Page 42 of Them Bones

They didn’t say a word when she pulled on her coat, hair still damp from a shower, and walked next door.

She’d seen Cary in the driveway, roiling with that strange tension she’d sensed on Halloween. In the daylight, out of the shadows, it seemed more normal. Just a protective older brother. And she figured she’d been reading it wrong, in the dark.

Honestly, she could kind of get why he was being big brotherly… The boy looked quite a bit older than Laney, and he definitely looked like trouble. He was striking, as dark and handsome as Cary was rakish and blonde. But he made her nervous, somehow. Like he was about to throw himself in front of a bus, or something.

She knocked, and the door flew open. She opened her mouth to say something, but Cary just waved her inside and was on her like flies to shit.

He half-walked half-ran them to the bedroom, his mouth hot and angry, pushing her down on the mattress. She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed him back, both of them working off their stress to the point of aggression. It felt good, to let it out. To not have to be soft, and gentle, andmotherly.

He slipped off her shirt and made quick work of her pants, flipping her over onto her stomach and nipping his way down her spine. His hands left her body for a moment, and she heard the clink of a buckle and zip of a fly, before he unceremoniously shoved her legs apart and pushed himself into her, hard.

She sucked in a breath, wincing in pain a little. Cary had always been a hard fuck. But this was something else.

His anger was bleeding out of him like a tidal wave, and he was pounding into her so hard it hurt – like he could fuck whatever it was inside of him away if he could just push harder, harder, harder.

She tried to lift her chest, to turn her head to tell him to ease up a bit, but his hand gripped the back of her head and forced her down into the pillow.

She clammed up, blind panic rushing in, and stayed frozen in place until he tensed up and came. His fingers slackened, the rage finally bleeding out of him. She stayed as still as she could, and after a few moments he pulled out and stood up, doing up his fly and refastening his buckle.

“Thanks baby,” he said. “You can show yourself out, yeah?”

Then he was gone.

It took Mara a few minutes to collect herself, and a few more to get dressed. It hurt, and she walked home with cum dripping down her thigh.

When she got back inside, her kids were mixing a new batch of cookie dough.

“We thought we could try again,” her oldest said, “so they aren’t burned. For Santa.”

Mara swept them up in her arms and burst into tears.

Then she called the landlord and gave her notice.

SHANE

Shane had never seen Laney so happy.

They’d returned from the tree lot with a slightly lopsided Christmas tree that Laney said “felt right”. Shane had screwed it into a base he filled with water, and then surprised Laney with several boxes of Christmas tree ornaments he had picked up at Walmart late the night before.

They’d spent hours watching her hem and haw over the placement of each one, Dustin on the ground with his sketch pad, Shane lounging on the couch, his long legs splayed wide, comfortable and easy.

Cary had phoned the house twice, wanting to speak to Laney. Both calls had been short and hadn’t seemed to bother her too much, apart from a few furtive glances in his direction and somemmhmm’s. The first was to tell her he was going to be home late. The second was to tell her he was going to be homereallylate.

When the tree was finally done to her satisfaction, Dustin had appeared with two packages and handed the first one to Laney – it was wrapped in brown packing paper, hand painted with funny little gnomes wearing birthday hats.

She beamed at him and tore it open, giggling at the wide assortment of fuzzy socks, knee socks, and ankle socks, all Christmas-themed.

Then, to Shane’s surprise, Dustin handed the second one to him.

He ran a hand over the brown packing paper. “Now?” he asked. Dustin nodded.

His wasn’t decorated like Laney’s, it just saidShanein large, surprisingly elegant script.

Inside was an 8x10 framed drawing of a red rose so dark it was almost black and an artful tangle of vines. There was something violent about it; the fallen petals looked like little hearts being choked by the vines and thorns. To the left of the rose was a butterfly in profile, beautiful and delicate. Somehow, the whole thing looked like a skull.

It was remarkable, but it made him uneasy. There was something about it he couldn’t put his finger on…

“I haven’t been given a present in a long time,” Shane said to cover up the sinking feeling in his stomach. “Thank you, Dustin.”

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