Keepers of the Cave (26 page)

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Authors: Gerri Hill

BOOK: Keepers of the Cave
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“I was ten when it started.” Paige gasped and her fingers stilled. CJ turned to look at her. “My sister was two years older than me,” she said. “She tried to stop him.”

Paige stared into her eyes. “
Ten
? My God. What about...what about your mother? Was she there? Did she know?”

CJ nodded. “She knew. I think she was thankful he was leaving her alone.” She leaned toward Paige, wiping at a tear that formed. “Don’t cry for me, Paige. It’s too late for that.”

Paige cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “You know what I’m in the mood for? A bottle of wine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. In here. In bed. With you.” Paige touched her face lightly, rubbing a finger across her lips. “I want to know your story. I want to know what makes you who you are. Will you tell me?”

“It’s not a pretty story,” CJ warned.

“No. I wouldn’t think that it would be.” She paused. “If you don’t want to tell me, I’ll understand.”

CJ very nearly said just that. That was a part of her life that she rarely thought about anymore. But Paige was right. It was what made her who she was. Did she want to share that with Paige?

“Okay. I’ll tell you my story.”

Paige smiled reassuringly at her, then crawled from the bed, grabbing her discarded shorts and shirt and walking naked into the bathroom. CJ’s gaze followed her movements, taking in the soft curves and smooth skin with a contented sigh. Her whole adult life had been spent in solitude, bouncing from bed to bed, woman to woman. Meaningless. It was all she thought she could offer anyone. The desire to share more just wasn’t there.

Why then was she finding herself loving this domestic bliss with Paige? She almost wished this assignment would drag on for a while longer. Once it was over, they would return to Houston...and their lives. Surprisingly, that wasn’t something she was ready to think about.

When Paige left the bathroom, CJ took her turn. She found Paige back in the bed, leaning against the pillows. A T-shirt covered her this time, although—without a bra—CJ’s eyes were drawn to her breasts and the nipples were outlined perfectly. Paige smiled.

“Easy, tiger.” She patted the bed beside her. “Come.”

CJ arched an eyebrow. “Again?”

Paige laughed, a laugh that had her eyes dancing in merriment. “How about we talk first?” she said, holding out a glass of wine for CJ.

CJ nodded, the levity leaving as their eyes met. There was nothing cheerful about the story she was about to tell. She leaned back next to Paige, taking the glass and holding it lightly between her fingers. She’d never been a wine drinker. She never really gave wine much thought before. Paige, however, was well versed and knew which wine was appropriate for which occasion. Like now, sitting in bed, CJ about to tell her the horrors of her childhood. A dark red wine for the occasion. CJ wouldn’t even pretend to know what kind. She took a sip, then another. Paige waited quietly beside her.

“My sister and I shared a bedroom,” she said. “Cathy was two years older than me.” She shrugged. “I never knew that he used to visit her during the night.” She gave a half-smile. “That’s the word we used.
Visit
. Anyway, his temper was legendary. My mother, well, she took her share of beatings. He’d come home late, smelling of bourbon, and complain that dinner wasn’t on the table.” CJ glanced at her. “Of course, we’d all eaten earlier, at the normal time. She always had a plate for him. Sometimes that was good enough. Most times. Other times, he’d throw the plate against the wall and smack her around a few times for not being a good wife. He’d make her cook something for him again.”

“Where would you be?”

“Oh, hell, we were hiding, hoping he wouldn’t see us. I think he sometimes forgot we were there. If he was in one of his moods and beating the crap out of her, if he’d see us, we’d get it too.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Paige whispered.

“It was just what I lived with. Until that first time he came into my bed. I had no idea what was going on. We had twin beds in there, and Cathy jumped out of her bed and started hitting on him, telling him to leave me alone. I was scared to death, and he threw her across the room like she was a ragdoll.” CJ paused, the memory of that night fuzzy. She could see Cathy coming to her defense, could remember the sound of her small body hitting the wall, could see Cathy falling. She remembered her father pulling her panties off. Other than that, she only remembered the pain...and the shame. She shook her head, clearing it. “Anyway, after that, whenever he would come into our room, it was like, you prayed it wasn’t you who he picked for that night, yet you almost wished it was.” She swallowed and took a deep breath. “Listening to him as he raped Cathy was worse than if he was doing it to me.”

