“Ah!” a whimper rings though my ears, and I shoot up in bed, popping my eyes open.
I cough, sweat covering my brow.
The smell… I let out a sob as my eyes burn. My hair hangs in my face, blowing out with my heavy breaths, and my stomach aches as the knots tighten.
What the hell? I cough again, unable to catch my breath.
God. Only remnants of my dream remain, but I can still smell that stench. The pungent, soapy candles gagging me…
Nausea rolls through me as I press the back of my hand to my mouth, and something rises in my throat. Commotion echoes in the house, but pain wracks my body, and I can’t take it. Throwing off my covers, I stumble out of bed, falling to my hands and knees, and scramble toward the trashcan.
I grab the one by my desk and hover over it, heaving.
The odor clogs my nostrils and fills my throat. I don’t remember what the dream was about, but I couldn’t breathe. I still can’t. I gasp.
The bile rises up, and I lurch, coughing and gagging over the can, gripping both sides. Why do I still smell it? It’s all over me like it was all over every inch of furniture in my parents’ room, and I start crying, rubbing the chill off my arms as dirt weighs my skin.
I shake, my sobs breaking loose as the nausea subsides and sadness takes over. I feel like I’m in that house again. I hadn’t realized how I hadn’t felt that in days now.
The cold. The sterile silence and the serrated air stinging my nostrils. That house where the walls were too hard and there was nothing that wasn’t sharp.
I suck in deep breaths and tuck my hair behind my ear, the scent of the wood and the trees outside slowly overshadowing the memory of the candles.
Falling to my ass, I lean back against the wall, my arms propped up on my knees as I squeeze my eyes shut and tears wet my cheeks.
Ugh, that feeling.
I don’t want to feel it again. I shake my head. I don’t want to go back there ever again.
I’m here. I’m in Colorado, with them and the wind and the warm fire and the new smells.
The floor creaks above me, and I open my eyes, slowly raising them up to the dark ceiling.
Kaleb. His room is above mine. A piece of furniture shifts across the floor, another creak here and a stomp there, but then I hear a cry behind me and feel something hit the wall.
Noah’s next to me, and I rest the back of my hand against the wall by my head, feeling his headboard hitting on the other side again and again, the thuds speeding up.
I drop my hand, listening to their panting and moaning. Tears well again, but I let them fall without another sob.
I wish he was alone. He’d probably let me crawl into bed with him tonight, if I wanted. Like a big brother keeping the wolves at bay, because I had a scary dream.
I wouldn’t try, even if he were alone, but…
It’s a nice little fantasy.
Warm.
Safe.
Comfort.
Noah’s like that.
I stand up and lean my forehead into the wall, listening to the boys make love to girls and the ache filling me up, because I’m alone in here, forgotten and… jealous. Why am I jealous?
I squeeze my eyes shut, the tears streaming down over my parched lips, and shake my head.
Walking over, I open my bedroom door and head into the hallway, the noise filling the house louder now. Girls giggle in Noah’s room as a cry echoes from above, followed by moaning, and I pass by, fog in my head as I slowly drift down the stairs.
The cool air hits my bare legs, but it’s a welcome relief as it eases my muscles. I should put a robe on, but I don’t give a shit. I have my first assignment for school due tomorrow that’s far from finished, and I should probably log back into Twitter to see if that girl made good on any of her threats, but I just can’t muster a care in the world about any of it tonight.
I walk through the dark living room, the fire from earlier now extinguished as the black hollow of the fireplace looms to my right, stained with soot. The clock chimes the hour, but I lose count as I head into the kitchen, trying to swallow through the dryness in my throat.
Filling up a glass of water, I lift it to my lips and take several gulps, swallowing fast and emptying the glass. I immediately fill it up again and tip my head back, drinking until I finally feel satisfied.
I stare out the window above the sink. In a matter of weeks, snow will cover the ground. The house will be quiet, no women for miles or months.
They’re like demons. How do they do it year after year?
How will I do it this year?
They’re not my parents. They engage me, and every time they do a flood of feelings I’m not used to navigating comes out and I do or say something stupid.
Or my body wants to respond in ways it shouldn’t.
I rinse out my glass and set it back in the dish rack, leaning against the sink ledge and gazing out the window, staring at nothing.
Locked up here for months with them, I’ll go crazy. They’ll drive me insane. Someone will end up dead.
Something sounding like keys jingle to my right, and I startle, jerking my head around.
