by K. Webster
* * *
* * *
Atticus borrowed a covered trailer from his dad because in his rush to get me back to town for medical help, he left his at Reed’s. It’s been a couple of days since the man stole our fruit and I can’t help but look over my shoulder every time we bring another box to pack inside the trailer.
“Everything okay?” Atticus asks as he exits the trailer.
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
I shrug. If I learned anything from Atticus, it’s sometimes we have to lie. Like now. I lie because if I tell him my concerns, he’ll scour the woods again for hours looking for the man. And when he does that, I feel isolated and alone. I don’t like being in his cabin without him. I’d rather keep him by my side.
“Want to go to Muskies for dinner?” His hands grip my hips and he stares at me as if I’m the most lovely thing he’s ever seen.
“I might stab Rex. Better not. Oatmeal it is.”
He snorts. “You’ve been watching too much Friends. You’re becoming quite the comedian.”
“We could go into the bedroom and I could pretend to be Rachel and—”
His lips fuse to mine, silencing my words. I smile into his kiss. It’s cold outside, but in his arms, I’m warm. Our kiss grows heated quickly. He takes to nipping my lips and then my jaw and then his favorite place…my throat. I groan, loving the way he feels there, and roll my head to give him better access.
“This.” He sucks hard. “Is.” Another claiming suck. “Mine.”
I giggle when he tickles my side and it isn’t until Blind Bear barks that we realize a car is driving down the path to his cabin. I’m shoved behind him as he reaches for his Glock at his belt. He always carries it around now.
“Oh fuck.”
“What is it? The man?” My fear bleeds into my words.
“No. Worse.”
What could be worse?
The car stops and a woman screeches. “You have a phone, son. Use it.”
He groans. “My mother.”
My heart swells. It makes me miss my own mother tremendously. The blond woman is small like me but has Atticus’s face minus the facial hair.
“Hey, Ma,” he says, stepping forward to hug her.
She accepts his hug and then moves him aside. “Let me see the girl.”
Atticus shoots me a reassuring look. “Ma, meet Eve. Eve, this is my ma, Susan.”
The woman starts for me and I nearly trip over my own boots trying to escape.
“A bear got you?” she asks.
I nod and make a clawing motion across my chest.
Sadness gleams in her green eyes that match Atticus’s. When she reaches for me, I stumble again in my effort to get away.
“She’s skittish around strangers,” Atticus says. “Why don’t we go inside and have some coffee?”
His mother studies me intently. “I think I’d like that.”
I crave to take Atticus’s hand, but I know now’s not the time. She’s his mother, but how do I know she won’t turn on him and take him to prison?
As soon as we make it inside, his mother sheds her coat and starts tidying up. I shoot him a questioning look, but he simply shrugs as if this is normal. He steps into the kitchen to start the coffee and I linger by the door with my dog.
“What in the heavens happened to your window?” she gasps, hands on her hips. “Bears?”
“Man,” I say harshly as though the word is bitter on my tongue.
His mother blinks at me and then darts her gaze to Atticus.
“Rock through the window. The guy stole our fruit.”
“I see,” she replies and then turns her scrutinizing glare on me. “Where did you come from, honey?”
I open my mouth, but Atticus answers for me.
“Reed. A friend of mine. It’s his daughter.”
His mother’s lips purse into a line. “Same spiel you gave your brother.”
“It’s not a spiel,” Atticus mutters.
“How old are you?” she asks.
“Sixteen,” he answers as I say, “Eighteen.”
He winces and I stand taller. I don’t know why he’s afraid of this little woman. I’m not. I dig my hand in my coat pocket, checking for my knife. Atticus watches my actions and rolls his eyes.
“Hmmm,” his mother says. “I’ll take that coffee now. Got anything strong to lace it with?”
“No, Ma.”
“Tragedy.” She sits at the table. “So you got a boyfriend, huh? That’s what Will told me. A little too young to be having a boyfriend. Young ladies should be focusing on their future. What college do you plan on attending—”
“Ma,” Atticus snaps. “Enough with the interrogations. Jesus. You’re worse than Will and he’s a damn cop.”
