by Misty Walker
“Thea!” someone calls my name, and it snaps me out of my fog. Wen is sitting in front of me. “I’ve said your name like five times.”
“Sorry. Just thinking.” I go back to munching on my carrots.
“Hopefully you’re thinking about the wedding.” His tone is reprimanding, and it grates on my nerves.
“I have time.” This is what I say every time someone bothers me about wedding plans.
He slams his hands down on the table, causing me to jump. “You have four months. You’ve wasted two months already. How much longer are you going to wait?”
“Chill the fuck out, Wen. I don’t see you doing anything to help plan.” His moods are so hot and cold lately. I never know who I’ll be talking to.
“I’ll chill the fuck out when you start at least pretending to want this marriage.” His voice is loud enough everyone who was milling about is now staring.
I lean over the table and whisper, “I’ll start pretending to want this marriage when you turn into a decent fucking human being.” I don’t even sit back down before his hand is around my throat. He brings my face within inches of his.
“Have you ever taken a second to think maybe you’re the fuckin’ problem here, Thea?” Spittle hits my face. I clutch onto his hand, trying to pry it from my throat, but it’s too tight and I’m not getting enough air.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Kezia’s dad, Mr. Boswell, sets a hand on Wen’s shoulder. The contact snaps Wen out of it. He releases me and steps back.
“This is your fuckin’ fault.” He points an accusatory finger at me, kicks the wooden table, and storms off.
“You all right, kid?” Mr. Boswell asks me.
I’m still trying to catch my breath, my hands gently holding my throat, and tears blur my vision. I give him a shaky nod. He gives me a sympathetic smile and walks away. When he’s gone, Charity runs up to me, her tiny arms wrapping around my waist.
“I didn’t know what to do.” Her face is smooshed into my stomach, muffling her voice. It’s not that Wen’s behavior is all that unusual within our group. The men around here are treated like the kings of their castles and women are treated like, well, less than that. Occasionally, one of the daughters, or even a wife now and then, will do something that earns them a backhand, but not in my family. Dad has never laid a hand on any of us girls or Mom. Both of them are terrible at punishing us, and we have pulled some shit that probably was deserving of some punishment. Mom and Dad have always just found humor in our mistakes.
“It’s okay, Char. You did the right thing by not getting involved.” I pat her head soothingly.
I look around to see who else witnessed what just happened, and the rose-colored glasses I’ve been using get crushed to the ground. Everyone is going on like nothing happened. They peer at me through their periphery, but they all keep at what they’re doing. Chasing kids, hanging laundry, cooking food, working on engines. They were all doing everything but coming to my rescue. That’s when I see Mom. She’s in the trailer’s window behind the curtains. As soon as she knows I can see her, she disappears from view. It hurts worse than all the rest of this. Mom didn’t step in. She didn’t even try to comfort me afterward. A couple tears escape and I angrily wipe them away. I already look weak by being demeaned. I don’t need to cry.
I pry Char’s arms from around my waist and kneel down to her level. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Should I go kick his ass?” Her squeaky voice sounds as fierce as a mouse and her face is scrunched up in anger. She’s so fucking cute, but I force away the smile threatening to break free and put on a matching stern face.
“That’s nice of you to offer, but us Vanslow girls, we fight our own battles, right?” We both nod in agreement. “Okay, so you go run and play. I’ll see you at dinner.”
She assesses me one more time. I see her internal battle, so I stand up and give her a playful swat on the ass. She giggles and runs away.
Stepping into the trailer, I close my eyes, count to ten, and then take a few calming breaths, preparing for this confrontation. I find Mom cleaning the small kitchen. It rarely gets used, so it’s never dirty.
“Mom.” My voice is small and hesitant. I fucking hate it. This isn’t me.
“Oh, Thea. Didn’t hear you come in.” Lies.
“Can we talk?” I sit on the couch, my bare thighs sticking to the plastic.
“Sure. What’s up?” Mom sits next to me. Her tone is aloof, and her eyes dance around. Everywhere but at me.
