Chapter 33 #2
I turn into the driveway, the wheels crunching through inches of new snow, and come to a stop. I stare at the cabin, so quaint and quiet in the winter wilderness, this perfect place frozen in time that was just ours.
I climb out of the truck, my boots sinking into the soft white powder. It comes up above my ankles, and I give it a little kick with a gentle smile. Snow is a bit of a rarity in the Pacific Northwest, so I still get a little thrill when I see it coating the ground and trees like icing on a cake.
As I walk around the truck, I hear a clucking noise and am surprised to see Captain Jack bob his head out of the shed. He gives me an indignant squawk when I laugh.
“Hey, little guy,” I say quietly as I approach him, crouching low. He cocks his head, his beady black eyes judging me. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t let them get hurt,” I say solemnly.
A chunk of snow falls next to him, and he flutters his wings and wanders back inside.
I stand back up and start to move toward the cabin but stop when I reach the steps, realizing that I can’t do this here.
I can’t bring myself to taint this place, so instead, I turn around and trudge up the path toward the barn.
Dawn is just starting to brighten the cloudy sky with bluish-gray light when I reach the clearing, but the structure’s silhouette is still dark in the shadow of the mountain.
When I open the door, it creaks ominously.
I don’t bother to turn on any lights. I just breathe in the musty hay and pine permeating the air.
I scan the space as my eyes adjust, and I notice the blankets that we left from our last visit.
I walk over to the pile and grab one. Then, I sit down in front of the old heater and flick it on.
The black coils flare to bright orange and a burning smell assaults my nostrils, but I let the heat soak into my body while I wait for the inevitable.
The door slamming closed startles me awake.
I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I’m curled up on a scratchy blanket on the wood floor.
Heavy footfalls sound behind me, and I know it’s him.
I can smell his patchouli cologne, and it triggers memories I’d rather forget, causing nausea to churn my stomach.
He bends down close to my ear, and I tremble when his fist tangles in my hair, pulling my head back at an awkward angle so that I’m squinting up at him painfully.
“Are you alone?” His voice is deep and emotionless.
I nod as best I can in his punishing grip.
He releases my hair, and I fall back to the floor.
I look up at him as he stalks around me like a predator.
He’s dressed meticulously, like always, in a navy suit.
Even when he came to my bedroom for all those years, he always wore pressed trousers and dress shirts.
I hated the way he forced me to undress him one button at a time, fold his clothes, and lay them neatly on the foot of my bed.
I hated the way he raped me while he wore gold-toed dress socks and then left my room with his clothing in perfect order like he didn’t just violate me in the worst possible way.
My heart pounds in my eardrums.
Dennis’s cold eyes assess me, and he wrinkles his nose, his mustache twitching. “You fucked them both.”
It’s a statement, and I don’t respond. Glaring at him, I clutch my hands together to control the shaking, refusing to feel weak in front of him.
“Just give me the papers. I’ll sign them, okay? Take my entire inheritance. I know that’s what you want.”
“And what if I want you, Red?” He places one hand on his knee and uses the other to tip my chin up so that I’m forced to meet his gaze. Then his fingernail trails over my cheek and pushes strands of my hair behind my ear.
I shudder. “Do you promise to leave Sebastian and Brantley alone? If I sign the papers?”
“No.” He cocks his head to one side. “They fucked what’s mine.”
“Then I’ll fight you every step of the way,” I snarl. “Kill me if you want, but I won’t submit and you won’t see any of my mom’s money.” I bare my teeth at him. “Brantley’s dad will kill you.”
He purses his lips, looking amused by my emotional outburst. “And if I promise to leave them be?”
I raise my chin, pulling my face away from his touch. “Then you can do whatever you want to me, and I won’t stop you. Take the money. Pay off your debt. Rape me. Marry me. Whatever.”
His eyes narrow. “What would be the fun in that? I like a little fight in my women. Sometimes I used to ignore your mother’s safe word, just to see her cry while I fucked her.
Breaking her was my favorite pastime. I think I’d like to break you too.
” I swallow, fear threatening to choke me, and he pulls a folded document from his pocket, tosses it in my face, and smirks when I flinch.
“Marriage is a nice idea. Won’t really need this when we’re married, will we?
