Infinite Ties (All That Remains #3) (12 page)

Abby scoffs and grins at Troy. “Airen
brought his own.”

“Your point, darlin’?” I pinch her ass,
and she slaps my arm.

“Stinkbait. Never leave home without it,”
she says, her voice deep as she mocks me, sounding eerily like a commercial
announcer. Everyone laughs, and she blushes when Nic winks at her. She’s
begging for a sore ass.

Abby and Joseph wander off with Diane
while Sammy helps me load the boat. He regards me warily as we row out to the
center of the pond. “We can fish from the boat or the raft,” I offer, pointing
to the wooden raft floating a few feet away.

“I like the boat. Why did you want me to
come?” he blurts.

“To learn to fish.”

“Why do you care if I can fish?” His tone
is accusatory.

“Because everyone should know how to catch
their own food so you don’t have to depend on others.”

“I don’t depend on others.” His scowl
deepens. No matter what I say, all he can hear is criticism as his suspicious
brain ponders why I really invited him.

“We all depend on others sometimes.
There’s nothing wrong with that. Abby’s a better cook than I am, and Joseph’s a
better trapper. My son, Carson’s a great hunter, and I can catch a fish even if
it’s the only one in the pond. We all help each other, and nobody goes hungry.
There’s safety in numbers, Sammy.”

“I’d rather be alone,” he grumbles.
“Nothing’s free. Nobody does shit for you without wanting something.” He
recoils like a skittish puppy when I reach to bait his hook, and I raise my
palms.

“Just wrap it around the hook and push it
through so it doesn’t fall off.” His expression is anxious as he looks at me.
It’s time we cleared something up. “I’m not going to touch you.”

His whole body jerks at my words. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m not into boys. You
don’t have to worry.” One thing I remember clearly is how everyone tiptoed
around talking about the abuse when it was discovered. Whispers of
the
incident
or
what happened to Airen
echoing around me. Relatives looking at me
with pity and asking, “How are you doing?” as if I had some terminal disease.
Sometimes, the direct approach is best.

“Troy’s been fucking talking about me!” he
snaps.

“A little. I don’t know the details, and
I’m not going to ask. It was your life they fucked with. It’s up to you what
you want people to know.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Didn’t think you were,” I reply evenly.

“The hell do you know?” he mumbles,
staring at the water. Christ, if there’s ever anyone who needs to hear, it’s
this furious brooding kid.

“I’m going to tell you something I’ve
never told anyone, not even my wife, so please don’t rat me out.” Raising his
eyebrows, he waits for me to continue. “I was raped when I was ten years old.”
I almost choke on the words I haven’t said aloud for over twenty years.

Sammy fidgets and stares at the bottom of
the boat. “By a man?”

“Yes, and he kept at me for four years
before my parents found out.”

“Did he go to jail?”

“No, he got away with it.”

“Is that why you like guys now?” Fuck,
kid. Way to nail the problem.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Sometimes, I
think it changed me.”

“I don’t want to be gay.” Swallowing, he
looks away from me, struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Do you think you are? Are you attracted
to boys, or are you only worried because of what happened?”

“I’m not attracted to anyone.”

“I’m the wrong person to ask when it comes
to this, Sammy. I struggle with it, too. I wonder if I’d want Joseph if I
wasn’t damaged, and if it’s fair to him to be with someone who is too screwed
up to know what came naturally and what’s a side effect of abuse. I can tell
you no matter who you end up loving, there’s nothing wrong with being gay,
bisexual, or straight. Joseph’s one of the best human beings I’ve ever met.”

A shudder runs through him, and he nods,
chewing his lip. “I don’t know how anyone could want to…what they do…it hurts.
Bad
.”

A lump forms in my throat, but I let my
anger override it. Pity is the last thing he needs. “Not all gay men have sex
that way, and there’s a big difference when it’s consensual. Are you
uncomfortable around Troy and Nic?”

“I was at first, but they have each other.
I don’t think they’d try anything.”

