Willa smiles at me through her tears, both of us pretending we’re not trying our hardest to listen in on Donny and Corbin’s whispered conversation. It takes her a few seconds to get the courage, but she eventually finds her way to me, pecking me on the lips.
Ordinarily when we greet each other, Donny keeps Bren and the twins occupied, and we do everything in private. Which is another reason I suspect Willa has had to be Donny’s shoulder to cry on all afternoon, and Donny can be downright overemotional at times.
“You doing okay?” I whisper to Willa, and she just offers me a wane smile in return.
“I’m off,” Corbin announces, striding through the house to the front door.
Sobbing, Donny walks into the living room and falls into his recliner.
Willa, Brennan, and I share a look. “What do we do?”
“So much for walking down memory lane,” Bren mutters sarcastically, reaching for whichever twin he can tug free of my arms. “I’ll go in their room with them and–”
“Hide?” Willa smirks, but it’s pale compared to her usual spunk. “I don’t blame ya.”
Hayden is easy to dislodge and wake up. He leans against his big brother’s thigh, scrubbing at his sleepy eyes with pudgy fists. Then Bren reaches for Hayley, and all hell breaks loose.
“Daddy! No!” Hayley’s high-pitched shriek has us all wincing. “I want my daddy! No!” She struggles with me as I try to set her on her feet. “Daddy, no.”
“Hayley, honey…” I realize I’m trying to reason with a toddler. “Uncle Donny needs Daddy right now. Your brother will read you a story.”
“Daddy!” Hayley’s still shouting, causing such a distraction we don’t hear the front door opening.
“Bren!” Donny is on his feet, charging into the kitchen before I even know what’s happening. Hayley is still screaming bloody murder, not wanting to be out of my arms. “Get the twins in their room and lock the door. Don’t open it for nothing. If someone tries to get in, go out the window and get your asses out of here.”
Heart pounding out of my chest, the tension in the air is suffocating. I look up to assess the situation, and my eyes connect with an enraged Sean. Hayley is out of my arms and thrust in Brennan’s in an instant, with him tearing down the hallway before I can even blink.
I reach for my cellphone and lob it, and it’s hitting my son in the back as I’m shouting, “Call 9-1-1.” I pray the phone didn’t break when it landed on the carpeting. Bren reaches down to pick it up just as Donny bellows in the silence, “Call Corbin back here. Now!”
Sean is standing taller than ever, with his left fist tightening and loosening in time with his molars grinding together. I have no idea what’s going on, but I know I’m about to find out. Judging by Willa and Donny’s petrified reactions, I might not survive to learn the truth.
I was so distracted by Sean’s left fist, I didn’t pay attention to his right. The click of a hammer being pulled back is deafening. We all freeze, turning immobile with terror. “I warned you,” Sean says low and slow to Donny, but his eyes are trained on me, as is the revolver in his hand. “I warned you, didn’t I?”
“Sean,” Donny’s voice is pleading, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the 357 Magnum to look at him. Turning cross-eyed, I stare down the barrel of the gun. One slip of a fingertip and my brains will be splattered all over the kitchen cabinets. “This is all my fault.”
“I know it is,” Sean’s voice rolls over me. “Which is why your brother will pay the price. I warned you, but you didn’t listen.”
“I’ve done everything you asked of me.” Donny doesn’t move but his voice warbles. “It doesn’t matter that the twins aren’t my kids; the law says they are.”
“It matters. Now it’s three to zero in Royce’s favor.” Sean’s fingertip twitches and I piss my pants. “And we both know Royce will never do what I say.”
Heart beating in my throat, blood surging in my veins, hot humiliation streams down my thigh, proving I still breathe. No amount of willpower could stop it. An involuntary reaction to facing Death. The trigger didn’t pull, but my body doesn’t realize that. Urine soaking into my jeans, the steam of it wafting up to rankle my nose, I’m rendered powerless to protect my family.
“It was a godsend when I thought you had twins, you fucking moron, and I don’t mean so for me.” Sean is still running off at the mouth, causing him to be careless– fingertip twitching as he turns more and more enraged with every word he speaks.