Jake sits in the dark corner at the kitchen table, and I straighten, my heart hammering in my chest. He stares at me.
His finger is threaded through the ring of his car keys as he flips them and catches them in his fist with a beer bottle sitting nearby, and I take in his jeans, minus the shirt.
Heat rises to my cheeks, every inch of my visible skin suddenly feeling so much more exposed now as he watches me. I thought he was in his room.
He doesn’t look like he’s been in his room at all, though. He still has his work boots on.
I hold in my shiver, but the points of my breasts harden to rocks through my tank top, and I fold my arms over my chest. I can’t tell if he sees, but a moment later he rubs his finger over his lips.
“What…” I choke out and clear my throat. “What are you doing?”
The music turns on upstairs blasting “Devil in a Bottle,” but Jake just sits there, and I can see where Kaleb gets his silence. Not talking and not communicating are two different things.
I take a step over toward the island, shielding myself. “Where’s your…friend?” I ask softly.
“Home.”
The women all came from the race with us, so he must’ve had to take her back to town himself. Wonder what cut the night so short.
“Not in the mood?” I tease.
But instead of smiling it off, he cocks his head at me, something playing behind his eyes that makes my stomach drop a little.
He hasn’t gone off on me. Why? I’m down here half-dressed in my panties. Why isn’t he barking at me to get some clothes on? Or go to bed?
“I was hungry,” I explain, barely able to meet his eyes. “Are you?”
Again, he just sits there, his eyes on me and only me.
But he doesn’t say no, and he doesn’t tell me to go get dressed.
Tell me I’m acting up. Tell me to get my ass upstairs and into some pajamas.
But he doesn’t.
And I back up, my heart thumping but feeling bold as I turn for the fridge and pull out some eggs. I dare myself, sure that he’ll yell at me any second.
I push it further, walking around the island to get the pan, still waiting for him to tell me to get upstairs.
But he doesn’t, and my eyes burn. Maybe I’m picking a fight.
Or maybe I like to be looked at.
I don’t go upstairs, though.
Moving around the dark kitchen, I keep the lights off as I set the pan on the burner—frying up some butter as I crack and whisk eggs. I add some garlic and Creole seasoning, aware of his eyes on my back and on my every movement. I have no idea what my hair looks like after sleep and the fit I had afterward, but I love the way it feels hanging over my shoulders and down my back. Kind of like what someone touching me would feel like.
My light pink silk panties hug my ass, the bikini straps sitting just below my hips and leaving two inches of skin between them and my gray cami exposed. I reach up, putting the spices away as the muscles in my legs and ass flex, wanting him to see it.
“Why are you awake?” he asks in a raspy voice.
I scrape the eggs over the pan. “Who can sleep with all this noise going on?”
I might be able to sleep through Kaleb, but I definitely can’t sleep through Noah.
I look over at Jake as he rubs his thumb up and down one of the keys, Kaleb’s warm fury playing behind his eyes.
Their noise is different than Noah’s. It’s silent but deafening.
I drop my gaze again, heat spreading across my face as I traipse barefoot to the fridge once more and grab the cheese, grating a handful over the eggs and stirring as I turn off the heat. His eyes are boring into me. I can feel it, and every inch of my skin is alert. I squeeze my eyes shut for a split moment, warmth spreading low in my belly.
Some melted cheese gets on my fingers, and I hiss at the burn. Quickly, I lick it off my forefinger and suck it off my thumb, piling half the eggs on a plate for Jake.
“Here you go,” I only manage a whisper as I lift it up.
But he’s suddenly there, behind me. He takes the plate and sets it back down on the counter.
I freeze.
His chest covers my back, and I smell him like I did today when we fished, warm skin touching mine and tingles spreading down my arms and thighs, only now, I don’t think I’ll run away.
I want to feel this.
“Why’d you run from me today at the lake?” he asks.
I remain quiet.
But my skin hums, and all I can feel is him as the music pounds upstairs.
“Why did you run?”
I shake my head. I don’t know. I…
“Tiernan…” he says in a strangled whisper.
Like a regret. Like he knows exactly why I ran.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, after all,” he says behind me. “We’re not…good influences on a girl.”
“I’m not a girl.”
“Have you ever had a man in your bed?” he asks in a ragged voice.
My heart skips a beat.
Slowly, I shake my head.
He leans down close to my ear. “Have you ever been kissed?”
I nod.
“On places other than your mouth?”
Heat pools between my legs. “No, Uncle Jake.”