“I know you saw. You were looking through the window.” I pull my hair in between my fingers, twisting and twirling. I’ve done this since I was a child. The repetition soothes me.
“Saw what?” She plays dumb.
“Don’t be daft. You saw. You saw what Wen did, and you did nothing about it!” My voice gets louder, almost hysterical.
“All I saw was my bratty ass daughter and her husband reminding her who was in charge.” When she finally looks at me, her face is screwed up in a glower and it pisses me off.
“For one, he’s not my husband—” I start.
“Yet,” Mom interrupts, and I roll my eyes.
“Second, he has no right to put his hands on me like that.” Each word comes out sharp and pointed. “Third, you should’ve tried to stop him. You’re my mother!”
“Oh, Thea, you have so much to learn.” She shakes her head and looks at the ceiling. “It’s not my place to butt in on your fuckin’ business with your future husband. Once he proposed, you became his. His to do with as he pleases. I know you know this.”
“You want me to learn how to take abuse from my husband?” I ask incredulously.
“No, Thea. I want you to learn how to act right. How to know your place. How to be a good wife. Instead, you push and push the poor boy. It’s not right.” She crosses her legs and meets my eyes.
“You’re kidding, right? Dad would never lay a hand on you. You don’t know what it feels like to be treated that way!” I shout. Mom places a hand on my knee and she turns somber.
“Yes, Thea. He did. When we were first married, I was just like you. Headstrong and crazy. Where do you think you got it from?” She audibly blows out a breath. “There was an adjustment period. There always is for married couples, but for our people, it’s particularly difficult. Most of the time, the girls are moving to a new area, a new family, a new everything. My marriage to your father was arranged, just like yours. Only I had to move from the East Coast to the West Coast. I was angry and sad. I acted out. It only took a few times before I realized my place. I had two choices. I could keep pissing off my husband and keep getting smacked around, or I could accept my life, start acting right, and try to be happy. I chose the latter and everything changed. I fell in love with your father. I was gifted you beautiful kids.” She pats me on my hand twice. “Now it’s your turn to make a choice.” She stands up and walks out of the trailer, leaving me shocked and confused.
“You’ve got to get back out there, baby boy.” Mark crosses his legs and flicks a stray hair off his brow.
“Did you break into my office just to lecture me?” I briefly look away from the spreadsheet I’m working on.
“I wouldn’t call it ‘breaking in’ per se. More like bribing Monica to let me in despite your objections.” He grabs my business card holder, reads my card, and then sets it down. Crooked. I reach over and straighten it. Putting it back where it was before.
“Whatever you did to get in here, I’m sure you can see yourself out.” I wave to the door.
“I think you need to come out with me tonight.” Mark ignores my request.
“That’s actually the last thing I need to do. After last time, I’ve gone sober. No more alcohol for me, ever.” Imagining the blue drink still turns my stomach.
“How will you meet someone new?” He holds his arms out in a questioning manner.
“That’s easy.” I save the spreadsheet and close my laptop. “I’m not. I’ll download Tinder and stick to hookups when I
need to like every other single man out there.” I’m not there yet, because Thea still haunts my mind. I don’t tell Mark that. He doesn’t need more ammunition. “Don’t you think if you spent more time on your own love life and less on mine, you might find someone of your own?”
“Me?” He clutches his chest with both hands and his eyebrows shoot up. “I’m already in a relationship.”
“Oh, yeah?” News to me, since he never talks about anyone.
“Yep, I’m in a serious relationship with Chris O’Donnell. He’s daddy as fuck.” Mark fans himself.
“The actor?” I quirk an eyebrow.
“He just doesn’t know it yet. One day I’ll meet him and it’ll be instalove. Until then, I have Ben and Jerry.” He stands up and buttons his jacket. It’s silky and fuchsia.
“Is he even gay?” I pack up my briefcase and look around to make sure everything is as it should be.
“What? I can’t hear you,” Mark says as he walks out the door, shutting it before I can question him further. I chuckle and flip the lights out, ready to head home for the day.