Paige’s hand rubbed up and down her thigh, her head resting lightly against CJ’s shoulder. She could only imagine the thoughts going through Paige’s mind. She turned, seeing the glistening of tears in Paige’s eyes. “Do you want me to stop?”

Paige shook her head and squeezed her thigh. “I want to know,” she whispered.

CJ nodded, intending to tell her everything.

“That went on for the next three years, until Cathy got pregnant. She was fifteen then.”

“Jesus,” Paige murmured.

“My mother didn’t even know. Cathy made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone. But then she was starting to show and we had to do something. She told me she would take care of it. So one morning, we’re getting ready for school and she starts an argument with him. I don’t even remember what it was. He slapped her, which was his warning to shut up. But she didn’t. She kept provoking him. I was hiding in our room, watching through the crack in the door. Our mother was in the kitchen, cooking breakfast like nothing was going on. Anyway, he hit her pretty good, busted her lip. And like usual after a beating, our mother would get out the makeup to hide the bruises. This morning was different. When we walked to school, we ducked into a convenience store and Cathy washed her face, washed all the makeup off.” CJ glanced at Paige. “There was a perfect imprint of his hand on her cheek.”

“Cathy was hoping someone would find out?”

“Yeah. She was in high school. I was still in middle school. When we got to my school, she told me that the truth would come out that day. She said, ‘When they come and get you and ask you questions, you tell the truth.’” CJ took a deep breath. “I was scared. I was scared of what he would do to us, you know.”

“And did they come?”

CJ nodded. “Cathy told her school counselor everything.” CJ glanced at her. “Everything. So when I got called out, there was a female police officer there. At first, I thought, crap, now we’re really in trouble,” she said, smiling. She had been so naïve back then. Not innocent, no. But she remembered her fear back then, fear that the police would just take her home to her father.

“But you told them?”

“Yes. I remember how shocked everyone was, how appalled.” She turned to Paige. “That was our life. That was what we dealt with daily. It was no longer a shock to us. It was just the way our life was.”

Paige took the forgotten wineglass from her, drinking what CJ had not. CJ saw that Paige’s hands were trembling. She wondered what she thought about it all. Was she disgusted? Sure. Would she pull away from her like their friends had back then? Like they were lepers? Like they were diseased?

Paige linked their hands together, bringing them up to kiss CJ’s knuckles. She let out a heavy breath. “What happened then?”

CJ stared at their linked hands, glad for contact. She squeezed Paige’s fingers a little tighter before continuing.

“They took me up to the high school and they called our mother. She...she denied everything, said we were just making it all up, just wanting attention.” CJ paused, remembering the defiance in Cathy’s face as she stood, lifting up her shirt and pointing to her belly.
Am I making this up?
She smiled at the memory. Her mother had been shocked speechless.

“Why would she deny it? Wouldn’t this have been her chance to get away from him?”

“She was scared. She was scared of the beating she would have to take when he found out.” She leaned back against the pillows, not releasing Paige’s hand. “Long story short, they took us to a shelter, me and Cathy. Our mother was as guilty as our father.”

“Prison?”

“Eventually, yeah. The bastard got twenty years. She served eight.”

“Have you seen her?”

“Once. She found me when she got out. I was just starting the academy. Houston Police Department, not FBI,” she said to Paige’s silent question. “I told her not to ever contact me again. I didn’t want anything to do with her.” She shrugged. “And she hasn’t.”

“What about your sister?”

CJ closed her eyes for a moment, picturing Cathy’s face. “We went to live with my aunt. She was the complete opposite of our mother. Nice home, good job. She was divorced and had no kids. She took us in and gave us someplace stable to live. But Cathy...Cathy couldn’t do it.” She looked at Paige then. “The pregnancy, I mean. She committed suicide.”

“Oh, God, sweetie. I’m so sorry,” Paige whispered, her fingers tightening around CJ’s hand.