Everything will just be mine, including your pussy. ”
He stands, and I watch him cautiously as he picks up one of the blankets and shakes it off.
Then he lays it on the floor and smooths out the corners.
“You know, it’s a shame that Nedry is gone.
” He doesn’t sound sad, just disappointed, and the chill in his tone is almost more terrifying than the thought of what’s about to happen.
“We were going to share you. A little father-son bonding moment.”
My head snaps up, disgust crawling up my throat. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“He really liked your mother,” Dennis says as he bends to untie his shoes. “I let him fuck her when he was fifteen, and he was always so taken with her long hair. I think that’s why he was okay trading up for the younger model. Too bad he fucked up and got himself killed.”
I rear back in horror, scooting backward until the heater stops me. “You…you let your son rape my mother?”
He clucks his tongue, like he’s chastising a child. “Would we call it rape? Sure, she was really drunk, but she was always happy to share. We even did it together a few times.”
Saliva floods my mouth, and I gag, trying my damnedest not to vomit all over myself. How did I not realize he was so sick? I mean, he molested me and raped me, but this makes it even worse.
My eyes dart for the door, but a feeling of helplessness heats my limbs.
Shouldn’t Detective Lin be here by now?
“I’ll make a deal with you. I’m going to make love to you, and you’re going to let me.
And I give you my word that I won’t hurt those boys if you promise to never mention their names ever again.
You’ll leave with me—leave this country—and never come back.
” He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and steps out of his pants, folding them neatly and placing them on the edge of the blanket.
“You’ll be my property to do with as I please. Do you understand?”
“Why should I believe you?” I hate the way my voice shakes.
He shrugs, standing tall in nothing but a pair of plaid boxers, his erection already tenting the front. “It’s the best option you have, Red. Now take off your clothes.”
When I hesitate, he grabs my throat, pulling me toward him. He throws me down, my knees colliding painfully with the floor.
“Did I stutter? Take off your fucking clothes.”
I bite the insides of my cheeks as panic bubbles to the surface.
Maybe no one’s coming.
I take a deep breath, trying to disassociate as I take off B’s jacket with trembling fingers.
I think about his scar, a testament to all he’s lost, and Seb’s grumpy scowl.
I think about watching movies, hot tea, Lucky Charms, and lazy mornings.
I think about reading Terry Brooks by the fire.
I think about Brantley’s strip tease and the way he literally danced like no one was watching.
I think about Seb’s piercing blue eyes and the tattoo scrolled across his perfect skin.
No fate but what we make.
I put all those beautiful memories into a little box in the back of my mind and lock it away. This moment will never touch them.
Us.
And when the last of my clothing drops to the floor, the cold air biting my bare skin, I feel nothing. No fear. No anger. No disgust.
Just nothing.
He steps forward, pulling my smaller body against his, his erection bumping my stomach.
“Get on your knees,” he growls, and I do.
I stare blankly up at him, taking in his wrinkled skin sagging loosely around his muscles and the gray hairs nestled around his dick as he pulls it from his underwear and brings it to my pursed lips. “Open.”
I part my lips reluctantly, and he slides his length inside and twists my hair around his fist. My eyes water, tears coursing down my cheeks, and I don’t know whether it's from pain, disgust, or a reflex when he violently thrusts it into my mouth.
I almost puke, warm bile teasing my throat as he pulls out and pushes in again, moaning with his teeth bared.
It occurs to me that he’s awfully brave or stupid if he thinks I won’t bite him, and when I go to do just that, his hand shoots out, catching my cheeks in a tight grip.
“Play nice, Red,” he warns.
I start giggling like a lunatic, and he gives me a strange look. But how is this happening right now?
Dennis pulls out of my mouth, fisting his cock, and I turn my face to the side when he slaps the head of it against my cheek, leaving a sticky, wet trail.
“If you aren’t going to play nice, neither am I. You’ll learn to respect me as a man and as your husband.” He grabs one of my tits in his large hand and twists it painfully, smiling as I gasp and curl in on myself.
Then, he shoves me down until I’m on my hands and knees. He folds over me, his cock pressing into my ass as he rests his full weight on my body and forces my head onto the floor, pinning it there with a firm grip on the back of my neck.