It’s been a few weeks since Thea said goodbye and I’m finally coming out of the fog she left me in. Mark has been harassing me daily, and while he’s annoying, it’s also nice of him to check in on me.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m home. I pause in the doorway. Something’s off. A few somethings, actually. There’s a pair of beat-up leather sandals on the shoe rack, an empty glass on my kitchen island, and a small human-sized mass curled up on my couch, soft snores filling the room. I smile and shake my head. Just can’t shake this girl. One of these days, I’ll chain her to my bed and not let her pull any more disappearing acts. Preferably before she gets married.
I toe off my shoes, remove my suit coat, and loosen my tie before heading to the sleeping figure. I take a seat on the coffee table in front of her. She’s lying on her stomach, one arm and one leg hanging off the side of the couch. Her long, flowy skirt has risen to mid-thigh on a leg that’s draped over the edge and I have to fight the urge to drag a hand up her long, toned leg.
I scan a path up her body. I stop at where her cropped tank top exposes her bare back, paying attention to the two dimples above her ass I want to lick. Hair covers her shoulders and part of her face. I gently brush it to the side so I can see her face clearly. Her long lashes kiss the top of her cheeks and her full lips are slightly parted. She’s stunning.
“Creeper.” Her voice is more hoarse than usual, heavy with sleep.
“Only for you.” I let out a small smile. Thea sits up and stretches her arms out, her face scrunching up. “Want to tell me how you got into my house?”
“You’re an amateur. Sliding doors are notoriously easy to unlock from the outside,” she explains. No shame in sight. I look to my back door and then back at Thea.
“I’ll have to look into that.”
“You don’t want me to break in?” She peers up at me through those long lashes coyly.
“I don’t want anyone to break in. If you want to be in my house, I’ll give the code to the front door,” I say honestly, and she blushes. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“I had a terrible night last night, and I needed to get away.” She gathers her hair in one hand and brings it over her shoulder, making it easier for her to play with the long strands. Something dark catches my eye. Her skin is bruised around the base of her neck. I grasp her hand and pull it from her hair. I gather the long strands and lift them up, revealing a similar bruise on the other side.
“What the fuck is this?” She shies away from my touch and pulls her hair from my clutch. I regret my tone instantly. “I just mean, what happened?” I ask gently this time.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. I handled it.” Her spine straightens and her face hardens.
“I don’t care you’re here, Thea. I’m just worried. You can’t break into my house with bruises around your neck and expect me to not ask questions.” I stand up and put some distance between us so my anger doesn’t scare her further.
“I can go. It’s okay. I was just up all night and I was so tired.” She stands up too, picks up her purse from the chair, and throws it over her shoulder.
“No. Don’t go.” I approach her cautiously. I’ve never seen her so skittish. “Just sit down. Let’s talk about it.” I pull her purse from her shoulder and down her arm before setting it back onto the chair. Her eyes meet mine and what I see breaks my usually unemotional heart. She’s crying.
She allows me to walk her back to the couch. I sit before tugging her to sit across my lap. My arms wrap around her waist tightly. Her head rests on my shoulder and she sniffles.
I give her a minute before I whisper into her ear, “What’s wrong, Trouble?”
“I fucked everything up.” She sounds so defeated and weary.
“How’d you do that?” I rub up and down her thigh to soothe her. She’s always so fierce, seeing her like this puts me on edge. If she weren’t on my lap, I would be cleaning. Starting with the dirty glass on the counter.
“Um, I got mouthy with Wen. I’ve gotten mouthy with Wen a lot lately. I think he finally had enough yesterday. He… well, he choked me.”
I pull her from my shoulder by her arms and hold her out, needing to look her in the eyes.
“He did what?” My severe tone causes tears to pour from her eyes.
“I just misunderstood how things are,” she sobs out cryptically.
“What things? I don’t understand.” Anger is bubbling up from within me, but I try to tamp it down. Thea’s upset enough without me adding to it.