His body rises and falls behind me as he breathes into my hair, and I don’t turn around, because I’m afraid of breaking the spell.
Reaching out, he rests his hand on top of mine on the counter, fitting our fingers together as a finger from his other hand softly glides down my spine. A light layer of sweat cools my skin.
Doors slam upstairs as footfalls run from a bedroom to probably the bathroom, and I hear the shower start running as a girl’s laughter breaks out.
“I’m sorry you have to see all this,” Jake says in a pained voice. “When the snow is coming, we soak it up, because we know we won’t see anything pretty all winter.”
His finger traces slowly down my spine.
All winter…
I look down at his possessive hand on mine, remembering his eyes on me from the table a moment ago, and think of how it feels like something is barely being contained, and it hasn’t even snowed yet.
They won’t be locked up here without a woman this year. They’ll have one.
His hot breath filters through the strands of my hair to the back of my neck, and the flesh of my nipples pebble as his hands tease me so painfully gently.
All winter…
“I think you should leave, Tiernan.”
I narrow my eyes, but I turn my hand over, craving his touch on my palms now. It feels so good, my eyelids flutter.
“Leave the peak?” I ask.
Or does he mean leave the kitchen?
He doesn’t answer, and my stomach sinks a little, finally realizing what he’s telling me.
Needles prick the back of my throat. “You said I was home.” I catch his hand mid-caress, thread our fingers, and curl mine to hold his hand tightly. “You said I was yours.”
“This is no place for you.”
Tear well again, but I push them away. He talked me out of leaving yesterday morning, and now he wants me to go. He wants me to be alone. I’m always alone, and you made me know what it was like not to be, and you lied.
“Why did my father give me to you?” I whisper, staring out the window and seeing my uncle’s reflection loom behind me. “They knew what they were going to do. They could’ve waited a few weeks until I was eighteen. They could’ve given me to Mirai.”
I lean back into him more, savoring his warmth and his eyes on my body.
“Maybe they didn’t think about it,” I murmur. “Or maybe they knew it was the only good thing they could do for me.”
At least I was mentioned in the will. I wouldn’t be surprised if I weren’t.
I yank out of his hand, pushing away from the counter, and charge away, but I don’t make it two steps. He grabs my arm, pulls my back into his chest, and I gasp as he wraps his arms around my body and forces my face around to look up at him.
“Do you feel this?” he growls over my lips as he pushes me into the sink. The thick, hard ridge of his cock nudges my ass, and I groan. “This is what you’re doing to me, Tiernan. It’s not right. Instead of pile-driving the hot tits and ass I came home with, I’m sitting down here, trying to talk myself out of going into your room and giving the teenage piece of ass living in my house a really long kiss goodnight.”
My clit throbs, and I shift on my feet, feeling the slickness between my legs.
“And do I take off my panties for that?” I breathe out.
He squeezes his eyes shut, groaning as if in pain, and I only have a moment to suck in a quick breath before his mouth covers mine, a whimper at the sweet pain escaping me.
Fuck.
Fuck…
My heart damn near jumps out of my chest as he moves, taking my lips, and the heat of his tongue swirling down into my belly to between my legs. I cry out, but it’s lost in his mouth.
Oh, my God.
His taste fills my body, and I slide my hand up, taking the back of his neck and holding him to me. I’m so hungry. So hungry, and I can’t breathe. My blood races under my skin, and it feels so good, but God, I need more.
I need more.
I start to move my mouth and kiss him back, slipping my tongue past his lips little by little, moaning and tasting him until I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.
His mouth eats me up, moving over me, kissing the corners of my mouth and nibbling the flesh of my bottom lip, and I put my hand on his at my stomach and guide him down, pushing him to the V between my legs.
His kissing falters as he gasps, and I use the reprieve to try to catch my breath. He bites my bottom lip again, our hands massaging my pussy as his other leaves my face and grabs my breast, squeezing it.
I moan. “Jake.”
Leaving my mouth, he trails down my neck, and all I can do is let my head fall back and take it as he pulls the strap of my tank top down, the faint sound of a tear hitting my ears, but I don’t care. He nibbles, bites, and sucks on my neck, shoulders, and over my shoulder blades as he continues kneading my breast and making my panties so wet as he rubs me through them.
“Jesus, fuck.” He pushes me over the sink, gripping my waist with both hands as he trails his mouth down my back, my thighs, and back up to my ass, taking a mouthful between his teeth.
