by Cassia Leo
The voices of Matt and Eli’s father filtered out from the den. They were talking about selling some of the farm, just as Matt had wanted. Cathy had mentioned it to Eli only yesterday. His father was apparently eager to buy up some of the land.
“I asked my dad if I could tag along,” said Eli. He looked around. “So, this is your house?”
She felt embarrassed. She’d never seen his house, but she’d seen his clothes and his car, and she knew he had money. All her family had was the farm. “You want to see my room?”
“Sure.”
She led him there. It was messy, and she found herself shoving discarded clothes in her closet to make room for him to walk across the floor. She threw the covers up over her bed. She pointed. “You can sit.”
He settled on the bed, looking around, taking in her Spin Doctors poster and the photos stuck to her mirror. There was one of Heath kissing her. She wanted to take it down, but she couldn’t without calling attention to it.
She sat down next to him.
“Hey,” he said. “I got you something.” He pulled a small black box out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“Why?” she said, feeling flustered.
“Just because,” he said. “I wanted to.”
She opened the box. Snug inside it were a pair of earrings, glittering with jewels.
“Isabella said you’d like these,” he said. “She said you were commenting on a pair of hers that were sort of like them.”
She gaped at them. “They’re beautiful.” Then she closed the box. “But I can’t take them. You can’t give me something this expensive.”
“Why not?” he said. “I want to. I want to give you all kinds of things, expensive or not. I want to give you whatever you want.”
She opened the box again. She touched one of the earrings.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “We haven’t been alone since…”
Since she kissed him. She set down the box of earrings and exchanged it for her pillow, which she squeezed. “Look, maybe last time I was feeling a little crazy, and maybe—”
He caught her under her chin. “Cathy, don’t. Don’t try to minimize what happened. You always act like nothing means anything.”
She looked into his eyes. They were beautiful. He was beautiful. He was like a Ken doll.
His lips came for hers.
She closed her eyes.
She felt the brush of his mouth against hers.
And then she pulled away. “We can’t.” Heath! She had to remember Heath. She got up. “I don’t think we should be up here. My brother would get mad. He doesn’t want me to have boys in my room.”
Eli stood up too. “You make me crazy.”
“Stop it,” she said.
“I dream about you, you know that? I have these dreams where you’re ahead of me, and you’re running. You’re wearing this white dress. It’s all flowy. And you’re laughing. It’s like music, the way you’re laughing. And I’m running after you, running and running. But before I can catch you, I always wake up.”
She rubbed her neck. “Dreams are weird, right?”
“Cathy, I never wanted anyone the way I want you. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.”
“Stop it.” She threw open the door. He had to stop saying things like that to her. Things that made her want him back. Things that made her feel cherished and special and beautiful.
She started down the stairs, fleeing him.
She heard him behind her. “Cathy, wait.”
And Heath was standing at the bottom of the steps.
She stopped short.
Heath looked over her, up at Eli. “What’s going on, Cathy?”
“Does Matt know you’re in the house?” she said. “He’s going to be pissed.”
“Was he in your room?” said Heath, still staring at Eli.
Eli held his hands up in surrender. He started to ease past Cathy. “Look, I’m not trying to get in the middle of anything here. I just think that Cathy should decide what she wants to do. That’s all.”
Heath laughed, a harsh, caustic sound. “You don’t want to get in the middle of things? Are you for real?”
“Heath—” said Cathy.
“Shut up, Cathy,” said Heath. He moved closer to Eli.
Eli backed up.
Cathy took Heath’s arm, trying to pull him back.
He shook her off. He took another step towards Eli.
Eli tried to back up but ran into a step. He lost his footing and fell backwards.
Heath smirked.
Eli scrambled to his feet, his face white.
But Heath had already turned his back on Eli, apparently deciding he wasn’t worth his time. “I didn’t come up here for this. I want to talk to Matt.”
“Talk to him?” said Cathy. “That’s a really bad idea. He’ll throw you back in the barn.”
“Is it true?” said Heath. “Is he trying to sell the farm?”
“Not all of it.”
Heath shook his head. “He has no right to do that.”
Cathy bit her lip.
“Where is he?” said Heath.
“Heath, don’t,” said Cathy. “You shouldn’t even be in the house.”
But at that moment, Matt and Mr. Linton came out of the den.
“I’ll be in touch,” said Mr. Linton. “I think we can do some business.”
“Great,” said Matt, all smiles.
“Come on, Eli,” said Mr. Linton. He nodded at Cathy and gestured for his son to follow him.
Eli looked at Heath, then at Cathy, then at his shoes. “See you tomorrow, Cathy.”
“Oh, he’s going to pick you up again, is he?” Heath shook his head.
Matt seemed to notice him for the first time. His face got red.
But he waited until the Lintons were gone before turning to Heath. “What do you think you’re doing up here? I let you back in that tenant house and now you think you can come in here anytime you want? Because you can’t. You’re nothing but trash, and I don’t want trash in my house.”
