Her blue eyes twinkle as though I’m the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. “Kristopher would never hurt me.”
“I wouldn’t hurt you either,” I promise, though I’m not sure. One can never be too sure of anything.
She seems to believe me, though. “I know.” Her bottom lip gets abused by her teeth as she seems to mull over her words. “I thought you were going to be my husband.”
I gape at her. “Me?”
“Yeah. I’m ready to be a wife.”
“A wife.” All I can do is stare at her. She’s too little to be a wife. How would her tiny body hold a baby inside?
“Hmm.”
“You don’t believe me.” She pouts again. “It’s true.”
“Do you want me to be your husband?”
She giggles. “No, silly. Not now. You’re my cousin.”
I step closer so I can look at her face better. I want to see her plump lips. Maybe I’ll even touch them. I remember my dirty fingers and refrain. She’s wearing a white dress. I don’t want to dirty her up with me.
“Karen!”
She jumps about a foot in the air, squeaking in surprise, before turning around. “Kristopher! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
He stalks over to us, his face that matches hers exactly screwed into an angry scowl. Where she is smiles and light, he’s anger and darkness. Twins. Yin and yang. Two halves of a whole.
“We need to get inside,” he hisses, his glare meant only for me. “Pa will be furious if he finds out we were out here alone with her.”
I frown. “Why?”
“Because she’s a woman,” Kristopher snaps.
It dawns on me he means that my uncle might think we’d fuck her or something. But she’s so little. Like a child even though she’s older than me. I don’t understand why we’d want to have sex with her. She may think she’s ready to be a wife, but physically, I can’t fathom how.
“I’m not going to fuck my cousin,” I bite out, offended that he thinks so lowly of me after just meeting me.
Kristopher’s face burns bright red. “Do what?”
I glance over at Karen and her blue eyes are alive and wild. Cutting my gaze back to his, I cock my head and lift my chin. “You’re sheltered, huh? Probably don’t even know what fucking means.”
Kristopher’s jaw tightens. “We should go.”
“Fucking is when a man and a woman—”
Crack!
I stumble back in shock. My jaw is on fire and Kristopher is shaking out his hand. He hit me. My cousin hit me. Because I was explaining sex.
Karen shoots me an apologetic look before grabbing her brother’s hand and fussing over it. I don’t understand why she’s worried about his hand. It was my face that took the hit. Swallowing down the jealousy that he’s getting attention when I’m the one who got hurt, I let out a huff and follow them as they walk back to the house.
They disappear inside while I stop to grab a few logs. I’m just entering in through the back door when I nearly run over a woman. Her head darts my way.
Cold blue eyes. Pale blond hair. Pink, pillow lips. Lean, taut body.
Mom?
I drop the logs at my feet and they crash loudly. I’m unable to look away from her. She’s just as I remember. Not the last time when we disagreed and everything ended, but one of the times I’d cook my favorite dinner for us—barbeque chicken wings and potato wedges—and she’d smile at me with such unfiltered happiness.
How can this be?
I’m still gaping at her when Uncle Charles walks into the room.
“Linda,” he says coolly. “You’re not to be alone with another male. Ever.”
Linda, not Taylee. Not my mother.
“I, uh,” she stammers in a breathy voice that’s so familiar, my head spins. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“It was my fault,” I rush out, eager to rescue her like I couldn’t rescue my mother. “I ran in here, confused as to where I was supposed to go, and bumped right into her.”
Something akin to pride shines in Charles’s eyes and he nods. “All right then. Let me show you to the bathroom. You need to wash up before supper.”
I follow him from the room, trying not to stare at the woman. She’s an exact replica of my mother. Or, my eyes are playing tricks on me. He takes me down the hallway and shows me two different doors.
“This one is Karen’s,” he says, rapping on the closed door. “You’re never allowed in there. Understood?”
I swallow and nod. “Uh, yes, sir?”
“Was that a question or an answer, boy?”
Eager to please my uncle, I rush out, “Answer. Understood, sir.”
“Good. This will be where you’ll stay. With Kristopher. There are two twin beds in there. You’ll take the vacant one.” His sharp hazel gaze meets mine. “Same rule. Karen is never allowed in here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“If she so much as looks in this room, I want you to tell me.”
“Yes, sir.”
He flashes me the briefest of smiles. Though I want to please him, I can’t ignore the fact that I would disobey him. If she came into my room, I’d keep quiet. I like looking at her. She looks like an angel. When I look at her, it makes me think of Mom. How angelic Mom would look when she’d wear her veil and clutch her rosary beads… Fuck, my heart hurts.
“The bathroom is just across the hall,” he explains, tapping his knuckle on another door.
“What’s upstairs?”
He smacks my cheek hard. I recoil at the action, rubbing at my stinging flesh.
“It’s best you learn now, boy. You’re never allowed upstairs unless I command it.” His lips purse. “When you’ve earned the privilege, then I may allow you up there on occasion.”
Okay…but what’s upstairs?
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask, but I don’t.
“It’s where I share a room with my wife. There are things no unwed young man should see or hear,” he explains in a softer tone. “You’re still very much a boy.”
I want to blurt out that I’ve had sex—albeit wrong in every sense of the word—but I’ve done the deed. Plenty of times. I’m good at it. I fucking like it. I know about the mechanics and the sounds and…the feeling. Shame burns through me and I drop my stare to the floor.
I’ll never tell him.
Ever.
I wasn’t supposed to like it. And a lot of times I didn’t. Most times.
But those other times…
“Yes, sir,” I murmur.
He ruffles my hair with his hand. “Good boy.”
My spine straightens at his praise. It feels good to have a family.
I feel like a new person in Kristopher’s nice clothes. Pressed white button-up shirt. Slacks that hang off my skinny frame. Clean and refreshed. I use the comb by the sink to slick back my black hair. I’d wanted to shave off the dark shadow of hair that’s grown in, but there wasn’t a razor in the bath. The skin under my eyes is dark and my cheeks are hollow, but hope shines in my brown eyes.
A new start.
My uncle is going to love me and take care of me.