Tragic Beauty

by Iris Ann Hunter

  I turn away, my mind venturing back to that day, when all I want to do is block it out. But it’s there, tearing through me so clearly, so vividly, just like it was yesterday.

  “It was recess, after the holiday break, wasn’t it?” Shayne starts, dragging his touch down my neck. “You were off, sitting by yourself as usual, reading a book, while all the other kids were off bragging about what they got for Christmas. But you didn’t have anything to brag about, and neither did me or Red, so we were off to the side too, not far from where you were. I’d shoved a rock in Red’s hand and was trying to get him to throw it at this scrawny cat that was stuck up in that oak tree. Red missed it on purpose, but then I nailed it good, making it howl something awful. That got your attention real quick, and you figured out what we were up to. So you marched right on over and started throwing rocks at me and Red. Here you were, this tiny little thing, with these big, blue eyes and this ratty mane of white blonde hair, all swallowed up in this tattered blue dress, and you were nailing us good with those rocks, one after the other.”

  He chuckles and his fingers drift down, following the curve of my breast. “Red was all shook up, looking like you’d hurt his feelings, but not me. I was laughing, wasn’t I? I didn’t laugh much back then, but you got me going good. I tried to calm you down, saying we were just having a little fun, but all that did was make you madder. So you picked up another rock and threw it right at me. You didn’t care that I was older, bigger, and stronger than you, because you didn’t care about much then anymore, did you? Nah, your world was crumbling down, because your momma had just left and your daddy had been drunk ever since. And not only that, but you weren’t talking anymore. I said as much to you, and you just bent down for more rocks, those big pretty eyes getting all glassy. Then what’d I tell you, hmm?”

  He reaches up and strokes the fresh tears that coat my cheeks. “I said, ‘You don’t need them. You don’t need either of them.’ I said it in this quiet voice that made you stop and listen. You just stared at me then, like you were trying to figure out what I was really saying. And then I saw the tears begin to build, and your lower lip begin to quiver, but I didn’t like seeing that—at least not back then. So, I told you it was a good thing she left, because at least now you had a backbone. And man, that fire got so big in your eyes and you started launching those rocks at me again, as hard as you could.”

  He chuckles again, his dark eyes roaming over my face. “That’s about when that bitch, Mrs. Carlson, saw you, wasn’t it? She shrieked your name, then came waddling over, demanding to know why you would do such a thing. You got pale and pointed up at the cat in the tree who was crouched on a branch, with these scared, yellow eyes, and its ears flat against its head. The cunt figured out what we were up to, but she still got all over you, didn’t she? Instead of us.” He pauses and shakes his head with a sigh. “Yeah, your momma had slept with almost every guy in town by then, her husband included. She’d even walked in on them. That bit of gossip flew around town real quick. Anyway, she said something to us about leaving the cat alone, then grabbed you by the arm and started dragging you away, saying you had detention for the next week. And you were so mad, and your cheeks got so red, that I couldn’t help but grin at you when you walked past. Well, that lit you up even more, didn’t it? So you jerked free of her, and threw that last rock you had hidden in your hand. You threw it right at me, and tagged me right in the chest.” He pats the tattoo over his heart. “Right here.”

  He shrugs. “And that was it, Ava, right then and there. I was done. I was always watching you after that, wasn’t I? Yeah, you know I was. Always watching. Because I couldn’t help myself. You were the prettiest damn thing I’d ever seen.” He runs a finger along my cheek and over my lips. “You still are.”

  His fingers drift along my jaw and down my neck, grazing gently over my shoulder blade. I whimper when they move lower and around my breasts again, only this time, they linger.

  “I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, then he dips his head and rakes his tongue over my left nipple. The sensation makes me gasp, my flesh so sensitive after the belt. Then he’s on me, devouring, sucking, gnawing.

  “So perfect,” he whispers, then moves onto the other one. My head falls back, the tears warm and wet against my temples.

  My nipples are left raw and aching when he slowly makes his way further down my body. He falls to his knees and buries his face in my pubic hair and breathes in hard. I squirm and press my bound legs together tighter, but he pries his arms between my knees and grabs my bottom, and shovels me into his mouth. All my weight hangs on my wrists, causing more flesh to tear away.