I cry out, the torn straps of my tank top hanging down as I grip the ledge of the counter.
Rising back up, he turns my face toward him again and kisses me as I reach behind me, finding his erection through his jeans and rubbing him.
He grips my hand. “No, Tier—”
“I’ve never touched a man before,” I breathe out. “I wanna touch you.”
He lets out a sigh, but he releases me, kissing me deep and hard, his tongue lighting every nerve in my body as he grips and feels and runs his hands over every part of me that he can reach.
He thrusts into me from behind, and I’m a mess—a puddle—in his arms, ready for him.
“Take me to bed,” I beg.
He thrusts again as I reach behind and hold onto his neck.
“Take me to bed and give me that kiss goodnight.”
“Yeah,” he grunts, dry-fucking me against the sink.
My head swims behind my closed eyes, and I’m too high to think or care about anything except making this last forever.
He covers my mouth again, and I take his hand and guide it down inside my panties.
But he suddenly tears his mouth away and pulls his hands off me. “Fuck, stop.” He backs away, breathing hard as the chill suddenly hits my skin. “No. No, we can’t.”
I shudder, the ache of need nearly making my knees give out. Tears spring to my eyes.
“This isn’t happening,” he growls. “I’m your uncle. I’m your fucking uncle.”
“You were never my uncle,” I grit out, spinning around. “You’re a no-relation stranger my parents sent me to live with.”
His face is flushed, like mine I’m sure, and sweat glistens on his tanned temples.
“You’re my responsibility,” he tells me.
“But it felt good.”
Pain hits his eyes, and I know he felt it, too. “It felt good tonight,” he says, “but it’ll feel like shit in the morning.”
I shake my head, not caring. I don’t care.
“I’m lonely and an emotionally stunted child, and you’re the first woman I’ve been around long enough to get connected to in the past twenty years.” He stands up straight, running a hand through his hair. “And you’re just a neglected orphan, desperate for attention. That’s all this is.”
“Desperate…” I stare at him, my face cracking.
No.
I’m not desperate. I’ve had opportunities, but I never wanted it. Until now. I chose this.
But he looks at me hard. “You scream at night,” he says. “In your sleep. You never talk about them. You’re running from that life as fast as you can, and I won’t be your gateway drug. I’ll hate myself.”
I chew on my lip. He hears me at night?
“This is acting out.”
“It’s not.” I shake my head, hearing a door slam shut upstairs.
He inches close again, speaking low. “You threw away your candy,” he says. “You don’t accept Noah’s invitations to the track when he goes to practice. You don’t engage Kaleb when he’s fighting you. You still barely join us for meals or in front of the TV at night.”
I drop my eyes and clench my teeth, overwhelmed. Why is he doing this? Everything felt so good a minute ago.
“You don’t laugh or play or want anyone or have passion for anything,” he goes on. “You have no hobbies, no interests, no boyfriends at home… Ever, am I right?”
I look away, but he comes in and cups my face. I jerk away, but he holds tight, and I can’t stop it from spilling over. Tears starts to stream.
“You never smile,” he says quietly as the music and noise rage in the faraway recesses of the house. “You never feel joy. No dreams for the future. No plans. You have no fight in you. You’re barely alive, Tiernan.”
I struggle for air, sobbing as he holds me.
“It wasn’t always like that, though, was it?” he asks but doesn’t wait for me to answer. “It couldn’t have been. You must’ve loved things. Wanted things. Things that made you happy.”
He kisses my forehead.
“You are beautiful,” he tells me, “and pulling my body away from yours was the most pain I’ve ever been in, but I did it, because it was the right thing to do.”
“It didn’t feel that way.”
“Because feeling anything felt good,” he throws back. “You have a lot of big emotions going through that young mind of yours right now, and you needed a release. You broke. I could’ve been anyone.”
I shake my head, pulling away from him. “It was more than that.”
But he looks at me sternly. “Why did you throw the candy away, Tiernan?”
What?
“I…” I search for my words. “I didn’t want it. You…you made me get it.”
“That’s bullshit. Why did you throw it away?”
“Because I didn’t want it!” I say again. “It’s just candy. What the hell? What does it matter?”
“You threw it away, because it did matter,” he barks.
I start to walk away.
But he grabs my arm. “Don’t you see? That’s what happened.” He turns me around, but I turn my head away, refusing to look at him. “At some point, you started denying yourself anything that made you happy. Out of spite, maybe? Or pride? Candy? Toys? Pets? Affection? Love? Friends?”