“She’s a mystery and you’re hiding something. I’m your mother. I know these things.”
“There’s nothing to know,” he mutters.
I wince at those words.
“You’re not seeing that Rex boy, are you? I swear Evan can keep better friends than him. I heard he has tattoos.” She shakes her head.
“I have tattoos,” Atticus reminds her.
“Yours are art, my boy. But he’s too young. Do you have any tattoos?” This question is aimed my way. She leans closer, her elbows resting on the table. “What’s that on your neck? Has this boyfriend been putting his hands on you?”
“Ma! Enough!”
Her brow deepens. “You both should come for dinner.”
“We’re leaving in the morning to go see her dad.” Atticus’s tone is final.
“Lovely. Tonight I’m making lasagna. See you at seven.”
“What’s wrong?”
I blink away my tears and stare out the window. I don’t answer him because I don’t think I can speak without crying.
“Baby,” he says, reaching across the cab of his truck for my hand. “What’s wrong?”
I jerk my hand from his. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he demands, his voice harsh.
“Don’t touch me.”
He lets out a growl of frustration. The truck slams to a stop on the side of a dark road. I can feel his penetrating glare on me.
“Baby, look at me.”
“No.”
“Jesus, woman! Why are you so stubborn?”
I give him a scathing glare. “Fuck you.”
He gapes at me in shock. “Did you just curse at me?” His fingers run through his hair. “You watch too much television.”
“You say that word a million times a day!” I accuse. “Why can’t I say it?”
“Because you’re sixteen goddamn years old!”
“I’m not sixteen,” I snap back.
“Oh, here we go again. You’re eighteen now. I remember. You keep telling everyone that now like it’ll stick. Newsflash, baby, it’s not fucking sticking.”
“Drive.” I face forward, ignoring him.
“You don’t get to order me around, Eve.”
“Drive!”
“Get over here.”
“DRIVE!”
He unbuckles my seat belt, grabs my hips, and hauls me into his lap. I struggle against his hold, but he has no problems settling me with my legs spread. I’m wearing my only dress—hoping his mother would like it—and feeling especially vulnerable.
“Calm the fuck down and tell me why you’re upset.” His green eyes plead with me.
Now that his anger has dispelled and given way to concern, my own fury evaporates like a mist. My shoulders hunch and I tremble.
“You want me to lie to everyone.” Hot tears streak down my cheeks. “I don’t want to lie.”
“I don’t want to lie either,” he admits, pressing a kiss to my neck. “But we have to.”
“They’re your family, though.”
“I wish it were that easy. We need to just make it through tonight. Tomorrow we’ll go see Reed and Devon.”
His words don’t help the gaping hole in my chest. Nothin
g feels right. I feel half full. Incomplete. I start to slide off his lap, but his fingers bite into my thighs. Familiar heat burns in my stomach, chasing away the achiness.
“Everything is going to be okay, Eve. Even if we have to wait two years to tell anyone. We’ll survive this. I love you too much not to.”
Rather than returning his sentiment, I crash my lips to his. His strong hands grab onto my bottom, squeezing and pulling me against his hard cock between us. Frantically, he works at his belt and then jeans to free his cock. I greedily rub against him. His fingers pull my silky red panties to the side and he taps the tip of his cock against my clit.
“Get on there,” he orders.
I fight a smile as I slide down over his length. When we’re together like this, I forget I was even mad at him. Once I’m seated, I go back to kissing him as he bounces me on his cock.
“We gotta be quick, or we’ll be late to dinner,” he murmurs, nipping at my bottom lip. He massages my clit in an expert way that has me seeing stars. Over and over again until I lose all sense of reality.
“Oh!” I cry out, losing myself to the pleasure.
His thrusting becomes harder, faster, out of control. Then, he groans as his heat fills me. With his cock still throbbing inside me, he pulls away to look at me.
