“Soon,” Piper murmured. “G’night, mom.”
She tipped her head back and gazed up at the night sky, whispering the names of the constellations she’d been teaching herself. Star-gazing, she had learned, was best done on a moonless night, a minimum of 15 to 20 minutes after being around any light source, even a candle. That was the reason she gave Brody, anyway, for the long stretches of time she spent outside after the sun went down. It wasn’t like she could tell him she came out here the better to visit with her mother.
In spite of the weirdness they’d all experienced, it still seemed impossible, but Piper was sure of what she was feeling, and of what she saw. Always, always, a green-pink-purple bond-line connected her to her mother, who was somewhere straight south of here. The cabin. Piper was sure. And almost daily now, she heard her mother’s voice and felt her presence, usually late in the day after the sun had gone down. At those times, the line between them became so substantial, Piper had tried to reach out and touch it.
The possibility existed, of course, that she was nuts. But she’d rather embrace insanity than give up the comfort of her mother’s daily presence. And what defined “sanity” anymore, anyway? It’s not like any of them were stable. Not really. People adapted in twisted ways, performed whatever mental gymnastics they had to in order to keep on keepin’ on.
The cabin door cracked open suddenly, polluting the night with light. Piper snapped her eyes shut, but not fast enough. Brody’s low voice rumbled out. “It’s time to come inside.”
Piper opened her eyes. Sure enough, her vision had been compromised by just that brief flash. The constellations above her seemed dimmer, the Milky Way muted. She sighed softly and rose from her chair to walk inside, silent and obedient. Leave it to Brody to stifle the night sky, just like he stifled everything else.
He held the door for her, then swung it shut when she’d entered. They moved through the nighttime rituals with the silent efficiency of long habit, opening the blackout curtains when the hurricane lamps had all been extinguished, banking the fire for the night, double-checking that their clothes and weapons were at the ready, in case the night brought the unexpected.
Once in bed, Piper turned her head when Brody’s hands slid under and around her, pulling her underneath him. She named the stars and constellations she could see through the window while his body moved against and inside hers: Orion, the hunter, with his two hunting dogs; Canis Major and Canis Minor; Sirius, the Dog Star; Gemini; and Pleiades, the Seven Sisters.
Brody’s use of her finished, and she rolled on her side away from him, tucking into a ball and ignoring the sticky discomfort between her legs. Her eyes drooped immediately, and she had mere moments to marvel at how tuned she – a former, die-hard night owl – had become to the natural rhythms of night and day before sleep took her.
She woke in the gray pre-dawn to Brody’s once-more-insistent hands, kept her eyes closed until he was finished, then rose to wash and dress. When she was ready for the day, she sat at the small table by the window and watched her birds, their movements a flickering oasis of joy to her. Her mother visited at night, but it was in these early-morning moments that she most missed her father. Her memories of him teaching her the names of the birds they both loved were worn as smooth as worry-stones, she took them out so often.
“Cedar Waxwing,” she whispered. “Downy Woodpecker. Chickadee-dee-dee.” God, Dad, I miss you so much.
“Time to go.” They were the first words Brody had spoken to her since the night before, and his gravelly voice made her jump. She stood, accepted the daypack he handed her, and followed him out the door.
After breakfast, she took her turn at KP then headed for the clinic, where she spent her days with Ruth, continuing her lessons and gradually taking on more and more of the health-care duties of their group. The older woman just wasn’t rallying like the others; she remained too thin, and the cough Piper’s ‘flu had left her with lingered on and on. Piper knew she should feel guilty about the harm she’d done to her only ally, but, well, she didn’t. The place inside her that used to feel guilt seemed to no longer exist.
Ruth was dozing on one of the cots when Piper arrived, but she roused when Piper started rummaging around and setting out supplies, prepping the clinic for the day. The older woman yawned and stretched, then scrubbed her hands over her face. “Man, I just can’t get caught up. Doesn’t matter how long I sleep, I just feel wrung out.”
Piper patted her shoulder sympathetically on her way to the supply cupboard. “Nothing big’s going on. Maybe you should go back to your cabin, try to get some rest. You can teach me sutures another time.”
“No, I’ll be fine. It’s not every day we have fresh pig’s feet to work with.”
“True,” Piper agreed, but she had heard the longing in Ruth’s voice. She would get her to at least lie down for an afternoon nap. “Before we start, though, how about a haircut?”
Ruth rose from the cot, darting a glance at the door. “Brody’s out on patrol?”
“All day. I’ll get the clippers.”
They didn’t discuss the circumstances; they never had. With the efficiency of long practice, Ruth ran the clippers swiftly over Piper’s head. Tiny pieces of blonde hair fell to the floor and clung to the plastic Piper had wrapped around her shoulders, dusting her with gold. They performed this task an average of once a week, keeping Piper’s hair less than an inch long, and no one – not even Brody – ever questioned why Piper’s hair never grew. Piper didn’t know if it was disinterest or male cluelessness, but either way she was grateful.
When Ruth finished, Piper carefully removed the plastic drape, then swept up every piece of hair and washed her face. Ruth had the clippers cleaned and put away by the time she was done; the whole ritual took less than ten minutes, and when it was over, Brody had one less weapon to use against her. A solid start to the day, Piper thought, as she collected suture supplies from the cupboard.