“The guy who raped me had a wife. Most
pedophiles aren’t gay. They’re sick fucking perverts who want to hurt kids.
Gay, bi, straight…doesn’t matter. The man who hurt you…”

“Men,” he whispers, shamefaced.

“Men,” I correct myself, digging my
fingernails into my palms to control my anger. “Did they sleep with each
other?”

After considering it for a moment, he
responds, “No, just the women.”

“You were hurt by straight men just like I
was. I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to be afraid of Nic and
Troy. They care about you, and they want to help. Bad enough to drive through
two states to recruit us to help.”

“Who asked them to?” he snaps.

“Nobody. That’s why you should quit being
a jerk to them. They don’t want anything from you. They care. You deserve it.
Deal with it. The world’s an alligator just waiting to chomp down on your ass
and roll you until you drown. We all need a family to make it through.”

“Do you need a hand down from your soap
box?” His tone lightens, and the corners of his mouth twitch up. Carson would
love this kid.

“Almost, smart ass. Troy’s been through a
lot of shit, too, and he was messed up for awhile. You should talk to him.”

“I’ve seen the scars on his back.”

“Not all scars are visible.”

He nods and his eyes widen as his bobber
dips below the surface. “I got one!”

“You got a nibble. Wait and see if it dips
again. If it does, jerk the line hard to hook him.” Minutes later, he reels in
a good sized large mouth bass. “Hold him still while I pull the hook out.”

“Aw! He’s slimy!”

“You would be too if you lived in a pond.”
The fish slips from his hands and flops around the bottom of the boat. Sammy
grabs at it repeatedly, shrieking and laughing as it dances around our feet.
I’m thrilled to see him act his age. When he gets a good hold on it, I notice
Troy standing at the edge of the pond, watching.

“I got one!” Sammy shouts, holding up his
catch. Troy gives him a thumbs up, and Sammy beams. “What kind is it?” he asks.

“Large mouthed bass. See how these two
fins aren’t connected?” I ask, pointing out the spiny and dorsal fins. “That
means it’s a large mouth. If they’re connected, you have a spotted bass. They
both taste good.”

“I’m going to catch a spotted one next,”
he gushes, and I hide my grin as I toss his catch into the cooler. I
practically have to drag him off the water at dinnertime, but we have a cooler
full of fish. “Can we do this again?” he asks while I show him how to clean the
fish. He’s a bright kid and he learns fast.

“Sure. Troy also likes to fish. I’m sure
he’d like to join you. You know, after we leave.”

“Think so?”

“Yep.”

I’m gathering firewood, trying to hurry
while I still have a little light, when Troy approaches me. “Did you lobotomize
the kid?”

“What?”

“Sammy. He’s playing cards with Nic and
laughing. I’ve never heard him laugh. He asked if I’d go fishing with him.”

“He had fun today.”

“It’s more than that. He took a shower
without asking Diane to stand guard. What did you say to him?”

Shit. “I told him you and Nic are
trustworthy men that wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, Airen,
but why would he believe you? You just met. I’ve tried to get through to him
for weeks. Why does he trust you?”

“I can relate.”

Shock widens his eyes. “Oh, well, thanks
for talking to him.”

“Can I give you some advice?”

Troy nods, and I focus on stacking the
wood as I speak. “Be direct with him. I know you’re trying to spare his
feelings, but the whispers when he leaves the room don’t help. Don’t press him
to talk about it. Let him come to you. When he gives you an opportunity, share
what happened to you if you can. He won’t feel so alone.”

“I will,” he promises.

“Don’t touch him. Don’t hug him. Stick to
high fives and handshakes until he shows he can handle more. Most importantly,
teach him. He feels like a scared kid. Powerless. Learning to fish, hunt,
shoot…whatever, gives him confidence and control, makes him feel like a man.
He’s smart as hell.”

“I’ve noticed. I’ve tried to get him to do
things like that and so has Nic, but he refuses.”

