Credence Page 12
Kaleb’s black hair against his sun-kissed face.
Jake’s toned shoulders and narrow waist.
The veins in Noah’s forearms and…
I straighten, swallow, and turn around, quickly leaving the room.
I need to get out of here.
I hit the gas and pull the truck up the driveway until I reach the top of the incline, feeling the gravel kick up under me. Turning off the engine, I take the work gloves off the passenger-side seat and hop out of the truck, heading for the bed as I pull them on.
“You find your way okay?” Jake approaches, dropping the tailgate for me.
I nod.
“The guys were helpful?”
“Yes.”
We both hop up into the bed to start unloading the hay.
After breakfast, he’d asked me to take the truck to town to pick up some bales of hay, and I happily agreed once I learned I could go on my own. Some air. Some space. It was just as good as a hike, and hey, I got to go to my first Tack & Feed store. Thankfully, it sported no racks with tabloids for sale, so I was able to avoid news from home.
Music and laughter come from the garage, and I look over, seeing a group of motorbikes parked off to the side. Must be the friends Noah was talking about when he said he was taking the bike out today.
A couple of women hang out nearby as others talk in the garage, and I watch them in their jeans and summer tops, laughing and smiling. How much longer will the weather be nice enough to ride? Seems like fun.
Jake and I unload the hay, gripping the wires and hauling each bale over to the stable. One of the girls smiles as I pass.
None of them wear make-up, no fancy manicures, and no stylish clothes, but they don’t need it. They’re pretty, dressed to play, and for a moment, I want to be one of them.
I carry a bale into the barn, walking it down to a stall. Is Kaleb going with them?
How does he get along with friends without speaking? Does he have friends? I mean, if he’s like that as a mute, can you imagine what would come out of his mouth if he spoke?
I shake my head. Curiosity swirls in my mind over what happened to him at the age of four that made him stop talking, but I push the thought away. We’ve all got problems.
“I want to hear you,” someone pants.
I slow as I hit the stall.
“Show me what you want me to do,” she whispers.
I almost drop the hay.
Her voice is barely audible, so soft like she’s hanging on by a thread.
I set the hay down, taking a step back. It could be anyone. There’s lots of people here right now, and I don’t want to be embarrassed. Slowly, I retreat.
But then I hear a grunt, a shuffle of hay, and a small cry. I halt.
“I’m gonna make you moan,” she tells him. “You’re gonna like it that much.”
I don’t know why, but I take a soft step forward. Following the sounds to the far stall at the end of the stable, I get to the door with the top half partially open and listen closely again.
“Come on…” she moans.
I hold my breath and peer through the crack in the door. Skin and hands fill my view as he threads his fingers through her long black hair, and she kneels between his legs and sucks his…
I look away for a second, heat rising to my cheeks.
But her soft little whimpers draw my attention again.
Her head moves up and down on him, her hands running up his jean-clad thighs and gripping his belt, pulling his pants down more, so that I see his hips and the curve of his ass.
I can’t see her face, and I can’t see what she’s doing to him, but I know.
I slide my eyes up—taking in his muscles, skin, shiny with sweat again, and before I get to his face, I know who it is.
Kaleb has his head tilted back, his eyes closed, and breathes hard as he grips her hair, forcing her up and down on his cock. The muscles in his forearms flex, and his hair damn near hangs in his eyes, but I watch his face, the woman forgotten. Sweat dampens the ends of his hair, sticking to his skin, and his lips tighten periodically, because he…
He likes it. I hear her moan, even with him in her mouth, and he pulls her down on him again and again as his eyebrows pinch together.
And then his eyes open.
His head tilts forward again, and his gaze pins me through the crack like he knew I was here the whole time.
Shit.
I stop breathing again. My body tenses, and shame burns my skin, but he starts moving faster, pumping himself into her mouth now as his eyes burn a hole right through me.
My mouth opens, because it’s the only thing that will move. I don’t even see her anymore as he leans forward into her, one hand still in her hair and one hand holding a sideboard as he fucks her mouth. His hips pump faster and faster, his eyes suddenly piercing like they did last night when he pushed me into the wall and… smelled me.
A drop of sweat falls down my stomach under my flannel, and I almost find myself starting to move with him, entranced.
I lean into the door, soaking up the only few centimeters closer I can get.
She groans, he and I stare at each other, and all I see is how he would’ve moved with me last night.
If I hadn’t stopped him.
But then a moan escapes, and I don’t realize it came from me until I see the corner of his mouth curl into a smile. I suck in a breath, finally realizing what the hell I’m doing.
Fuck. I turn away, putting my hand over my mouth and squeezing my eyes shut.
Shit.
Behind me, I hear him grunt under his breath, and then hiss, fast, heavy breathing pouring in and out of his lungs as I lean against the stall, listening to him come.
I shudder, she whimpers, and I run, out of the stable and into the late morning air.
Why did I do that? What the hell was I doing?
A light layer of sweat covers my back, and I wish I had a tank top on under this so I could pull off the long-sleeved shirt.
He’s vile. Jake was right. He and Noah are nothing compared to that.