  His tongue licks me like fire and the more I struggle, the more he takes from me. But the more he takes, the more a feeling begins to build inside me—a feeling that makes my stomach turn. My body’s responding, betraying me. I clench my teeth and shake my head, trying to fight it off, but like Shayne, it’s relentless. I grunt when his fingers invade me. First one, then two, then three. I feel full, stretched. But it’s when his fingers push through my other entrance that I cry out, the beast forcing his way into every part of me.

  It goes on forever, until finally, his touch leaves me, and through a dreary blur, I see Shayne on his knees at my feet, head bowed, panting.

  Slowly, he rises and meets my eyes. “See how good you taste,” he says, pushing his fingers between my lips.

  I try to jerk away, but his fingers follow me, so I bite down. He growls and yanks his fingers from my mouth. I expect a strike, but he only smiles. “That’s my girl.”

  My head falls forward, both from exhaustion and frustration. I don’t have to look to know that Shayne’s taking off the rest of his clothes. I can hear it.

  I flinch when he grabs my body and spins me around. His hardness digs into my back, like a burning steel rod, as he jerks at the rope and undoes my wrists, then my ankles. I gather what little strength I have left to fight back, but my struggles do nothing to stop him. He grabs me and throws me down on my back and climbs on top of me. The burn on my hip grates against the comforter, and I cry out.

  I keep trying to get away, but he pins my wrists and settles his weight on top of me. “This has been a long time coming, Ava.”

  He forces my legs apart, and with his black eyes staring me down, he enters me, splitting me open. I shriek, the pain from my hip gone, replaced by another, so thick and so vicious I can’t breathe.

  Shayne groans, his eyes fixed on mine, then he lunges into me again, the agony exploding to every part of me. Then he takes me, over and over, grunting and forcing his way so deep inside I think I’ll die. I close my eyes to hide the terror on top of me, but it’s overwhelming. Time slows, my mind shrinks. I try to think of green eyes. Try to imagine it’s Gavin over me. But the beast is too real. The pain is too real. It goes on forever, an endless hell I can’t escape. When he finally comes, my body feels torn in half, my soul shattered. After a few final thrusts, he lies quiet, breathing hard over me.

  I turn my head to the side, unable to face the monster. Tears stream quietly down my face. It’s only then I realize he hadn’t used protection. Some faint glimmer of relief wells inside that I have the implant, but it dies out, leaving just wreckage.

  I barely hear him when he whispers, “You felt so good, baby.”

  His words fade away, and I feel him stroking my cheek, kissing my neck, but the tenderness does nothing to ease the hurt inside me. I begin to drift, vaguely aware he’s let go of my wrists until he flips me over onto my stomach. Now I am aware. Aware that he’s hard against me once more. I make a meek sound of protest, but his only answer is to spit and finger my other entrance. The sudden breach makes me lunge forward, but he pins me down.

  “Did you give him this too?” he asks.

  I nod with a jerk, not caring that I’m lying.

  I brace for the worst, but he only sighs and shoves in a second finger, causing me to grunt. When the third finger enters, I shriek.

  “Yo
u know what I think?” he says, slowly moving his fingers back and forth. “I think you’re lying to me again. You’re way too tight.” I cringe when he leans down over me and whispers, “Can’t tell you how happy that makes me, wife.”

  The bed creaks when he shifts over me, straddling my thighs. His fingers are gone, but when I hear him spit again, I know what’s coming. I try to squirm away, but his flesh is there, relentless, the pressure slowly building until the head pushes its way in. My scream shatters the air, the pain so blinding tears burst through my eyes.

  I barely hear his voice behind me. “Don’t worry, Ava. You don’t deserve it, but I’ll go slow. I’m a lot to take, I know. And this little ass. So damn snug. You’re not much bigger than you were on that playground, are you? You’re a little taller now, a lot more filled out in the chest, but your body almost looks like it did back then. My little Ava. But don’t worry, I’ll get you loosened up. Not too much though. Didn’t get to make you bleed with your other hole, so guess I’ll have to do it with this hole.”

