The Dark Light of Day (21 page)

The lights from the construction on the bridge hummed in the distance, the generator running them sounded like it was powering
up for lift-off, drowning out the sound of the river crashing gently against the seawall. In the distance I heard the waves of music and laughter as people went in and out of the ever-revolving door at
Bubba’s Bar.

I thought about Nan as I walked, up in whatever heaven may or
may not have existed for her. I hoped it was the one she whole-heartedly believed in, and convinced myself that in some way she was the one who’d sent Jake to me. She would have liked him so much, regardless of his flaws—and maybe even because of them. I imagined if she were still alive she would demand I bring him home to meet her properly. She would probably make him dinner,
insisting he take a second helping of her famous mustard greens potato salad and forcing him to take all the leftovers home. She seemed to believe that no one in town ate unless she fed them. I chuckled aloud thinking about Jake trying to answer the barrage of questions Nan would’ve surely had for him. We would leave out the part about him being a contract killer.

I don’t think that would go over big.

I could taste the salt in the air on my tongue as I walked across the bridge, swinging my arms and whistling.

Whistling?

Who was this girl?

I knew one thing: the new me was almost happy... and that was okay with her. For once, I wasn’t going to stand in my own way.

Once I was clear of the blinding lights hanging from the
construction
cranes, I relaxed under the comfort of the thousands of stars occupying the sky, reminding me of a thousand winking eyes. The moon hovered like an old friend wanting to know the news of the
day.

I knew for sure Nan was up there watching me, rooting for me to have the life I never thought I could. I was so close. In less than a month, Jake would be back and a new chapter would officially start
for both of us. Together. I was going to go with him. I could be
normal with him. I could have a life with him. As soon as he got back, we would start planning where we would go first. I was thinking New Orleans, but New York was on the list, too. I’d never been anywhere besides Georgia and Florida.

My life finally had possibility.

I was grateful for the first time since Nan took me in. “Thank
you, Nan,” I whispered, hoping my message would reach her somehow. The very first happy tear I’ve ever cried in my almost eighteen years on this earth slid down my cheek.

“Nan don’t need no thanks from a fucking whore.” A deep, slow, slurred voice growled from somewhere in the dark, startling
me.

“Where are you?” I asked. “
Who
are you?” My heart thumped
out an uneven warning like Morse code.

“Aw, baby.” Owen stepped out from the shadows under the overhang of the bait shack and into the moonlight. “What’s the
matter? You don’t recognize my voice no more? Tsk tsk tsk. Now, that hurts my feelings.” He took a swig from an almost-empty glass bottle, wiping the dark brown dribble from his chin with the backside of his grease-stained hand.

“What the hell do you want, Owen?” I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to push out the little voice in the back of my head telling me I should freak the fuck out.

He motioned his bottle to my exposed arms. “Looky here.
Someone decided to come out of hiding. It’s about time you showed off those fat tits.” I remained silent. I didn’t want to make more trouble with him. I just needed to get the fuck away.

“What do you think your Nan would say if she knew you’d taken up with a junkyard dog like Jake Dunn? You really think she’d
be proud of you for fucking that loser?” Owen took another slow menacing step toward me. “You lied to me.” There was an edge to his voice I’d never heard before. His white tank top was stained
brown and red with what I could only guess was a mixture of bait and fish guts. Even from a few feet away, I could smell the liquor wafting off him.

“How the fuck did I lie to you, Owen?” I asked, trying not to
show my growing unease. I started to walk casually toward the storage unit door next to the bait shop. My plan was to run in and lock it behind me as quickly as possible. I could hear Owen’s footsteps on the gravel quicken as I tried to pass him.

He closed the gap between us.

“Yes—LIED! Look it up!” he yelled, furious. “You told me you weren’t fucking
no one,
weren’t wanting
no one
. Truth was, you just didn’t want to fuck
m
e!”

I’d never heard him talk with this much hatred and pain behind his words.

