The Woman. Part 17

He took the steps two at a time.

She glanced out the window and saw him loping toward the barn. She'd read the note on the fridge. He was supposed to feed the dogs. But she couldn't remember ever seeing him so eager to fulfill that particular duty.

She went back to the book.

In the barn the dogs were all excited barking and snapping but the dogs could wait. 'Till h.e.l.l froze over as far as he was concerned. He had other stuff to do.

He went directly to his dad's old toolbox and rummaged inside.

TWENTY-FIVE.

This is the boy whose eyes hunt her through the hole in the cellar door. The boy who burned her. The boy with the gun.

His body betrays him. He walks down the stairs and over to her as though it's nothing to him - but it is something. Something that makes him jitter inside. When he reaches out to her to do as his father as done, to remove her clothing, his hands tremble. The boy is a coward. It's time to show him that.

She hisses. hisses. Long and hard through her bared teeth. She is a cat, a snake.

She strikes him dead with her eyes.

Brian lurches back. And then thinks, f.u.c.k you f.u.c.k you, there's nothing you can do to me. His hands return to the b.u.t.tons of her dress. By the time he's finished he's already got a hard-on. But he wants to play with her a while.

He takes a cookie out of his pocket. In the other pocket is the real real toy. But for now he breaks the cookie in half and eats half of it and then holds the other half out to her. Daring her mouth. Daring those teeth. toy. But for now he breaks the cookie in half and eats half of it and then holds the other half out to her. Daring her mouth. Daring those teeth.

She's fast, he knows. But he figures he's faster.

She won't accept it. She turns her f.u.c.king head away.

"What the h.e.l.l's wrong with you?" he says. "I mean, who doesn't like cookies?"

So he eats that half too. He takes his time chewing, looking her over.

She's naked underneath there. All he has to do is lift the dress.

His hard-on's a whopper now.

He reaches into his other pocket and takes out his father's needle-nose pliers. He shows them to her. Snaps them open and closed a couple of times just to show her what they can do. He wonders if she gets the picture. He wonders if she bruises easily.

He pokes her in the ribs.

Pokes her again. Hard this time. The pliers aren't sharp enough to draw blood but you can bet they hurt. He pokes her in the belly. In each of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He hears the sharp intake of breath. Each time he pokes her she throws herself back against the shelf behind her but her nipples are hard now. He wonders if she's enjoying this.

He sure is.

Isn't that what happens to women when they're enjoying having s.e.x? Their nipples get hard?

He throws her dress over her shoulder just as he's seen his dad do and stands there a moment to take her in. There's all of a sudden this really strange, really good sensation. And not just in his c.o.c.k. He feels good all over, tingly, strong. If this is what power feels like, he likes it very much.

He runs his hands over her belly up to her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and squeezes. Her skin isn't as soft as he'd imagined but her nipples are huge and long as budding twigs. The woman squirms beneath his touch as though something dirty's touching her and he doesn't like that at all, there's nothing dirty about him, this is only natural. He's a guy and she's a woman and this is what women are all about, right? So f.u.c.k her. He grabs the t.i.ts again and squeezes so hard he thinks they'll pop.

She growls growls at him and sniffs the air and spits out some words in that stupid language he doesn't understand. at him and sniffs the air and spits out some words in that stupid language he doesn't understand.

"Feoil ur! Muiceoil!"

"Fresh meat! Pig-meat!"

She says this with contempt and presses back against the wooden board behind her, feels it s.h.i.+ft and give again, give a little more each time. The boy is confident now. The boy thinks he has power. If she can break this board he will not feel so confident anymore, not at all.

She can suffer his hands. The hands are nothing.

She repeats her words and Brian doesn't like that one bit. He gets her G.o.dd.a.m.n tone if not the meaning of the words. It's as though she thinks he's beneath her. As though she's somebody. Time to show her who's who, Brian, Time to show her who's who, Brian, he thinks. he thinks. Time to seriously f.u.c.k with her. Time to seriously f.u.c.k with her.

His parents haven't got a clue G.o.d knows but he's seen stuff like this on the internet, exciting stuff that seemed like it was made just for him, just for Brian Cleek. There are dozens of sites - probably hundreds. They all make noises about consenting adults consenting adults and and role play role play and and submission submission but he knows what they're really all about. They're all about but he knows what they're really all about. They're all about this. this.

He reaches over with the pliers open this time and s.n.a.t.c.hes up her left nipple in its serrated jaws and twists.

The woman jerks up and back but makes no sound. No hisses and no cursing - he a.s.sumes that was cursing- she just sucks it up. So he twists again. A full one-hundred-eighty degrees this time. Still no sound. Let's see if she can go all three sixty Let's see if she can go all three sixty he thinks and jams his free hand into his pants working her and working himself and he's just about to come, he's he thinks and jams his free hand into his pants working her and working himself and he's just about to come, he's that close that close when he hears footsteps pounding on the stairs behind him. when he hears footsteps pounding on the stairs behind him.

"Brian! What the h.e.l.l are you doing?"

It's his sister Peg, closing in on him like a storm cloud. He palms the pliers and takes his hand out of his pants and suddenly he's scared. He's not in charge anymore. Far from it. Caught is what he is.

"You're in trouble now, you little s.h.i.+t."

"You got no need to be down here, Peg. This is guys' business. Men's business."

He's trying for indignation, for defiance. But he can see she's not buying any.

"Men's...??? I don't see any men around here you f.u.c.king little pervert!"