The barrel of the gun is four feet from my forehead, not far enough to miss but close enough to blow my brains out the back of my skull. There is nothing I can do but turn into a statue and pray to God as piss streams down my leg.
“Your two kids meant I didn’t have to murder an innocent kid. Now that there’s three of them, Royce is the liability. So I just went from minding my own business to being a serial murderer because you couldn’t stick your dick in your own wife.”
My hand is nudged. Instead of flinching in reaction, I freeze in shock. My fingertips are pried apart, and then smooth wood is settled into my palm. I recognize the shape immediately– my granddaddy’s truncheon, which I gave to Willa for protection against Sean.
The weapon is six inches long, made of hardwood with a leather wrist strap. Instead of skinny and shaped like a baton, my granddaddy carved it to be bulbous on the end. A blunt-force weapon meant to stun and incapacitate, leaving the person unconscious so you can get away to safety.
As sweet as it feels in my palm, it’s doing me no good. If I breathe too deeply I’m dead. There is no way I can swing the truncheon before the trigger pulls.
“You’re such a spineless coward.” Sean sneers at Donny, too incensed to notice Willa arming herself with my baseball bat. I close my eyes, always knowing that woman would be the death of me.
“Do you think I want to be here? Do you?” Sean has one eye trained on Willa now, with the other on Donny. He doesn’t have to look at me because his gun is doing a mighty fine job of keeping me in his line of sight. “I’ve had to stay in this bum-fuck town for the past five years, doing a job I can’t stand, having to deal with your sniveling ass nonstop. I’d shoot you all if it didn’t mean I’d be executed the second I did so.”
My mind spins, trying to find a reason why Sean is doing any of this and drawing a complete blank thanks to the gun trained on my forehead. I grip the truncheon tighter, using it to anchor me.
“This is what we’re going to do, boys and hillbilly skank,” Sean says sweetly in a phony voice. “We’re going to put our weapons down, or I’m going to shoot Royce in the forehead. Keep in mind, I never miss.”
Fingers relaxing, a solid thud reverberates near my foot, and it’s echoed a split-second later with the louder sound of a baseball bat hitting the floor.
The sickening sound of defeat.
Whether Sean shoots me because we didn’t drop our weapons, or because of some other infraction he comes up with, he’s going to shoot me before the night ends, and I’m terrified of what comes before the end.
Just as long as my children survive, I don’t care what happens to me, and that includes Willa and Donny.
Only the children matter.
This is the first time in my life I regret being on Kennedy land. Even if Brennan gets through to 9-1-1, it will take them time to dispatch a car, and then at least fifteen minutes to get from Rusty Knob proper.
There is a reason crime happens in the hollers instead of in town, and that is the exact reason my late father-in-law demanded Annie and any of our children were to live in town.
We’re dead, and I won’t even get the chance to hear the answer as to why.
“Good,” Sean says patronizingly. “So glad two of you have the comprehension skills of a toddler. At this point I can’t figure out how Donny survives everyday life.”
“What do you want from me?” I growl, teeth not even moving as I speak in fear any movement on my part will give Sean a twitchy trigger finger.
&nb
sp; “We’ll all survive another day, going on our merry way until I find a way to fix this horrendous fuckup of Donny’s. So we’re going to learn our lessons tonight. Eh? I think we should teach your baby brother what it’s like to be in your shoes.”
“No!” Donny gasps, lunging forward.
It only takes a split-second for my life to flash through my eyes. Donny jumps forward to stop Sean, who has the presence of mind to jerk his finger off the trigger. If he hadn’t, I would have been shot by accident– my brother’s fault.
With a sharp crack of a backhand, “Ah… such a fucking idiot,” Sean is snarling at Donny. My brother’s face whips to the side, so far backward that his cheek is meeting his shoulder. “I don’t plan on killing anyone tonight if I don’t have to, so don’t make me shoot your brother by accident.”
“Don’t,” Donny pleads, getting onto his knees before Sean. Helpless, my brother leans his chest against the floor at Sean’s feet, abasing himself. I choke on vomit, recognizing what this position means for my brother. “I’ll do anything you ask, just let everyone else go.”