“Because he’s scared you’ll get him alone
and try to fuck him. It’s nothing personal, Troy, just what he’s known. He’ll
come around.”

Troy nods. “I hope so.”

It’s time to change the subject. “Did you
get the ammo?”

“Yeah, we’ll meet you after lunch
tomorrow.”

The sound of Sammy’s laughter makes me
smile as I head for our RV. I wonder if Abby’s in bed yet. I hope she’s not
asleep. I have the sudden desire to pin her to the bed and watch her eyes go
all dreamy when I make her come for me.

Abby’s back is to me when I step through
the door. “How was your day, sweetheart?” Hair fanning in an arc around her,
she spins to face me and I know something’s wrong.

Abby’s wide terrified eyes accost me, her
face contorted with anger and shame. “Where did you get this?” she shrieks,
brandishing a bright purple notebook.

Fuck. Joseph hid that real well. “It was
left on my chair this morning. I assume Jon left it there for us to find.”

“Did you read it?” Her voice is hard as
granite and laced with panic. Joseph enters and steps up behind me, but she
barely registers his presence. “Airen, damn it! Did you read it?” she shouts.

I’m not going to lie to her. “Just the
first couple of pages. When we realized it was a diary, your diary, I put it
away. I was going to talk to you about it.”

Her gaze darts to Joseph. “He said ‘we’.
You…read it too?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, ladybug. We didn’t realize.”
Weighed down with guilt, his voice thick with remorse, he reaches for her, but
she jerks away and darts outside. I’m almost out the door when Joseph grabs my
arm. “Give her a minute. She’s embarrassed.”

“No. She needs to know it doesn’t matter,
that nothing in her past is going to affect our future. Trust me on this one.”

After staring at me for a few seconds, he
nods, and we chase after our girl. “Fuck! Where is she?” he shouts. A sudden
splash draws our attention to the pond where ripples of silver cascade outward
across the surface. If not for the full moon, we’d never have seen her wading
out beside the dock, tearing sheet after sheet from her notebook.

She’s chest deep, surrounded by floating
paper by the time we reach the shore. Kicking off my shoes and shedding my
shirt, I plunge into the cold water. Alerted by the splash, she turns and
screams, “Get Away!” Her body quakes with deep heart breaking sobs and she
takes a few more steps forward until the ground disappears beneath her,
dropping her into the black water.

“Abby!” My spine turns to ice and my
stomach churns as I make my way to the spot she went under. Vaguely, I hear
splashing behind me as Joseph rushes in. “Abby!” I scream again before ducking
below the surface. I can’t see a goddamn thing! Water strains through my
fingers as I sweep the area, feeling for her. Seconds later she pops up a few
feet away, coughing and crying hysterically, still clutching the notebook. My
heart starts beating again and I grab her around the waist, tugging her back
until her feet can touch the bottom.

She barely acknowledges me in her
obsession over the notebook. It’s soaked through and the old paper dissolves
rapidly as she shreds it, sobbing, turning her pain to pulp and burying it in
the cold water of a small Missouri pond.

“Let her finish,” I tell Joseph when he
urges her toward the shore. We stand in the waist deep water until the last
page turns to mush. Abby offers only a token resistance when I press my hand
against the small of her back to lead her out of the water. “It’s gone,
sweetheart. Let’s get you dry.” Her sobs have subsided, leaving only an
occasional hitch in her breathing. She hisses when her bare feet hit the gravel
driveway.

“I got you, baby,” Joseph murmurs, picking
her up and cradling her against his chest. She doesn’t say a word as he carries
her to our RV, dries her hair, and strips off her wet clothes. After pulling on
a pair of panties and one of my t-shirts, she crawls into bed. Joseph spoons up
behind her, and she rests her head on my chest.

“We need to talk about this, ladybug.”

Rolling to her back, she stares at the
ceiling, her voice a defeated whisper. “You weren’t supposed to see, to know
how crazy I was.”