“In my mind, my dad was a gentle giant. I mean, he sometimes gets drunk and into fights, but with us, he’s never. He would never.” She shakes her head.
“Wait, we were talking about Wen.” I can’t keep up.
“After Wen did… what he did, I went to my mom. I thought she would cancel the wedding. I thought she would be upset, but it turns out my dad was the same way at first. I guess it’s their way to put their women in their place. I just didn’t know. I was so stupid.” She nuzzles her face into my neck and drapes her arms around my shoulders.
“You’re not stupid. It’s abuse, Thea. I know you know it is, it’s why you’re so upset.”
“I don’t know. I’m so disappointed in my dad, in my mom, in fuckin’ Wen. I’m so confused, Law.” Sobs wrack through her body, and I let her get it all out while I rub her back. After a few minutes, her shuddering stops and she sits up. Her eyes are red and swollen, her cheeks damp with tears. I cup her face in my hands and wipe them away with my thumbs. “That’s not all.” She swallows hard.
“What else?” I ask through gritted teeth. The anger I had forced down comes roiling back up. I swear I’ll kill the fucker.
“Later, Wen said he wanted to apologize, but I was just so mad. I couldn’t even look at him. I started to walk away, but he grabbed my arm. I couldn’t hold myself back. I kicked him in the balls and told him I wouldn’t marry him.” This makes me smile, but Thea jumps from my lap and starts pacing.
“That was good, love. I’m proud of you.” I try to reassure her.
“No, it wasn’t good, because he and his dad told me if I was backing out of the wedding, I had to leave the group.” Her hand shoots to her hair, and she twirls the strands feverishly. “My parents… they did nothing. They just let me leave.”
I stand up and walk to her. I pull her hand from her hair, wrap her arms around my waist, and cup her face in my hands so she’s forced to look me in the eyes.
“It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out.” I don’t understand how it will be okay, but I don’t tell her that. Her family is her entire world and unless she’s allowed back, she’ll be crushed. Destroyed. “Let’s have some dinner. You can stay here tonight and tomorrow we can work on it. Things will look better after you get some sleep.” I know it’s all a lie, but she could use a reprieve from all the upset.
“Are you sure?” She trembles slightly. I’d do any
thing to bring back her spark. She may be trouble, but she’s my trouble. How her family could condemn her is beyond me, but now that they have, I will make damn sure she has no reason to leave me again.
“Yeah, Trouble. I’m sure.” My forehead meets hers and I look into her unusual orbs. We share a breath, then two. I trail the backs of my fingers down her arm, goose bumps forming under my touch. Her hand comes up to my cheek, and she brings my mouth down to hers. Tentatively, she kisses me gently and chastely. I allow her to explore at her own pace, letting her have control. Her pillowy lips feel so good against mine. When her tongue peeks out and sweeps over my lower lip, I open for her and she slides into my mouth, cautiously probing.
It doesn’t take long for my need to overwhelm me. I take control of the kiss, picking up the pace. Our breaths are shared, our hands are all over, and the urge to make this girl mine is overwhelming. I crouch to grab the bottom of her long skirt, dragging it up her legs. I stop at the back of her thighs and hoist her up. Her legs lock around my waist and I back her against the wall and pin her there with my hips, her heat on mine.
We devour each other, teeth and tongues, sloppy and sexy. She grinds her sex into me and the friction makes me moan against her mouth. I grab her hands and pin them above her head with one hand while the other goes to her breast. Over her tank at first, but when I don’t feel a bra, I can’t help but pull her tank up. I pull away so I can inspect the perfect tits that have driven me crazy for so long. Barely a handful, but absolutely perfect. I lower my head and take one dark nipple into my mouth, sucking hard.
“Jesus Christ, Law,” she breathes out. I flick her nipple with my tongue before releasing her, giving her peeked tip a chaste kiss before dragging my tongue up her chest and neck. She tastes spicy and sweet and completely intoxicating. I suck her earlobe into my mouth and drag my teeth down until it pops free.