  He slips out of me, only to enter again. He does this for a bit, until my flesh finally starts to give, and the pain begins to settle. Then he leans down, cradling my head in his hands, and begins moving over me, slow and relentless, venturing deeper and deeper.

  “I love hearing you cry like this,” he says, running his lips across my cheek. “You sound so sweet, so precious. And you know what? This is my hole now, Ava. You gave him that other one, so this one is going to be mine. All mine. And see, you’re softening already. Ahhh, fuck. There you go. That’s my girl. Almost halfway there. But I still got to make you bleed, don’t I?”

  He stills above me, his body so quiet when he gives me a kiss on my cheek, then he grips me by the hair and shoves himself all the way in. I feel the tear and I scream. I scream so loud, and I can’t stop. I scream until my voice is nothing but a rasp, but the pain’s still there.

  “Fuuuck,” he hisses into my ear, leaving himself wedged in. He strokes my hair, nuzzles my neck. “I’m so far inside you,” he whispers. “I’ll always be inside you, from here on out.”

  Slowly, he draws out the length of him, then pushes his way back in until I feel the rake of his pubic hair against my tailbone. He gives a few quick grinding thrusts, that make me shriek even louder, then he does it again and again.

  I’m drowning, spiraling into a sea of pain I can’t escape. The beast grunts and his pace builds, until he’s pounding into me so hard the bed shakes and I can’t breathe. It barely registers when he shoves his hand between me and the mattress, and begins circling my flesh.

  I sob, because I don’t want this. Not from him.

  “Fight me all you want, Ava,” he says, “but I’m going to make you come, wife.”

  I’m determined not to give him what he wants, but he touches me, manipulates me. I fight him, fight the unwanted pleasure. It’s something I don’t want, not from him. But Shayne knows what he’s doing, and the pain is changing, turning to pleasure as my body loosens, taking him in. My mind reels, torn between want and need, and then I come, choking, gasping.

  “Fuck,” he groans. He lunges into me, into my most private place, and lets out a roar that tears me apart. It goes on forever, echoing inside my skull, until finally, it dies out.

  It’s quiet now, except for his heavy breathing and my quiet weeping. He stays huddled over me, the heat from his body burning through mine, searing me in the broken places, especially my hip. My hip. The thought of what’s there twists like a blade inside my gut, adding to the horrible ache flooding me inside.

  Slowly he withdraws, the mattress shifting and creaking when he stands. I want to hide, I want to curl up and die, but I’m too weak to move.

  “Told you I’d make you bleed, Ava.”

  I’m past caring, about his words or that his voice sounded sad.

  The light shifts when he moves to the other side of the bed, near my head. He sits next to me and pushes my hair from my face—hair that’s soaked in sweat and tears.

  “Now sleep wife. Get some rest. We’re going out later.”

  My eyes peel open and widen just a fraction, then droop closed once more, my mind limping off to some dark wasteland. I search for green eyes among the shadows, but they elude me.

  Because he’s gone.

  Everything’s gone.

  Somewhere in the distance, I hear a voice drifting through the haze.

  “And don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ve got a dress and a ring lined up for you. Cause we’ve got some celebrating to do. It’s our wedding night, after all.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Gavin

  I sit in the truck next to Ben while he drives us back to Ava’s place. Something in me always knew I’d end up in jail, I just never thought it would be for something I actually wasn’t guilty of. It was self-defense after all, but it could’ve easily gone the other way. I was ready to pounce on the fucker the moment he stepped through the doorway.

  “Thanks again,” I say, “not just for the ride, but, you know, stepping forward as a witness.”

  “Yeah.”

  I look out the window, gazing at the open country. It’s dark out, but there’s enough moonlight to make out the open fields and curving hills, the silhouettes of trees scattered here and there. There’s a tug at something deep inside me, as though something’s loosening. There’s room to breathe here. No buildings cramped tight, no cars piled up at traffic lights with horns blowing. In Los Angeles it’s always go, go, go. Even Santa Barbara—it’s beautiful, but still, it feels crowded. Especially having grown up in country like this, where you can look into the horizon and see nothing but the curves of the earth, and the sky above it.