He drained the bottle and slammed it against the seawall rocks lining the road. The glass exploded like fireworks. He let out a laugh like a machine gun. “I thought you were different, but you ain’t no different then all the other sluts in this fucking town, are you?” A cruel smile hung on his lips. His eyelids were puffy; thin, red veins swam in the whites of his eyes.

“Owen, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Get your
drunk ass home.” I tried to play it off, walking faster toward the door of the unit. The handle was just steps away from my grasp.

“Now Abby, why would I go home to my empty bed when I’ve
got you right here?” He caught up to me and grabbed me by the
back of my tank top, spinning me around to look him in the face, my ankle twisting on the unevenness of the road, sending a shock of pain up my leg. I regained my balance and took a step back, but Owen held on. “Especially since you’re game now,” he added. The venom in his voice more potent than any rattler.

“Owen, stop! I have to go. This ain’t funny!” I tried to turn back around, but his hands shot out and caught me by the shoulders. The burning I hadn’t felt in over a week was back in an instant. My entire
arm was engulfed in flames. His grip was tight, unclipped
fingernails dug into my flesh. The stench of rotten fish and whiskey made my stomach turn.

Owen glared into my eyes, talking between gritted teeth and
spraying saliva on me as he spoke. “So let me get this right, you have time to fuck Jake Dunn, who you ain’t known but for a minute, but
you ain’t got no time for your dear friend, Owen?” An involuntary
gasp shot out of my mouth like the blast from an air gun. He breathed in
my ear, his grip tightened, I was sure he was drawing blood. He
pulled me closer, running the back of his dirty index finger down the side of my face, leaving an icy chill on my cheek. I recoiled from his touch. “You know, I saw you two tonight.”

“Owen, stop. You’re scaring me.” I struggled to free myself.

“Oh no, you don’t, Miss Abby,” he seethed. “Not this time.” The dip he had tucked into his lower lip sprayed out of his mouth with the emphasis of each of his words, chunks of it sliding down his lip
to his chin. Owen crushed his cold, wet, tobacco spit covered lips
over my mouth. My face ignited at the sensation. I managed to get an arm free, and as soon as I did, I cocked it back, and slammed my fist straight into his jaw.

Owen’s head snapped to the side. He dropped me and rubbed his face, which was already red from the blow. I turned and bolted,
but in no more than three steps, he’d caught me again, pulling me
into
him with one hard muscled arm and crushing us together, chest on chest. I felt his erection through his jeans, pushing against my
stomach. He might as well have doused me in gasoline and set me on fire. But, I wasn’t about to let the unwanted heat weaken my resolve to fight
him off. I tried to kick at him, aiming for the very area of my
concern.
He laughed at the attempt. “Fucking stop it, Owen!” I screamed.
“Get off of me, you
asshole!
”

This wasn’t just Owen teasing me. This was Owen taking what he wanted. I was just an outlet for his anger. The object of his
revenge.

I had to get out of there.

“Now now, Abby. You know I like it when you struggle a little. It isn’t fair that little bitch Jake gets to have all the fun, now is it?”
Owen trailed his tongue over my earlobe, his hot breath almost making me wretch. I stretched my neck aside, pulling away as much as I could. I screamed until he covered my mouth with one large filthy hand and began to pull me backward into the dark. I pressed my feet down into the dirt, trying to hold my ground.

Where was he trying to take me?

With his hand still over my mouth, he hoisted me up with his forearm under my breasts, dragging me over the jagged rocks of the seawall. I lost one boot, then the other. My knife was securely tucked in the last one. Still, I refused to let up on my struggle.

The rocks sliced painful cuts on the soles of my feet. With my arms locked to my sides, I tried to use my elbows to dig into his ribs. It did nothing more than annoy him. He was too big, too powerful.
He just turned and lifted me, carrying me like a suitcase tucked
under his arm. His other hand never left my mouth.

My heart raced. Every vein inside me throbbed in panic.