“I’ve already broken this toy.” Sean releases a sadistic laugh while kicking my brother directly in the face with a steel-toed boot. Blood arcs before the popping sound of broken cartilage reaches my ears.
Powerless to react, all I can do is stand frozen and watch my brother groan in misery, rolling around on the floor between me and the man who is holding me at gunpoint, my piss seeping into my brother’s jeans. Blood pours out of Donny’s broken nose, trailing down his neck to be absorbed by his t-shirt.
Besides actually cutting my balls off, I don’t think there is a more emasculating thing you could do to a man. Isolated, locked in a house in the woods filled with my brother, my children, and my woman, and all I can do is stand and watch while soaked in my own piss.
Fists clenched at my sides, tears stinging my eyes, teeth gritted against the scream building in my throat, I take it like a man.
Muzzle grazing my forehead, the cool touch of metal branding me for life, Sean whispers in a menacing voice laced with rage. “Get on your knees and pray.”
Slowly lowering myself to the floor, Willa senses Donny will be in my way– she yanks my brother a few feet toward the living room. The muzzle follows me down, never losing contact with my forehead. Bowing, pressing closer to the gun, I close my eyes and begin to pray to God.
“That’s not what I meant, toy.” Sean’s sadistic laughter is thick with evil intent, sliding over my skin and taking root in the pit of my stomach. Guts twisting, bile rises in my throat when it clicks into place that there are much worse ways to ruin a man than pointing a loaded weapon at his forehead.
Sean didn’t break my brother by beating and lashing him or threatening my life.
This is a threat all women have to live with on a daily basis, and it gives me new appreciation of their strength and will to survive. With a resigned sigh, I submit to my fate, knowing the quicker I get this over with, the faster I will die. Hope upon hope, I hope my prayers will be answered, that Sean will only have time to fire off one shot when the cops arrive, leaving my brother, his wife, and my children safe from harm.
Clenching my eyes tight, the sound of Sean lowering his zipper terrifies me to the point I almost faint. Light-headed because my breath seized in my lungs, I weave back and forth on my knees.
There is no comparison between Sean’s dick and a loaded gun. I’d rather have the 357 Magnum shoved in my mouth and the trigger pulled than to submit to this degradation.
Laughing tauntingly, Sean is too distracted with the prospect of his own pleasure to keep an eye on Willa and Donny.
“I’m sorry, brother,” Donny cries out as I peer up to look at him in wonder, realizing too late I’m his intended target, not the man preparing to violate me. The butt of my baseball bat flashes before my eyes. The sharp crack of it making contact is the last thing I feel as everything fades to black.
I suspend in the in-between state of consciousness and death, sights and sounds flashing at random, warping into madness.
“Donny! Stop hitting him,” Willa screams so sharply it causes my eardrums to ache. “You’re killing him. R-O-Y-C-E!!!”
My body is rocking as if I’m a capsized boat being beaten against the rocky shoreline. I’m wrenched forward, my clothing torn from my back, face-first into the tile floor. The scent of my own piss rankling my nostrils.
A grunt is torn from my throat– the pain excruciating and indescribable as I’m torn in two. Then the poundings begin anew. Sharp thwacks to my skull, causing strobes of light to eclipse my vision.
“Stop it,” Donny bellows back. “He can’t regain consciousness. Do you want him to remember this for the rest of his life?”
Roughly panting, voice raspy, “Knock your shit off, or I pull the trigger,” Sean warns, metal branding the back of my neck. “Royce takes the punishment, you learn the lesson. I don’t care if you beat each other to death in the process. I either do this or my boss executes me, then he’ll come after everyone in this shitty fucking town. So have at it.”
The rocking renews, tearing a death knell from my chest, then the pounding returns, causing me to see bursts of stars.
“Donny!” Willa screams shrilly, yanking me back from the darkness. “Stop it! Hit Sean instead!”
“You do get that Sean’s finger is on the trigger of the gun pressing against the base of Royce’s skull? Don’t you think hitting Sean would make that finger pull?” Donny’s voice cuts off the moment Willa gasps in pain. “God, why won’t either one of you pass the fuck out?” My brother’s voice warps, twisting with agony. “I haven’t slept in years without waking to nightmares. Just let me do this for you– let me save you.”