  Ben’s voice brings me back around. “Never seen such a madhouse. Reporters all over the place. You always gotta deal with that shit?”

  “Yeah. It’s a fucking nightmare. Although, I guess today it worked in my favor. Not sure the sheriff would’ve been so keen to let me go otherwise.”

  Ben snorts. “Can’t tell ya how nice it was to see Carson actually looking worried for once. Thought those buttons were going to pop right off his shirt, he was puffin’ so hard.”

  The crunch of gravel sounds as Ben turns into Ava’s place. He pulls up alongside my car while I stare at her house. “Think she’ll be coming back anytime soon?”

  “Got a feelin’ it’ll be a while.”

  I think back to what Ben told me after Ava left. I still can’t wrap my head around it. Then the chaos of what happened in the living room sets in. “Fuck, I got a mess to clean up in there.”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. I got my own mess to clean up too.”

  I shake my head but he cuts me off with a lift of his hand. “Really. It’ll give me a job to do. Help keep my mind off other things.”

  I don’t like it, but I understand. I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. Luckily I’ve got some hundreds in there, so I hand him all I’ve got. He won’t take it, but I press him on it. “Please,” I say. “You got to let me do something.”

  Maybe it’s the tone of my voice that has him changing his mind, but he takes it with a nod of his head.

  “You need anything, just let me know,” Ben says. “You know where I am.”

  “Alright.” I step out of the truck and wave. “Thanks again.”

  Ben nods and heads back out the drive. There’s something comforting about that old man. Reminds me of how my father might’ve turned out, if he’d been able to get past his demons.

  I turn and face the crumbling ranch house. Everything is dark and quiet, except for the chirp of crickets. A memory of another time and place. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and the memory’s wiped away.

  I pull my cell out and see it’s Lenny, my agent. I don’t want to take it, but he’ll just keep calling if I don’t.

  “Hey,” I answer.

  “Gavin, my man! Tell me you’re out. Tell me the lawyers got it handled.”

  “Yeah. I’m out.”

/>   “Oh, thank fuck!”

  I tune out as Lenny rambles on. From what I can hear in the background, it sounds like he’s at a party, probably out fishing for his next big star. He’s not as big an ass as some of the other agents out there, but he’s still a piece of work. I tune back in when he mentions work. “Hey, your flight’s all set for London first thing Monday. Ready for round three?”

  “Yeah,” I lie. There are some things I like about filming, but in reality, it’s a lot of waiting around with little bursts of acting. I can’t help but feel like a fucking trained animal wagging its tail whenever the director says action.

  “Alright,” Lenny says, after someone calls his name in the background. “I gotta run, bad boy. Stay out of trouble, okay? You know how the studios are. But hey, in my book, bad publicity is still good publicity.” Lenny chuckles and hangs up.

  I have to close my eyes and temper my thoughts, otherwise my phone’s about to be launched. I take a deep breath, shove the phone back in my pocket and walk to my car. Minutes later, I pull out of Ava’s driveway, feeling as though I’m leaving something precious behind.

  On the way out of town, my eyes settle on a sign that makes my mouth water. Buck’s Bar.

  The parking lot’s crowded and I wonder how a place like this, in a town this size, could be so busy, but then I remember it’s Saturday night, and probably not much else to do around here. I grab my hoodie and put it on, and with eyes down and hood up, make my way into the bar. It’s loud and smells like beer and sawdust, and there are people everywhere. Most are off to the right, sitting at tables or listening and dancing to the live band playing country music, the lead singer sporting a cowboy hat and a beard that trails down to his chest.

  I walk to the left, keeping my head down as I make my way past antlers and old bits of ranch and farming equipment hanging on the wall, to the far back corner and take a seat at the bar. Thankfully it’s dark, with a few empty seats next to me. I don’t want company. All I want is something to quench the thirst—a thirst I got from my dad. You’d think I’d stay away from the stuff after watching him drown in it all his life, but that’s part of the thrill. It’s that demon in me, not happy unless it’s flirting with that line between control and chaos. Most times I keep it steady, but sometimes, I crash. And when I crash, I crash big.