Jake! I need you!
Was my primary thought.

I did the only other thing I could think of, I bit down as hard as I could, digging my teeth all the way into the flesh of Owen’s hand. His blood instantly flooded my mouth, tasting of liquor and copper.

“
Motherfucker!
” he shouted. But, he never loosened his grip, and he never missed a step.

Hot tears streamed down my face.

“You think that’s going to change anything?” He spoke with a playful tone piled on top of his menacing laugh. I knew now that this
was just a game to him, with rules I didn’t have any hope of understanding.

I screamed into his hand, blowing his blood into my nose,
breathing it into my lungs. I coughed and choked but didn’t stop the onslaught of teeth into skin. I bit into him again, only this time he released me. I spun around, trying to gain some footing on the uneven sand only to be met with the wrecking ball of his fist smashing into my right
cheek. It crunched under the pressure of the blow, spraying the
blood
from his hand all over my face. It was like nothing I’d ever felt
before, like my head had exploded. My entire body vibrated as my legs collapsed under me and I fell onto the beach.

“Fuck, Abby. Look at what you made me do!” Owen scolded me like I was a child who’d knocked over my dinner plate at the table. “If you’d just behave yourself, it wouldn’t have to be like this.”

Words I’d heard before and had hoped to never hear again.

Owen paused and let out a deep sigh. “Either way, baby, it’s gonna be real special.”

I drifted in and out of consciousness after that punch.

Truth be told, I wished he would have knocked me out cold.

Owen took both of my feet in his hands and dragged me under a palm tree leaning over the water. I couldn’t open my right eye, the vision in my left had begun to blur. I kicked my legs aimlessly as hard as I could, hoping to hit something or anything of Owen’s that would cause him to stop. Either my kicks were so weak they had no effect on him, or my perceived kicks were purely a product of my subconscious still willing me to fight.

He dropped to his knees, hovering over me. His sweat dripped onto my forehead like water torture. His pungent body odor mixed with the smell of the salt in the air. I spent the last bit of fight I had
left trying to keep my knees together when he pushed my shorts
down off my legs, shoving his hands between them and holding my thighs open with his elbows. He hooked his fingers through the crotch of my underwear, ripping them off in one swipe, groaning when his fingers brushed over my sex. He brought my panties up to his nose and sniffed. His jaw tightened. The thick vein in his neck throbbed. His rage erupted.

“I can fucking
smell him on you
,
you fucking whore!
” he roared.

He tossed them blindly into the canal. He used his knees to keep my legs spread open, then positioned himself between them.

This is really happening...

I tried to scream, but all that came out was a weak groan. A wave of nausea washed over me. I turned my head to the side, and I threw up into the sand, choking on the chunks of fried chicken as they came back up.

Had it been only an hour since I was with Jake? Was it possible?

Because now I was in hell. With the devil himself.

Owen didn’t seem to notice the vomit, and if he did, he didn’t seem to care. With one motion, he pulled down his jeans and freed
himself of his boxers. He forced one hand under my back, yanking me closer to him, and with the other hand he thrust himself inside me. I could feel the grit of the sand from the beach tearing at my
insides like shards of glass. The burning was like nothing I’d ever experienced from external touch. This wasn’t like my skin was being ignited.

I cried out.

This time, I was the flame. The pain was blinding. All I saw was white.

I couldn’t make myself believe what was happening. As a
product
of the most fucked up home in some deviant God’s creation, I was being faced with the one thing I’d managed to avoid.
This can’t be happening.
I kept telling myself over and over again.
This can’t be
happening.

Only, it was happening. There was nothing I could do to stop it.

The pain was worse than when my mother carved me up like a fucking Thanksgiving turkey. It was worse than being stabbed.

Worse than being beaten.

Worse than anything.

I cried out again and again as he entered me. Every sound from my mouth was answered with a blow from his closed fist. “Don’t fucking cry, you
bitch
,” he spat, thrusting harder, punishing me. “I know you like it.”