Born Savages
Page 14
For whatever reason, this girl is deprived as all hell and every inch of her is shrieking for a good, dirty screw. In truth, I’d be game to give it to her, right here and now, but I’m not going to let her off the hook that easy.
“You know,” I whisper into her ear, “America would probably get off on some hot and filthy incest.”
Her face twists and her body tenses. There we go. God, she’s angry. Shit, it’s hot.
“You son of a bitch.”
“Maybe. No one’s ever claimed the job though so as far as I’m concerned I’m Mina Savage’s kid.”
“The hell you are.”
“Eh, a moot point at this juncture. But it’d be good for ratings if we offered the folks at home something to spank their shit around to. In any case, if you’re unwilling, there are other options. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen Lita around yet.”
I’m hitting way below the belt now. The mere mention of Ren’s mother is like a slap across her face. There’s more than one reason for that.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” she whispers.
“If you believed that lying bitch then you think I already did fucking dare so what’s the harm in talking about it after all this time?”
“You bastard, I wouldn’t believe Lita if she told me the desert is dry.”
“The way I remember it, there seems to have been a few questions. Care to ask them now?”
“No!”
“Fine. We don’t need to talk.” I lean in so close I can nearly taste her. “I’d really rather not hear your voice when we’re getting busy anyway.”
She gives me the coldest of glares but she doesn’t fool me a damn bit. If I tear her pants open right now and shove my hand down there I know I’d get nothing but a warm, wet welcome as her pussy clenches my fingers like a vice. But her eyes flash again and she scoffs, keeping up the charade. “So this is who you are now. Nothing but trash?”
“I always was, Loren. Your mother told you so, remember? Gutter trash that can and did fuck anything with a hole. You knew it. Don’t tell me you didn’t get off on that. You loved it.”
The way she’s looking at me, she might start swinging both fists at my head. What the hell is wrong with me that I’m hard as iron right now? I’m not thinking about what we once had. Things have gone downhill fast since I walked into the barn and none of that long dead tenderness has any place here.
I want it rough and dirty. I want to bend her over, spread her wide and conquer the living shit out of her.
And I know she’d let me.
But then just like that all the fight fades from Ren. Her shoulders slump. She looks at the ground and bites her lip.
“Loren.” I reach out to touch her but stop short. It hurts suddenly because I know she’s no fucking actress. She looks miserable because she is miserable.
“No,” she whispers, writhing out of my grasp. “I can’t do this here.”
My hand falls to my side. “Here’s as good as anywhere else.”
She breathes, slowly, in and out. There seems to be a pattern to it, like maybe it’s some new age technique that’s supposed to clear her head. Maybe I was a jackass for barging in here like this, for blindsiding her on this absurd show in the first place. I’m not sure what I’m hoping for out of all this. But I’m not going anywhere until I figure it out.
“It’s not going to be so easy to dismiss me this time.”
She nods tiredly. “I didn’t think it would be.”
She leaves. I let her go. I stand there alone in a dusty barn, knowing I’m being watched and unable to make myself care. I shove my hands in my pockets and my left knuckle is scraped by an object. I withdraw the rock I’d casually picked up on my morning hike. It looks completely ordinary, parts beige and pinkish red. It isn’t valuable. If you tumble it in a rock polisher for a month it will emerge with a brilliant red color. I like it the way it is though. Five years ago I had a rock just like this and then I lost it. At the time I didn’t even know what it was, just a thing that I’d grabbed as a hasty keepsake because I’d just had the best night of my life and wanted to keep the memory close.
As it turned out, forgetting would have been merciful. I couldn’t forget the most important parts. I’ve spent five long years trying.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Five Years Ago: Part 3
“What is that?”
“What?”
“You just swiped something from the ground.”
He holds it up for her. She squints in the gray light of pre-dawn.
“It’s a rock,” she says, puzzled. “Why?”
Oscar drops it into his pocket. “Just because.”
Ren hugs him suddenly, fiercely. “I don’t want this to end.”
He feels giddy. He kisses her upturned face, briefly playing his tongue over her lips. He doesn’t know how he’s going to stand letting her go in a few minutes when they reach Atlantis. “No night lasts forever.”
A sigh rolls through her, a sad one. “I didn’t mean the night. I meant us.”
“There’s no end, baby. Not for us. This is just the beginning.”
The chill of the night desert causes her to shiver, ever so briefly. The sun hadn’t even dipped over the horizon when they set out hours earlier. Now it is utterly dark. He holds her to his side possessively, running every moment through his head.
No one had seen them go. Oscar is sure of it. The only question mark is Ren’s brother Spence, who they glimpsed trotting through the valley on his horse. Even if Spencer had seen them though he wasn’t the type to go gossiping about it.
She’d been asking to see the cave for weeks, the one that had always been rumored to exist around here and which he’d finally found on a solitary early morning hike. It wasn’t a great cave, barely worth looking at in fact when compared side by side with some of the overwhelming caverns he’d climbed into during his years overseas.
Ren didn’t care about that though. She was enchanted by the strange, romantic idea of a secret place. A place that seemed to exist only for them.