And I’ll bet he enjoys himself, too, reaping all the benefits of playing the mysterious, tortured soul who doesn’t speak, but it’s just so alluring and sweet, because women want to save him.
I don’t care what happened to him when he was four.
And I did nothing wrong. I heard a cry. I went to look. Shock prevented me from moving once I saw what it was. That’s it.
I pull Noah’s baseball cap off and turn it around, the bill shielding me from the sun as I head back to the truck where Jake is sweeping out the bed.
“Hey, Tiernan!” I hear Noah call.
I tense, wondering if he saw me watching his brother. Turning around, I see everyone loading onto their bikes, the two girls I saw earlier climbing onto their own, and Noah smiling from his.
I raise my eyebrows.
“You want to come with us?” he asks.
I look behind him, recognizing the guy from town yesterday.
Terrance. The one he apparently doesn’t like, but I guess they travel in the same circles, and it’s a small town, so... He pulls on his helmet, a smile in his eyes as he watches me.
I glance at Jake for a way out.
He jumps down from the bed, jerking his chin at me. “I have to make a run to town anyway. Go ahead,” he tells me. “Have fun, but stay with Noah.”
My stomach sinks. I don’t like being around people I don’t know. I don’t like being around people.
When I turn back around, though, I see Kaleb strolling out of the stables, pulling his shirt on, and the girl he had in the stall following him.
The girl from the store yesterday. The one who tried to get in my face.
I stare at her—tight jeans, loose green tank top, long black hair—and a brick sits in my stomach.
“Come on.” Noah holds a helmet out to me. “Ride with me.”
And for some reason, I kind of want to now. My feet move without thinking.
But as soon as I stop at Noah’s bike, turn my cap around, and reach for the helmet, another hand shoots out and pulls it away before I can get to it.
I look up, seeing Kaleb. He only hesitates a moment, glaring down at me, before tossing the helmet to the ground and away from me. Taking my arm, he pulls me away from the bikes, and I stumble and straighten just in time as he walks into me, forcing me backward.
My heart hammers in my chest as he stares down at me, and then he jerks his chin toward the house. He doesn’t have to say a word for me to know he’s ordering me inside.
Away from them. Away from him.
“Kaleb,” I hear Noah chide.
But snickers and snorts break out around the group, and despite the twinge of anger I feel, my eyes start to burn.
Away. He looks down at me, jerking his chin again. Away.
You’re not going.
Jake stands in the truck bed, suddenly aware something is going on, and I clench my jaw to fight the tears. Suddenly, I want nothing more than to be away. Where I can’t be seen or looked at or detested.
“No, it’s fine,” I say quietly to Noah, choking on the tears in my throat.
And I back away, turning for the house.
“Tiernan,” Jake calls.
But I cut him off. “I didn’t want to go anyway,” I tell him, my eyes watering. “Sounds boring.”
And I jog up the stairs and walk into the house, hearing the engines rev, and after a moment, the high-pitched whir of them speeding away.
I head for the staircase, but I halt in the middle of the living room, realizing there’s nothing up there for me either. Another closed door. Another place to hide. Another room to pass the time until…
I drop my eyes, needles prickling the back of my throat.
Until I don’t have to worry about being seen.
My chin trembles, and a tear falls. I swipe it away.
I don’t want to think, because then I’ll be fucking alone, and that’s all I ever am.
The truck fires up outside, and I close my eyes, thinking I should be relieved my uncle is leaving, too. I should be thankful he didn’t come in after me. Neither one of us is the heart-to-heart kind, are we?
He’s giving me space.
But he just leaves, the sound of his engine disappearing down the road, and I stand there for less than a minute before setting off upstairs and opening my bedroom door.
I bypass my suitcase, still laying empty on the floor, and grab my backpack, double-checking my little First Aid kit is inside and take my sunscreen, stuffing it in the front pocket. Pulling my phone off the charger, I leave the room and head downstairs, filling up a water bottle and packing a few snacks.
I walk toward the front door, but then I stop, remembering.
Protection.
I head back through the kitchen and open the door to the garage, stepping down the few stairs and gazing at the row of rifles on the rack.
I wish I didn’t have to carry one. I’d look like an idiot—or a terrorist—walking down Ventura with a firearm slung over my shoulder. But my uncle is right. This isn’t the city. I could run into trouble.
I chew my lips, no idea what I’m really looking at. I don’t know about preciseness or ease of use, so I just grab the one I know how to use and open the drawer underneath, finding the bullets. Loading the weapon, I swing the strap of the rifle over my shoulder.
Quickly, I sift through my uncle’s tools, finding a flashlight, and then grab a clean towel off the basket on top of the dryer. I put everything in my pack, zip it up, and pull it on, ready to go.
Stepping out of the shop and around the house, I head for the woods, climbing the steep incline Jake took me through on the horse the other day. I think I remember the way. It’s a straight shot up and around some rocks, and then I continue on, going deeper into the trees. There should be a worn path… I would think.
I should text my uncle and let him know where I’m going.
But instead, I keep my phone tucked away in my pocket.
