from behind the closed door.
Daddy, you don't understand
Sure I do.
Kat pressed her ear up against the thick wood. Her knees were knocking, she was so scared. What would Big Daddy do? If he told her parents that she was here, her life would be over. Just the thought of her father knowing anything about this made her dizzy. She always knew that if he ever got the right excuse, her father's fists would find her face just as easily as they found her mother's. This would be all it took.
The girl most likely to… Page 8