I flex my jaw, but I’m breathing hard as he shakes me.
“And I know that, because I did it, too,” he tells me. “You don’t want to smile, because if you do, it means everything they did to you didn’t matter. And it has to matter or else they’re off the hook, right? And you can’t have that.”
I shake my head, but I still can’t meet his eyes.
“They need to know what they did to you,” Jake says, acting like he knows me. “Showing them how they hurt you will hurt them, right? They need to see how they ruined your life. You can’t just let it go like it was nothing, because you’re angry. You need them to know. You need someone to know.”
No. That’s not…
I have hobbies. I have things I like. I…
“So you’ll waste your life,” he continues, “blow off your future, going through the motions, and diving into anything that makes you feel good for even a moment…”
I shake my head, the tears pooling more and more.
No. I have interests. I let myself enjoy things. I…
“And then someday after the fights and the job you hate and the divorces and the kids that can’t stand you…”
I just keep shaking my head. I don’t care what they did or didn’t do. I don’t need this.
But the memory of our vacation to Fiji when I was eleven pops into my head and how they only took me, because the press had caught on that I was rarely ever with my parents.
And how one morning I woke up in the suite alone and waited for them for two days, because they took an overnight trip around all the islands and forgot about me.
I was so scared.
“You’re going to look in the mirror at the seventeen-year-old girl in a fifty-year-old body and realize you wasted so much time being devastated at how those fuckers didn’t love you that you forgot there’s an entire world of people who will.”
I crack. My eyes close, my body shakes, and I just sob, letting it go. The anger, the pain, the exhaustion of them taking up nearly every ounce of my brain, because for so long, there was nothing else I lived for, than for them to notice me.
He’s right.
I look up at him, tears spilling down my face. “They didn’t leave me a note,” I say, “Why did they do that?”
He picks me up, sets me on the countertop, and wraps his arms around me again, one hand gripping my hair as I bury my face in his neck.
I cry so hard it’s silent, and I can’t keep it back even if I try.
“Because they were fuckers, baby,” he says, his voice thick. “They were fucking fuckers.”
“I don’t know who I am,” I sob.
“Shhhh…”
He soothes me, rubbing his fingers in my hair and holding me tight. My arms hang limply at my side as every speck of energy drains, everything I’ve been holding in over the years and didn’t want to feel. It hurts.
“Shhhh…” he whispers in my ear. “It’s okay.”
He keeps me there, and I don’t know how long I cry, but when the tears start to slow, embarrassment warms my cheeks.
I try to lift up, but his hold stays firm, not letting me escape.
And just like that. I let it everything go. The worry, the doubt, the shame… I’m a fucking basket case, but he’s not going anywhere.
Slowly, I circle his waist with my arms, locking my hands behind his back as I breathe in the scent of his neck.
Warm. He’s so warm and they’re so warm. Everything is warm here. And even if we’re not finishing what we started, this feels just as good. I think Mirai was the last one to hug me. I let her do it on my last birthday, but I don’t think I let her give me a real one in years.
I calm after a while, the pain fading, because I know the truth. My parents didn’t love me.
And that wasn’t my fault.
But they did one thing right, I think as I hang onto my uncle and he holds onto me.
“So, you want me to tuck you in then?” Jake asks. “I can do that.”
I can’t help it. I let a laugh escape, and I feel his chest shake with one, too.
I lift my head up and wipe my eyes, seeing the drying tears streaked down his chest.
I wipe it off. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
Sniffling, I take a dish towel and clean both of us up. “You know, I was trying to be happy,” I inform him. “Meet a guy and all, but you wouldn’t let me.”
“I was afraid guys for you right now would just be you acting out. I didn’t want you to do something you’d regret.”
I stare up into blue eyes. So if this was just me acting out, what was it for you?
I swallow. I can still feel his hands on me.
“And maybe I was scared, too,” he tells me, giving me a cocky little smile. “Everyone will want you, and it’s our time with you.”
A flutter hits my belly. I like it when they say stuff like that.
“You okay with that?” he asks.
I nod. Having a family is nice.
He pulls me down off the counter and gives me a swat in the ass. “Now go back to bed.”
I give a weak smile and feel his touch again as he tries to put my strap back over my shoulder. But it just falls back over my breast.
“And you probably shouldn’t walk around dressed like this,” he says, his voice quiet again.
I look up, meeting his eyes.
He cocks his head. “Especially this winter.”