Reaching the top of the hill, I follow the dirt path around some boulders, keeping my eyes open and my ears trained, but after a few minutes, the headache that always seems to be aching around the back of my head fades away, and I inhale deep breaths, smelling the needles of the evergreens and the wet earth under my shoes.
Maybe I should turn back and put on Noah’s old boots he loaned me yesterday, but I can’t care that my sneakers have zero traction right now. My stomach is unknotting, and all I can hear is the creaking of the trees and the water coming from somewhere.
After a while, I’m not even paying attention to my surroundings anymore. I follow the trail I’m not sure is an actual trail, but it winds through the trees, guiding me deeper into the quiet and the solitude, and I peer through to see if I can make out the peak in the distance. But it’s too thick.
I take off Noah’s hat and shake out my locks, the breeze feeling good on my scalp and the wind clearing my head. I close my eyes.
But suddenly, I hear a rock fall behind me, bouncing off a boulder or something, and I jerk around, scanning the woods I just walked through.
The pulse in my neck throbs as the sunlight streams through the trees to the forest floor, and I train my eyes, trying to see around trunks and rocks. I reach to my side, clutching the butt of the rifle.
If it’s an animal, I won’t see it until it wants me to. I swallow, trying to catch sight of anything.
But there’s nothing.
No movement.
I remain still for a few more moments, making sure nothing is there and turn around, occasionally looking over my shoulder and keeping my eyes open just in case. It’s probably nothing. Trees fall, rocks spill, animals scurry…
I reach the top of another steep incline, the land leveling out, and look at the trail ahead, trying to remember how much farther it is.
But then I look left, doing a double-take, and see it.
I smile. Like actually smile.
I head for the pond Jake and I passed the other day, relieved I didn’t get lost. I climb down the rocks and come to the little beach and look out at the rock walls surrounding the water. Lush foliage hugs the sides, trees tower overhead, but there’s enough sunlight getting through to shimmer across the still water.
It’s empty. No people, no noise, and the warmth of the sun feels good.
I debate for a moment if I should strip, glancing around as if someone may be watching, but I decide to keep my clothes on. Or most of them.
I set the rifle down and drop my pack before unbuttoning Noah’s shirt. Wearing a sports bra underneath, I pull off his shirt and drop it to the ground with my hat, starting my Spotify playlist on my phone and setting it down before walking into the water with my sneakers on. I’ll get dry on the walk back. I’d rather not be in my underwear if anyone shows up. Or shoeless if an animal does.
I wade out and then shoot off, “Look Back at It” playing as I swim out to the middle of the small pond. Another smile I can’t hold back spreads across my face.
This feels good. The cool water sends chills over my body, giving me a sudden burst of energy, and I dive down and then come back up, my hair now soaked and slicked back.
Lying back, I float, the weightlessness and water in my ears making me feel alone.
But not lonely for once.
I glide my fingers under the water, my hair floating around me, and I smile again, because it’s the first time since I’ve been here that the world feels like a big place. It helps to get outside. To get lost a little.
I always forgot that.
A faint rumble hits my ears, and I lift my head up, treading water as I see a dirt bike pull up to the beach.
My face falls and my body tenses. Who is that?
He takes off his helmet, a dark blond head coming into view as his hair sticks up, kind of all messy-sexy, and it takes me less than a second
to recognize Terrance Holcomb. Whom I’ve yet to actually meet.
“Hey,” he calls out, climbing off his bike.
I don’t respond. What is he doing here? I look and listen. Are they all coming?
He heads for the water, pulling off his boots and socks, and I realize he’s coming in. Keeping his jeans on, he walks into the pond, pulling off his shirt and tossing it back to the rocks.
He reaches down and scoops up some water, splashing it on his face, running it over his hair and down the back of his neck, and wetting his chest.
Loooooove the tribal tattoos. Wonder which tribe he belongs to. I almost snort.
He tips his chin at me. “How’s the water out there?”
“Cold.”
He dives in, submerging completely and heading straight for me. He pops up, splashing and smoothing his hair back, grinning.
I start moving off to the side so I can swim around him and get out.
“Relax,” he tells me. “Not everything with a penis is a threat.”
“Which is exactly what someone with a penis would say.”
“You’re Tiernan, right?” he says. And then cocks his head. “Terrance Holcomb.”
I pause, treading water. “I thought you all went to ride bikes.”
He smiles. “They went to ride. I snuck off.”
“You followed me.”
He must’ve overheard me say I wanted to go for a hike when we were all back at the house and guessed I’d wind up here? I start swimming for the shore.
“If you go,” he says, “I don’t know if I’ll be able to get you alone again.” I turn my head, looking at him. “They’re very protective of their property.”
I stop and face him, my feet touching the ground now. “I’m not their property.”
“Everything on their property is their property.” He circles me, the water coming up to both our shoulders. “They live by different rules up here, Tiernan.”
As much as I’d like to argue with him, I think Jake, Noah, and Kaleb would agree with him. Jake’s warning about local guys. Kaleb sending me back in the house instead of letting me join them on the motorcycles. Noah and his possessiveness in town yesterday.