And something is wrong, because they lied about the recording, Benji. I know you were recording us, and I think it was because you knew something was going to happen between me and you... I, I don’t feel right about this.
But they fucking buried you anyway, and all the truth and questions were buried with you.
You know what... I think we made love the night before you died. Maybe that is why you were recording because you wanted to keep the memory of our first time. Am I right?
I don't remember the act, and Landon and Jake told me that I fell asleep on the couch, that they did too, and we all woke up with you impaled on that table leg... But I felt you inside me the next day, Benji. I was sore. Why did your brothers lie? What the fuck happened? Did Jake get mad? Or jealous? Did he push you onto it?
God, I wish I remembered the way you touched me. I like to imagine it, though... Hey, would you like to hear a story?
This is how it happened: I imagine that you looked at me from across the glass table and you smiled—that smile. All the girls love that smile.
Our eyes met.
Something changed in that moment, and you saw me as more than what you did before. You saw me and you shook your head, like, how could you not have noticed it before? How much you wanted to kiss me. Then Jake said something stupid to me, and you stood up in a blind rage, and you ordered him to leave and Landon, too.
Everything was different. You knew you wanted me. Finally, you saw me. For the woman I had turned into. You took my hand and led me into your bedroom. I wasso fucking nervous. Even in my imagination, I'm nervous. You kept looking at my lips and I kept looking at yours.
We didn’t kiss. We did that inches-from-each-other-without-kissing thing that you said you liked when we watched that movie. I forget which one but it's one of your favourites.
You undressed me.
I undressed you.
You helped me onto your mattress.
And lying on top of me, you told me where to put my hands, and yours went everywhere, like you had more than two and they were all touching me. I felt you all over. You were gentle when you pushed into me, and I watched as your eyes closed in that moment.
Then I kissed you.
I stole the first kiss.
You opened your eyes and smiled at me, shaking your head because I took it before you could give it.
Then we made love.
- Fawn
Clay
My shoes rapslowly along the abattoir floor. Striding between the cow corpses hanging from the railing, I reach for my phone and decide to check in on her just once, despite myself. I hit Bolton’s number.
Two rings and he answers, “Yes, Boss?”
“What did she do today?” I ask, stopping outside the door to the processing floor, the scent of bleach and raw, clean meat thick in the air. I stroke the bristles along my jawline. This is all about her. This entire evening, this entire interruption is all about finding out who killed a boy I’m pleased is dead and who put that baby inside her so I can finish him too.
My fist tightens around the phone as her confession to seeking her father for help stirs in my mind. Help where her foster mother failed her, where the police failed her.
Frowning ahead, I recall her bowed, fragile frame sinking into the chair in the witness room while the officer sneered at her confused state. She needed someone to believe in her. No one did. Neither did I...
They won't make that mistake again.
The truth is all that my sweet girl wants.
Who took her innocence when she could not consent? Who came inside her pretty young pussy like a fucking invalid who didn’t consider the consequences? They knew she had no one. Pregnant or not. Raped or not. No one would care, and no one did...
A smooth smile rests on my lips as venomous rage races the length of each limb, my Butcher fists aching immediately.
I’ll be giving my little deer more than the truth. I’ll be giving her bloody revenge. Despite her self-preservation to not call this incident rape, I can’t call it anything else. And that thought is explosive—my Butcher head burning hotter than ever before.