“I’m going to be hard as fuck through dinner knowing you’re full of my cum.” He presses kisses along my jaw to my ear. “Wife.”
He gives my thigh a squeeze and flashes me a smile. “Relax. You look like you’re about to take off running.”
I consider it. Now that we’re in his parents’ driveway, I wonder how far I can make it. Probably not far in this impractical dress. What was I thinking?
My panties are wet as Atticus’s cum slowly trickles out of me. It makes me squirm in my seat, wondering if they’ll notice. Then our secret would be out. Would they try and drag him away from me? My palm curls around the hilt of my knife in my pocket. They could try.
The truck door opens and Atticus watches me with narrowed eyes. He takes my hand, helping me out of the big truck. Instead of releasing me, he steals a chaste kiss.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Eve. Trust me, I’d much rather brag to the damn world you’re mine. One day I will. For now, we have to take what we can get and that’s each other. The rest can wait.”
His words cause chaotic fluttering in my belly. “Your cum is leaking out of me.”
“Eve,” he growls, his nostrils flaring as he caresses my cheek. “You can’t say shit like that to me right before we walk in to see my parents.”
I touch him through his jeans. Hard as stone. “It’s the truth. We’re about to have to lie. I just wanted to tell the truth while we still could.”
“Later,” he murmurs, dragging his palm down the side of my neck, “I’m going to pull those silky panties off with my teeth, wrap them around my dick, and jack off all over your sexy little ass.”
I thread my fingers in his hair and kiss him deeply. My heart races in my chest with the need for him to consume me. In the end, he pulls away with a harsh groan as if it physically pains him to do so.
It pains me too.
“Come on,” he says, his voice husky, as he takes my hand.
Together we walk toward his parents’ large home. I lean against his shoulder, stealing what little time we have left before he pretends I’m nothing to him again. I’m lost in thought when I feel it.
Awareness.
The hairs rising on the back of my neck.
A cold chill down my spine.
I pull my knife out, halting on the snow-covered path. Atticus abruptly pulls his hand from mine and I wonder if he’s readying himself to fight too.
“Hey, Dad,” Atticus says toward the dark porch.
A giant man appears from the shadows. I stumble back a step. His hair is white and the length is nearly as long as Atticus’s. He’s bundled up all in black with a cap on his head. His beard is also white, but trimmed short against his face.
“This is Eve.” Atticus’s voice is tight and it makes me nervous. Is he afraid of his father like I was of mine? “Eve, this is my dad, Abel.” His palm finds my back and he gently guides me toward the man.
As soon as his brown eyes come into focus, I tense up. I know this man. The knife in my grip falls to the ground as I shake, a terrified mewl crawling up my throat.
“Hey,” Atticus croons. “It’s just my father. He’s not going to hurt you.”
The look on Abel’s face says otherwise. Stern. Almost angry. Disgusted. I cringe, hiding behind Atticus’s back. My heart stampedes in my chest as fear makes the world around me darken and spin.
I don’t feel so well.
The spinning gets worse.
It stops as black bleeds into my vision, stealing me from this moment.
* * *
* * *
Eve just collapses.
Scares the fuck out of me too.
Dad’s footsteps thunder as he rushes for us. I scoop my little fox in my arms, panic surging through me.
“She okay?” Dad grunts out, his worried eyes meeting mine.
“She passed out.” I storm up the steps. “I think she was freaked the fuck out.”
He doesn’t say a word, simply follows me into the house that smells like Ma’s amazing lasagna. I can hear my brothers and sister teasing each other and Mom nagging at them to quit. Ignoring them all, I carry Eve over to the sofa and set her down.
“Eve,” I croon. “Wake up.”
She’s so pale. In the lamplight, wearing her big coat, she seems so small and fragile. So young. Guilt threatens to gnaw at me, but I don’t let it. I promised her we could be together as long as we kept it quiet. Her age is something I have no problems forgetting about when my cock’s buried deep inside her.