“She left a note for me. It was short, to the point. Very candid,” she said. She didn’t mention that she still had the note, that she still read it sometimes. She swallowed, the words coming with difficulty as she recited them. ‘I love you, CJ. Don’t ever forget that. You make something good out of your life. Help kids. Kids like us. But I can’t do this. I can’t bring a child into the world, not one that was fathered by that monster. I won’t do it.’” She met Paige’s eyes, just a hint of tears in them. “That’s it. That was the note. She climbed a tree and hung herself,” she said simply.

“Oh, baby, did you find her?”

CJ shook her head. “No. My aunt did. I had already read the note. I knew.”

Paige reached out, brushing her fingers gently across CJ’s forehead, brushing the hair away from her face. “All that, that’s why when it’s kids, it affects you so?”

CJ nodded. “At first, her note threw me. I mean,
we
were fathered by that monster. But I didn’t blame her. I tried to do what she said. I thought maybe I’d be a school counselor, like the one that helped us. Or maybe a social worker or something.” She smiled. “I found out college wasn’t my thing. I got an associate’s degree, but the prospect of finishing was too daunting. I got accepted into the academy so I dropped out of school.” She was nearly embarrassed by that fact, knowing Paige had not only finished but had gone on to law school as well.

“College is not for everyone,” Paige said. “You grew into a wonderful person, CJ. Your sister would be proud, don’t you think?”

“I think...yeah, maybe,” she said.

Paige leaned closer, kissing her lightly. “Do you see your aunt still?”

CJ nodded. “Not as much as I should, but yeah, we talk. She’s married now. I usually swing by there at Thanksgiving and have dinner with them.” She rested against Paige, letting Paige hold her as they settled back against the pillows again. She closed her eyes, Paige’s soft fingers running back and forth against her skin lulling her into a relaxed state, her mind freeing itself of those long-ago images. The vulnerability she normally felt when recalling that time in her life was gone now. Whether it was the fact that she was older—and wiser—or simply that she now accepted it, she didn’t know. Whatever it was, she felt at peace with it all.

She opened her eyes, finding Paige watching her. There was no sign of judgment, no disgust or revulsion. Just a hint of sadness, nothing more. She stopped the hand that was still moving lazily along her arm, bringing it to her mouth and kissing it gently.

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

 

Fiona sat in her recliner, reading. It was her lone form of entertainment as Mother Hogan had forbidden TV. Most of the others, they’d never even seen a television. Of the remaining flock, only she, Don and Gretchen had been outside. She didn’t know about Don and Gretchen, but she’d been fascinated with the TV when she was in college. Whatever reason Mother Hogan used for the ban on TVs, Fiona knew the real purpose. Having TVs would expose the flock to the outside world, would influence them. It would subject them to
ideas
that most of those who lived in Hoganville wouldn’t have a clue about, considering how sheltered—and controlled—Mother Hogan had kept them. As it was, there were no prospects for any of the others to go outside. Fiona was the youngest that remained. All those younger than her had been culled for various reasons.

 Disobedience.

Yes, something she had never been accused of. She looked at her book fondly, knowing Mother Hogan had no idea how many of them she had devoured over the years. She was a frequent visitor to the school’s library. Her only fear was that Gretchen would discover her passion for reading and would report it to Mother Hogan. So far, she’d been able to chase her faraway dreams, living through the characters in her books, letting herself slip away from the hellish existence that she’d had thus far. Yet it was a reality that she’d come to accept. Especially now, she thought, as she dared to touch her abnormally large belly. Oh, but she wished she hadn’t accepted it. The events of the past month made her realize how much she really wanted out. The choices she’d made, the few choices that she actually did have, she wished she could redo. If she were stronger, she would have run away years ago. If she had only dared, she could have escaped when she was away at college. She sighed. Yes, if she had only dared. But the fear Mother Hogan had instilled in her was still strong then. And now, of course, it was far too late for that anyway.

A quick, quiet knock on the kitchen door brought her out of her musings. She tilted her head, listening, and the knock sounded again. She frowned, wondering who would be at her back door. Not Paige. She would use the front. Maybe Belden, but he wouldn’t bother knocking. She opened the door, surprised to find Don there. When he hadn’t shown up the night before, she’d assumed he’d changed his mind. She wouldn’t have blamed him.

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