The cave was nestled into the side of the mountain with only a shallow outcropping of rock to navigate by. The entrance was a stretched, round shape, kind of like a yawning mouth. Oscar had enough sense to stuff some flashlights in the backpack that also carried bottled water.
He’d be lying if he didn’t admit he was making plans during the hike up there. After all, he’d taken care to swipe a few condoms from Monty before heading out. The entry to the cave was narrow but short, ending in a small oval room that smelled of rain and wild things.
It was there Ren sank down to her knees without a word. Enough sunlight filtered in so he could see her, barely. She lifted his shirt, ran her tongue over the hard muscles of his belly and then searched lower. He wanted her to, and then he didn’t. He stopped her before she got further. He took his shirt off and spread it on the ground, lowering her on top of it. His heart thudded in his chest even though he wasn’t shy around any girl, not ever.
But then, there were no other girls like this one.
She’d never told him it was her first time, but she didn’t have to. He knew even before her body proved it to him. Afterwards, they were silent together, skin against skin, until the light began to fade and Oscar started to worry about getting down the trail in one piece.
Now, closing in on home and facing the reality that they will need to separate for a few hours, Oscar thinks that never in the history of people was it easier to walk beside someone.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, somewhat shyly. They are within sight of Atlantis now. At night it gets swallowed up by the desert, with only a few meager lights to tell the story of its existence. Oscar is thinking about the cave, about her. He’s thinking about whether it’s possible to know you’re making one of your life’s best memories while it’s happening. He swings an arm around her shoulder.
“I’m thinking about Cowboys and Indians.”
Ren laughs. “Why?”
“Our grandfather.” She’s teasing.
“Don’t fucking start.”
“Oh, don’t be angry with me, cousin.”
“I’m as much your cousin as the goddamn president. And as for Rex Savage, never met the guy and we’ve got no blood in common.”
Ren grows thoughtful. “I guess it’s a good thing he died before he got to see what became of us, the Savages.”
He peers down at her. “It’s not so bad, is it?”
“Depends on who you ask. To August, life is just fine. To Lita, it’s catastrophic.”
Oscar has to stop walking because he needs to wrap her in his arms. He’d like her to stay there forever. “What about if I asked you?”
A slight breeze lifts Ren’s hair and he is hit with the now familiar scent of her cherry vanilla shampoo. It’s got him going again. He can’t help it. He presses himself against her so she’ll feel it too, how bad he wants her.
“Oscar,” she sighs, “I’ve never been this happy before.”
“Me either.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He kisses her, long and deep. He wants more but they are getting close to the big house and anyway she wouldn’t be up to it so soon after her first time. It’s okay. There will be other nights.
They are coming around the south side of the big house, hoping not to be seen. Beyond the town, there’s a rickety fence surrounding some crumbling gravestones. The graves are not real, of course. Nothing about this place is real. It’s a fake cemetery where actors wept artificial tears over people who’d never existed in the first place. It was all a tragic fantasy to suit a story. The cemetery has always been left alone, kind of a macabre reminder of the world of make believe. Still, it gives Oscar the fucking creeps and he’d rather be elsewhere.
Suddenly there’s soft two-note whistle from the center of the fenced off square. It couldn’t be anything remotely supernatural. But Oscar nearly jumps out of his skin just the same. There are far worse things than ghosts that lurk in the darkness.
Instinct causes him to swivel and push Ren behind him, shielding her from whatever’s coming. His fists are tight. The whistle sounds again and the footsteps are nonchalant. Oscar relaxes a little. It’s probably just Monty. He’s enough of an asshole to hunker down in the dark just waiting for someone to pick a fight with.
The left side of Oscar’s face is still swollen from the last time they went it at three days ago. Oscar got in more good shots than he took though, so that’s something. They’ve been staying clear of each other since then. That’s the way things always go between him and Monty. Either they’re bashing each other’s faces bloody or they’re ignoring each other’s existence. Oscar knows there’s some deep rage in that guy and it has nothing to do with him. Yet there must be something redeeming about Monty because Ren always insists there is and Oscar would trust Ren with his life.
“Hey,” says the voice from the darkness and it’s not Monty.
“What’s up, Spence?” Ren asks, surprise in her tone. “What are you doing out here anyway?”
By the light of the full moon Oscar can see Spencer Savage has his hands jammed in his pockets. He gives a nod to Oscar and then focuses his attention on his sister. Of all Ren’s siblings he’s the only one Oscar would tentatively call a friend. The kid’s something of a puzzle. He’s quiet and serious and has a habit of avoiding people whenever he can. He’s all right though.
Spence take his hands from his pockets, removes his hat and yawns. “Just hanging out.”
Ren crosses her arms. It’s her big sister no-nonsense pose. “You’re not going to run off into the desert again are you?”
Spence has a habit of taking off when it suits him. A few weeks back he disappeared for two days and even his hellish mother was worried. When he casually strolled back into Atlantis he seemed rather bewildered by the fuss, shrugging everyone off with the explanation the he was camping and didn’t think anyone would miss him. It wasn’t a cry for attention, not with Spence. He felt like leaving so he left. Oscar could respect that, although Ren has said she wishes her younger brother needed people, just a little.