“I’ll get Vic,” Dad says, stalking off.
I pull her coat off her and then drape it over her bare legs.
Less than a minute later, my brother and EMT, rushes over to us. He has the same golden blond hair as I do, but he has Dad’s brown eyes. Vic has also adopted Will’s clean-cut look and has his hair clipped short to his head.
“What happened?” he asks, launching right into first responder mode.
“She got scared, I think, and passed out.”
He checks her pulse with his fingers and then gives me a nod. “Pulse is steady. I think she’ll wake soon—”
Her brown eyes pop open and like a cornered animal, she hisses. I nudge him out of the way to sit next to her on the sofa.
“You’re okay,” I assure her, taking her hand. “You fainted.”
“What in heaven’s name—” Mom starts as she enters the living room with Will, Evan, and Judith in tow.
“Peanut butter crackers, Ma,” Vic says. “Grab a Sprite too. Could be low blood sugar. When was the last time she ate?”
I don’t remember.
My mind is blank because my worry over her has consumed every thought.
Dad gently touches Vic’s shoulder. “Give them some air. Everyone is overwhelming them.” He gestures for everyone to leave, but he remains.
Eve’s narrowed eyes pin him in place. She trembles as though she fears he might hurt her.
“It’s okay, little one,” Dad says and then grins at her.
Her head cocks to the side, her gaze fixated on his mouth. “He has teeth.”
Dad snorts. “Perceptive, this one.”
I squeeze her hand. “He does. How are you feeling?”
Vic returns with a package of crackers and the soda. She loves peanut butter, so she devours all six crackers just as fast as I can hand them to her. When she sips the Sprite, her eyes light up with delight. My girl loves soda.
“Better?” I ask.
She nods and eyes the home with guarded curiosity. I don’t let her hand go. Not now. Not when she’s frightened out of her mind. With Rex and Evan, she wasn’t intimidated. But with both Will and my dad, it’s like their size terrifies her. It’s strange beca
use I’m about the same size as Will and am nearly as big Dad, yet she’s not afraid of me.
Her fingers thread with mine, making my heart rate quicken. I should tug them away, but I can’t. She’s so broken. They can drag my ass to prison. I’m not letting her hand go.
“Tell me how you know this little one again,” Dad says, his voice soft as to not startle her.
I flash her an apologetic look. “My friend Reed’s daughter. She was hurt by a bear. I am looking after her until she heals. We’re actually headed back there. I think we’ll leave tonight instead of tomorrow. Just have to swing by the house after this to grab her dog and my trailer.”
“Hmmm,” Dad says.
He and Vic share a look I interpret all too well. A look that says, He’s lying.
“Hi, Eve,” Judith chirps. “You don’t know me, but you’re wearing one of my old dresses.” She grins at Eve. “Looks totally cute on you.”
Eve fidgets, but chances a look in my sister’s direction. Judith sits on the arm of the couch, giving the rest of us an eye roll.
“You guys just gonna stare at her all night like a bunch of fuckin’ creeps?” Judith softens her words with a sassy smile that used to get her ass grounded in high school.
Dad chuckles. “Watch your mouth, girl.” Then, he pats my shoulder. “Mind if we talk for a sec?”
Eve’s eyes widen. Before I can calm her, Judith inches her way closer. At least Judith knows the whole story—aside from the part that I actually did what she assumed I’d do and fuck Eve—but I’m guessing she’ll figure it out on her own.
“Did you like the flashlight?” Judith asks her. “You know the one.” She waggles her eyebrows.
“Batteries,” Eve chirps.
Judith laughs and then starts chattering about her usual nonsense. I mouth to Eve I’ll be right back. Reluctantly, I release her hand and stand to follow my dad out of the room. Vic hovers nearby in case he’s needed. Dad pulls me into his study, a worried look on his face.
“You sleeping with the girl?”
“W-What?”
His lips press together in a firm, disappointed way I remember all too well when I was a boy. “You must think I’m nine kinds of stupid, son.”