“No,” Willa wails. “I’d rather know than not know.”
The crack is deafening, the pain unlivable, followed by the bliss of utter darkness.
Seconds. Minutes. Lifetimes… moments warp into muddled confusion.
Lying on my belly, listening to Willa’s screams of terror. Her fingernails cutting into my skin as she tries to shake me back to life. The deafening crack of a gun. The murmur of many voices filtering into my ears. First Corbin, then Bren, lastly the cavalry.
Sensing safety, I finally allow myself to drift away, knowing my family will be safe from the monster whose presence I no longer register.
Teddy Bear
Present
Shivering, a quaking wracks my entire body from the soles of my feet to the top of my skull. My teeth rattle together, causing an ache in my jaw. Sweat slicks down my forehead, mixing with the tears of terror and shame running down my cheeks. Try as I might, I can’t freeze my muscles from spasming.
Softness is clutched against my chest, my arms and legs wrapped around the comforting warmth as I rock back and forth while muttering nonsense.
Blinking tears away, I expect to see my mother’s sweet face. “Roy, are you sorry for hitting your brother?”
“Yes, Momma.” I sniffle, rubbing my cheek against the big teddy bear clutched to my chest. “I’m so sorry. I learned my lesson.”
“You can come out of the corner then. Just don’t hit Donny again. He might be older, but he’s too small– fragile.”
“Okay, Momma.” My hand won’t release its hold on the stuffed animal, and my body can’t move except to shake uncontrollably. “Don’t tell Daddy. Please. I don’t want him to think poorly of me.”
“There’s nothing you could ever do to make yer daddy love ya any less, bub.” Big brown eyes shine down at me with pride, but then they warp and shift to watery blue.
“Royce?” Willa calls to me but doesn’t make a move to touch me. “You’re gonna be okay. I promise you you’re safe.”
Anchored to the teddy bear, the corner of Dr. Cassidy’s wall supporting and protecting me, with her desk acting as a shield, I crouch in shame.
“I can’t… I can’t… I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” I mumble over and over again, unable to l
ook Willa or Dr. Cassidy in the eye. I stare at the teddy bears lined up against the side of the desk. I’m holding Papa Bear– he’s black and formidable and at least three feet long. There’s a slightly smaller tan bear that I’ll call Momma Bear. Then there’s the Baby Bears– pink, blue, green, yellow, and purple.
“Those bears are us. Aren’t they?” My accusation is launched at Dr. Cassidy.
“Yes. I’ve waited session after session for you to take the bear you’ve been eyeing since day one.” Dr. Cassidy admits in a calm, professional voice, handing Willa the Momma Bear to hold. “The pink is Hayley. Blue for Hayden. Green for Brennan. Yellow for Wynn. The purple is for Kaden. Whether they ever see the bears or not is not the point. You needed to see that everyone is safe and happy, warm and cuddly, and perfectly healthy.”
“But–” my question is cut off when Dr. Cassidy pulls something big and brown from beneath her desk. Her chair had been hiding it. It’s an exact match to my bear, only lighter in color and trapped by the desk. “Donny.”
“Your brother is safe, Royce.” Dr. Cassidy hands me the bear, and I immediately latch onto it. “I speak with him twice a week for our sessions. You need to understand how some things are out of your control, and that’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” I argue. “It’s my fault he’s locked up.” Hugging the bear, I press my face into its fur. “I want my brother back. Right now.”
“You feel helpless because you can’t free Donny, I get that. We all do. Donny understands it more than any of us.”
“It’s not fair,” I whine like a child, looking exactly like a child as I clutch two teddy bears to my chest. “He didn’t do nothing. He doesn’t deserve to be locked up while that monster rots in the ground. I hate Corbin. I hate him!” I bellow so loudly my eardrums vibrate and ache. “Hate him!”
“It’s not Corbin Gillette’s fault.” Sitting in her chair, Dr. Cassidy tries to reason with me.
Turning feral, I scream, “YES! IT! IS!” at the top of my lungs, until the vein in my forehead throbs and my throat is dry and raw. “If he hadn’t killed Sean, none of this would be happening!”
Tarnished Page 19