“Not today,” he answers casually. He looks at Oscar. “Actually I was waiting for you guys.”
“You were?”
“Yeah, I saw you head up to the trail earlier. You had to come home sooner or later.”
A light in the big house flicks on and then off again. Ren looks toward the house and frowns. “Something happen? Monty steal one too many beer cases and get carted off by the Consequences PD?”
“Maybe. But that’s not why I was waiting.” Spence clears his throat and fixes them both with a look of sympathy. Considering it’s Spence, this seems as abnormal as a jackrabbit playing Tic Tac Toe. Oscar can feel Ren’s rising tension. He takes her hand.
“Spill it,” Oscar orders. “What’s going on?”
The boy scratches at his head and seems to mull over his words carefully. “Look, I don’t have a problem with whatever’s going on between you, but not everyone feels that way.”
“Eh, whatever. I can handle Monty.”
“I’m not talking about Monty. He can be a dipshit but he doesn’t have a big mouth.”
For some reason a cold finger travels up Oscar’s spine. “But someone does?”
“Yeah, “ Spence admits slowly. “Someone does.”
Ren sucks in a breath. “Goddammit, why can’t Bree mind her own fucking business?”
“Who says Bree had anything to do with it?”
“Well who the hell else is a hair-flipping tattling little gossip?”
Spence exhales and glares at his sister with rare annoyance. “Jesus, Ren. You guys think you’re fucking invisible or what?”
Oscar lowers his head, understanding perfectly. Why were he and Ren kidding themselves that no one around them would notice anything was up? Here they were in an isolated place in the middle of a dull summer and lately they’ve been all over each other. He’d found a way to justify it, telling himself that they’d broken no laws and no one should raise an eyebrow over two teenagers getting together, not in this day and age. But now he silently curses his own fantastic idiocy. It’s not that simple. Not when the two teenagers in question both have the same famous last name.
Spence squirms, apparently regretting his brief outburst. He sighs and runs his hand through his dark hair again. “Look, this is the deal. Oscar, as long as you make my sister smile I won’t be getting all up in your shit. But we all know my mother’s an evil bitch and right now she thinks she’s found something to get bent out of shape about. I just wanted to warn you, that’s all.” He hops over the low fence and starts to walk away into the night. He spins around once and repeats, almost apologetically, “That’s all.”
As soon as the night swallows up Spencer Savage, Ren exhales and buries her face in Oscar’s chest. His arms circle her body and he imagines himself creating a protective cage where she’ll be safe. Safe from Lita, safe from the judgment of strangers, safe from the world.
“It’ll be okay, baby.” He hears his own confidence, tries to make it real.
“Will it?” she asks in a small voice. It’s the first time she’s ever hinted at doubt.
“Of course,” Oscar whispers. He kisses her mouth, her cheeks, her forehead.
She pulls back a few inches and tilts her head back, peering up at him defiantly. “I meant what I said. I love you. Not like a silly, giggly kind of crush that my sisters fall into every other week. I love you and it doesn’t matter what time or anything else does to us. Even if the worst happens and we’re ripped apart it will change nothing. I’ll still love you, Oscar.”
Ren is suddenly crying and he rubs her back, whispers nice things, tries to soothe her. Something about her desperate tone alarms him. Ren isn’t like this; she doesn’t dissolve into hysterics. The words she choked out were so strange,
impassioned.
“I know,” he assures her. “I know. I’ll still love you too. Anyone who wants to whine about how we’re too young or too reckless doesn’t understand a fucking thing about us. It’ll be okay,” he says once again, her face cupped between his palms. “I swear it.”
There’s no way to know how much time passes as they stand at the fenced edge of the cemetery in the moonlight and hold one another. It’s late but the hour is irrelevant. Oscar breathes her in, kisses her occasionally, and wonders what on earth in his history of casual conquests led him to deserve a girl like this.
Finally she pulls away from him, murmuring that she’d better get back to her room before anyone decides to make a stink about her absence.
The porch light is on at the big house. They hear voices, female voices, talking quietly so they circle around to the back. Ren has permanently disabled the lock on her window so that she can climb back inside without alerting anyone. Slowly, she raises the small, square window and cautiously ducks her head inside. She looks back with a smile of relief and Oscar gives her a small boost to help her through the window. Once she’s inside, she leans through the window, kisses him quickly, and then is gone without saying anything else. No more good nights, no more I love yous. Oscar likes how she knows they’ve already said all the words they need to say tonight.
As he walks away and heads in the direction of the brothel, he cups his hand around his pocket, the pocket he’d stuffed the rock into. On one hand it seems like a childish thing to do, scavenging for a souvenir. Hell, two months ago he would have howled with laughter over the idea of doing such a mushy, pussified thing because of a girl. That was a long time ago though. Everything is different now.
There’s music coming from the little house. It’s the kind of music with screeching lyrics about violent things. It’s Monty’s music. Oscar isn’t going to worry about running into the eldest Savage brother though. Chances are Monty is still balls deep inside that squirrel-faced snatch who’d followed him home. He’ll probably pass out at some point. With any luck he already has.