Heath didn’t seem affected by the insults. “You can’t sell the farm.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“I put more into this farm than you ever did,” said Heath. “Who do you think was keeping it afloat? Floyd?”
“Afloat? That’s a funny way to put it,” said Matt. “Because this farm is sinking in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Fran appeared at the top of the steps. “Hey, sugar, if y’all are gonna argue, can you do it in the kitchen? I just got this baby down, and I don’t want you waking him up.”
“You hear that?” said Matt. “Get out of my house.”
Heath stalked past him, down the hall and into the kitchen.
Fists clenched, Matt followed him.
Cathy ran after the two of them. This was bad. There was nothing good about this at all.
Heath paced in front of the refrigerator. “If you hate the farm so much, then why stay?”
“I don’t hate the farm,” said Matt. “I hate the debt I’m in. I’m not selling the whole thing. Just fifty acres. Maybe eighty.”
“Fifty acres?” Heath dragged a hand over his face. “You’re killing us. We need the land. How else are we going to grow enough food to make money at the markets?”
“We’re not,” said Matt. “If I sell this land, I can pay off the mortgage. I can pay off my school loans. I can put money aside for Cathy’s college. And then if we can keep the farm turning a profit, then maybe we can crawl up out of this hole that Dad dug us into.”
It actually sounded reasonable to Cathy.
But Heath was still pacing.
“I don’t know why I’m explaining myself to you,” said Matt. “You’re nothing but some gypsy bastard that my father felt sorry for. I don’t owe you shit.”
Heath stopped moving. He faced Matt. “Why you got to make it about that? You always got to put me in my place. You think if you do it enough, you’ll co
nvince me I’m worthless?”
“You are worthless. You’re a sack of shit. I’d do anything to get rid of you.”
“Right,” said Heath. “Because you’d rather be taking care of some ugly bitch who’s spread her legs for half the town and raising some kid that’s not even yours. I’m a burden, but that cow and her spawn deserve play rooms.”
“Shut up about Fran,” said Matt. He picked up an empty beer bottle from the counter.
“Fran?” said Heath. “You said my mother was a whore. What do you think she is? You’re just like your old man, aren’t you, Matt?”
And then Matt smashed the beer bottle onto the counter.
Shards sprayed everywhere.
Matt held the bottle by its neck, pointing the jagged end at Heath. “I’m going to tell you one more time. Get out of my fucking house.”
“It shouldn’t even be your house,” said Heath.
Matt leaped across the kitchen, slashing with the broken bottle.
There was blood suddenly.
Blood splattering.
Heath screamed.
Matt yelled.
Cathy jumped at both of them, trying to stop it.
But she couldn’t tell who was who or what was going on. She was yelling both their names, screaming herself hoarse, pulling on Matt, trying to get him away from Heath.
And then Matt shook her off.
He dropped the bottle. He was shaking.
Heath lay on the linoleum. He wasn’t moving. There was blood everywhere.
“Fuck,” said Matt.
Heath drew in a noisy breath.
“Fuck,” said Matt. He walked out of the kitchen.
Cathy heard the door slam. The engine of a car starting.
*
Heath watched as Cathy applied the last of the bandages to his wounds. Most of them were on his arms and hands. He’d thrown them up as protection when Matt came at him. But a few of them were on his chest and torso. Even a tiny one on his chin. Luckily, none of them were that deep.
He’d been afraid. He’d felt like he was swimming in his own blood. He’d worried that Matt had cut a major artery or something. That he was bleeding to death.
But he was okay.
Cathy had cried over him while she cleaned him up.
Now he drew her into his arms, holding her gingerly so as not to hurt himself too much.
She kissed his forehead. The tip of his nose. His lips.
Then she stood up and led him down the hallway from the upstairs bathroom to her room. She shut the door. She kissed him again.
Her lips and tongue were sweet, even though he was in pain. He wanted to kiss her forever.
She pulled her shirt over her head.
He was surprised. “Matt—”
“He won’t be home until later,” she said. “And he’ll be drunk. He won’t know you’re here.”
She reached behind and unsnapped her bra, letting it fall away.
And there they were again. Her breasts. He let out a little sigh, and he covered one of them with his hand.
She shut her eyes.
He kissed her.
She tugged him down onto the bed. She unbuttoned his pants.
“I didn’t… I mean, I got them, but I don’t have them here.” He swallowed. “The condoms, I mean.”
She got up and went to her dresser. “I got some.” And she tossed them on the bed. “I just thought maybe you wouldn’t, and I didn’t want…”
He picked up the small, square package. Three lubricated condoms, it said.
She took it away from him. She put it on her bedside table. “Touch me,” she said. “Touch me like you did before.”
He did his best. He put his mouth on her breasts. He kissed her nipples. He ran his fingers over the swell over her stomach, traced her rib cage. She was soft everywhere. She was small. He felt hulking next to her tiny form, like he might smother her, hurt her on accident. So he was as gentle as he could be.
But she didn’t make as much noise as last time.
Heath guessed she was afraid Fran would hear.