And that p.i.s.ses him off. Really p.i.s.ses him off. He's no pervert. He's doing what any guy would do under the circ.u.mstances. And what plenty of people do on the net every day. Just who the h.e.l.l does Big Sister think she is, anyway? His conscience? He doesn't need any.

"Screw you, Peg!"

He takes a step toward her and it's as though that single step has created some sort of force field between them because she takes one step back. He does it again and so does she and he realizes she's seen something in his face, he doesn't know what exactly but it scares her, she's a lot more scared now than he is. He's smiling. He considers the pliers in his hand. He considers his sister.

But no. There's his mom. There's his dad. This really is trouble and he might just be making it worse right now. He backs off and the force field disappears like an errant gust of wind.

"Get out of here, Brian," she says. "Our mother is going to hear about this. Your father father is going to hear about this. Get out of here is going to hear about this. Get out of here now now!"

There's no choice but to give in. His sister's got her b.a.l.l.s back. But he can't resist knocking into her shoulder as he pa.s.ses.

"Good, Brian," she says. "I'll tell them about that too."

He's already thinking how to explain this - if there's any way way to explain this - as he pounds his way up the stairs. to explain this - as he pounds his way up the stairs.

The girl is hesitant, frozen in front of her. Confused? Frightened? She can read tension but no further than that. She has shouted her brother away. That took courage. Her brother is a coward but he is also dangerous.

Slowly the girl steps toward her and pulls the clothing down off her shoulder to cover her body. It brushes the wounded nipple as it falls.

Peg works at the b.u.t.tons. Surprisingly her hands are very nimble at this. Surprisingly she's not afraid at all.

"I'm sorry," she says. About all of this."

The woman gazes down into her eyes.

"Go raibt maith agat, mathair," she says.

"Thank you, mother."

TWENTY-SIX.

He was the product of what his father had taught him to be, who in turn was the product of what his his father had taught him to be and she wondered how far back in sheer misogyny and greed the Cleeks actually went. She had married blind into this, impressed by his self-possession as a teenager, even more impressed by him in bed - or in fact for the first year or so, in the back seat of his father's Caddy. Her first and only lover. father had taught him to be and she wondered how far back in sheer misogyny and greed the Cleeks actually went. She had married blind into this, impressed by his self-possession as a teenager, even more impressed by him in bed - or in fact for the first year or so, in the back seat of his father's Caddy. Her first and only lover.

Now, waiting for him at the kitchen table with her children a.s.sembled - Peg beside her and Brian and Darleen across from them - she felt like his brood-mare more than his wife. Certainly not his lover. She couldn't even call herself his friend. These children were the issue of her life. Her only issue. She didn't count the other. She wouldn't count the other. These three only. She had nothing else in the world but them.

And of these only Darleen so far had escaped his...pollution. She had to call it that. That was what it was. Something wrong wrong dumped into the stream. And you couldn't even be sure about Darleen, could you? She was far too young. dumped into the stream. And you couldn't even be sure about Darleen, could you? She was far too young.

On Darleen the jury was still out.

It wasn't out on Brian.

Darlin' thought, momma's angry. Momma's really really angry. Bri's done something to make her angry. And Peggy is too - she's angry. At him. She wondered what it was. It might be important to know what it was so that she wouldn't do the same thing sometime and make them angry at her too. angry. Bri's done something to make her angry. And Peggy is too - she's angry. At him. She wondered what it was. It might be important to know what it was so that she wouldn't do the same thing sometime and make them angry at her too.

It was strange just sitting there, not talking, waiting for daddy.

She wanted to give them all kisses to make it all better.

She almost wanted to cry. But she wouldn't.

It was so strange. She didn't even want a cookie.

You're all alike, Peg thought. Men. You do what you want and to h.e.l.l with the consequences. To h.e.l.l with what the woman thinks, what the woman feels. It's all about you. Peg thought. Men. You do what you want and to h.e.l.l with the consequences. To h.e.l.l with what the woman thinks, what the woman feels. It's all about you.

It was rumored around school that Miss Raton was a lesbo.

She wouldn't blame her. Not one bit.

Brian felt like he had one chance and one chance only. A single card to play and that was it. He had seen his dad f.u.c.king her. He knew what n.o.body else did. If it came down hard on him, could he play that card? Would he dare to? Would it turn out better or worse for him if he did?

He didn't know. Hoped he wouldn't have to find out.

She heard the Escalade pull up outside.

"Darlin'?" she said. "Go to your room."

Her daughter was upset. And probably quite confused. Rightly so.

"Why? I didn't..."

"Don't worry, honey. This isn't about you. This is about your brother. Now go up to your room like a good girl."

She watched her slide off the chair and sulk her way out of the kitchen. She knew her daughter. Upset and confused she might be, but with Darleen it was always important to be in on in on things, not to be left out. That inquisitive spirit might be useful to her in the future or it might get her into very deep trouble. It was impossible to know. things, not to be left out. That inquisitive spirit might be useful to her in the future or it might get her into very deep trouble. It was impossible to know.

She glanced at Brian, fidgeting in his chair with his hands folded in his lap as though he were in church faced with a long boring sermon. Then at Peggy glaring at him. Almost inexplicably she found herself furious at both of them. Him for what he'd done, obviously. But why Peggy? Why her?

For dragging me into this, she thought. That's why. she thought. That's why.

For seeing. And then reporting what she'd seen.

Female trouble he thought as he walked into the kitchen. he thought as he walked into the kitchen.