He missed the noises.
Cathy touched his chest, careful to avoid the places where he’d been cut. Her fingers were hesitant. He liked them. They were feather soft, barely brushing him, making his skin contract in goose bumps.
She moved her hand lower, raking her hand through the hair on his stomach, making him suck in breath, and then her hands were at his zipper.
He licked his lips. He felt nervous. He’d never been naked with anyone. This was Cathy. If there was anyone he trusted, it was her. But it was scary.
She unzipped him.
Then there was awkward fumbling, both of them trying to get off his pants.
She collided with his bandages more than once, making him flinch back, making her apologize.
And somewhere in the middle of it, he decided that she shouldn’t be wearing pants either, but he was clumsier at getting hers off.
So it seemed like they thrashed around on the bed, accidentally bumping into each other for a very long time. And when they were finally both in their underwear, lying back down in each other’s arms, he was half afraid that he’d completely lost his hard on, because he hadn’t even been thinking about sex, not really. It had been such an ordeal to get their pants off.
But he pressed himself against her, and it was there. And everything was glorious, because there was nothing between him and her skin except the thin cotton of his boxers.
He gasped. He pulled her close and kissed her hard.
And that hurt, because he was covered in wounds. He cringed.
She caressed his face, stroking his stubble. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.
“Of me?”
“Of…” She looked tiny and vulnerable. Her eyes were so wide.
He wanted to protect her more than anything. He felt like he had to. By taking off her clothes in front of him, she’d offered herself up to him for safety, and he couldn’t let anything bad happen to her.
“I’m afraid it’s going to hurt,” she said.
Did that happen to girls? Maybe he’d heard that. Goddamn it, why didn’t he know anything about this?
He kissed her forehead. “I’ll stop. If it hurts, I’ll stop.”
“No.”
“No?” Why would she say that? He couldn’t stand the thought of hurting her.
“Because if you stop, then it’ll just hurt the next time. I think it has to hurt the first time. I think you should…”
Heath grimaced. This whole thing was starting to seem less appealing. He was going to hurt her? She was going to suffer through it while he did it?
“And we should put something down in case I bleed,” she said.
Blood? She was going to bleed? He rubbed his forehead. “You know, you don’t have to do this for me. I’m not…” He stared at the ceiling. “We don’t have to do it at all.”
“I want to,” she said. She got up and yanked a towel off of a hook on the door. She laid it down on the bed.
He moved out of the way to let her. “Really? Because I’m not sure if I do.”
What he was enjoying was watching her bare breasts bounce around as she moved. That was… mesmerizing.
She lay back down on the towel and put her head on his shoulder. “Gotta have a first time sometime. Might as well get it over with.”
He shifted, propping himself up so that he was looking down at her. “I don’t know if I want you to feel like that.” Getting it over with didn’t sound like she found the thought of it appealing.
She put her hand on his crotch.
His eyes slammed shut. He let out a little noise of surprise.
She peeled his boxers down, and his cock popped out, pointing straight at her.
They both stared at it.
“Cathy…”
But she wrapped her hand around him.
He groaned.
She guided his hand under her underwear, pushing him between her legs. “Feel,�
�� she whispered. “I want it.”
His fingers slid against her. She was slippery down there. Wet.
And her hand moved on his cock, stroking him.
“Okay,” he managed. “I’m totally cool with doing it.”
She giggled.
He kissed her again, her mouth eager under his. He tugged at her panties, and they were both naked, their bodies close, her skin warm against him.
It was nice.
Really nice.
She gave him one of the condoms.
His fingers shook when he tore open the wrapper, and it took him a couple of times to get it go on right. He tried it backwards once, but then he figured it out. The lubrication got on his fingers. It felt waxy.
He knelt between her legs.
He kissed her again. Both her nipples. Her neck.
Then he looked at her.
She bit her lip. She still looked afraid.
“I don’t know,” he breathed.
She grabbed his cock. She guided him into her. “Do it.” She closed her eyes.
And so he did. He pushed into her body slowly.
And it was… it was absolutely the most fucking fantastic thing he’d ever felt in his entire life. She was soft and welcoming and snug around him. Shivers went through his body. He moaned.
And then he remembered that he was possibly hurting her.
His eyes snapped open.
She let out a slow breath. “It’s not that bad.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Please don’t make me stop, he thought, hating himself for it, but knowing stopping would nearly kill him. Already, he was itching to thrust. His cock was pulsing at him. He wanted to move in her body.
“Don’t stop,” she said.
He made his first shallow thrust. It was earth shatteringly good.
She made a sound, strangled, high pitched.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“Uh huh,” she murmured.
He moved again. He felt her hips move with him, cradling him. They were connected. He was in her.
He gazed into her eyes, and she looked back.
“You’re mine, Heath Galloway,” she said. “Say it.”
“I’m yours,” he gasped. “I’m yours.”
*
Cathy gazed down at Heath’s sleeping face. He looked so peaceful and young, curled up next to her, one hand possessively on one of her breasts. She tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear.