Tyler and Adam had returned from patrol the day before, hauling a pig carcass between them. The sow had apparently been someone’s pet in the time before, because Tyler had walked right up to her and killed her. Neither he nor Adam volunteered any details on the actual kill; both of them had been covered with blood and their eyes had been a little wild. Piper knew only that they hadn’t shot her – Brody had strict rules about discharging weapons: Only in defense of the camp, or if you were in mortal peril and needed help. In the latter case, he had drilled into them, you’d better be bleeding out or hanging from a cliff. Otherwise, you were expected to help yourself rather than call others into a dangerous situation.
So for a few days, they were enjoying fresh pork. Max had plans to smoke the belly for bacon, and Ruth had asked for the lower legs and feet so she could teach Piper to suture. So far, their group had been lucky, and injuries had been few. Other than the occasional abrasion and Piper’s ‘flu, only Jenny had suffered even a moderate injury, spraining her ankle. Piper had been disappointed when Ruth determined the bone wasn’t broken. Learning to treat such an injury would have been interesting and useful.
Ruth lined up the pig’s legs on the plastic-covered treatment table and began to create a series of wounds with various sharp implements: a scalpel, a serrated knife, the sharp edge of a tin can, and an arrowhead. Piper reached out and fingered the reddish mud still stuck to the animal’s cloven hoof and had to swallow hard. Her mother’s work with animal rescue groups had brought her into contact with a few potbelly pigs that were no longer tiny and cute enough for their owners; she could hear her mom’s voice, talking about the misconceptions people had about pigs, about their intelligence and loyalty. Had this pig been frightened and lonely? Had she been relieved to find people, only to die in terror, wallowing in mud created by her own blood? Piper swallowed again, tasted tears, and looked up to find Ruth gazing at her.
“You gonna go all animal-rights-activist on me?”
“No.” Piper blinked at the ceiling, fighting for control. What the hell was this, getting all teary over a pig? She had deliberately harmed the kind woman standing right in front of her and would do so again if it served her tactical plans. But mud on a pet pig’s hooves made her weep? God, she was really not okay. “I don’t know what my deal is. Just ignore me.”
“Happily. Now, let’s start on this simple laceration. Hand me the hemostats and I’ll show you a few stitches. First, you should always start in the middle…”
Within the hour, Piper had mastered the process and was working on the more difficult lacerations Ruth had created: flaps of skin, wounds where chunks of flesh were missing, and puncture wounds. Ruth puttered around as Piper worked, muttering her way through an inventory list. In spite of their injury-free status, they were starting to run low on some basic supplies, and Ruth had been talking about sending the patrols into surrounding towns to scavenge for necessities. She set the clipboard down beside Piper, then went to get a stepladder, and Piper glanced at it curiously.
Acetaminophen and ibuprofen. She’d dispensed those like candy during her ‘flu, so that made sense. Sterile saline in IV bags and any form of electrolyte replacement drink, whether for children or adults. Clearly, Ruth wanted to be prepared in the event of another illness. Piper squinted at the list, then blinked. Could she be reading that next word right?
Condoms? Really?
Piper straightened, her hands going still as she stared into space and processed all the implications of that single word. How could they be running low on condoms? Who was using them? Okay, probably Jenny and Aaron, though the thought made her cringe. She couldn’t imagine Aaron doing anything but moping. Scratch that. She didn’t want to imagine it. But who else?
She glanced up at Ruth, who was now rummaging in the top of their supply cupboard, still muttering to herself. Swiping her hands on the apron she wore and leaving a smear of pig’s blood behind, she reached out to pull the clipboard a little closer, lifting the top paper to peek beneath. Ruth’s neat handwriting marched down the page, listing the date, the supplies dispensed, and the person she’d dispensed them to. The ledger began just after they’d arrived here. Starting late last summer, there were regular notations of condoms being dispensed to Aaron. Ew.
Piper lifted the next page, and the next, scanning. She wasn’t allowed to give out supplies, so this was a revelation. Almost all of the men had been in here asking for condoms at one point or another, and the pattern of those requests was fascinating. Aaron was the only regular; the other men were more sporadic. Josh, Ethan, Tyler, Adam and Levi had all made requests within days of each other early this past fall – what to make of that? Had they found a willing woman nearby, maybe in Walden? She flipped another page. With the exceptions of Josh and Levi, the requests hadn’t been repeated. Then, just last week, Ethan had been in. Interesting.
She scanned the list over again, and frowned. There were only two men whose names didn’t appear: Max, and Brody.
Brody.
It hit her then, like a kick in the chest, that condoms weren’t just used to protect against STD’s and AIDS.
Ruth cleared her throat, and Piper looked up to see the older woman glaring down at her from the top of her stepladder. “That’s not exactly your business.”
Piper found she couldn’t reply. She returned the papers to their proper position and slid the clipboard back where it had been, but she didn’t start stitching again. She could barely admit, even to herself, that until this very moment it had not occurred to her that Brody could get her pregnant. How could she not have considered this? She was suddenly chilled. Was there something wrong with her, with her mind? Maybe she really was crazy.
Ruth climbed down and came to stand by her. “What is it?”
Piper looked up, reminded of the first day they’d worked together, when she’d had to decide to trust. Without speaking, she pointed at the word “condoms” on Ruth’s list. She looked back up at Ruth, and her lips parted, but again, she couldn’t speak.
Ruth’s eyes narrowed. “You need some? I figured Brody had his own supply.”
Piper shook her head and just gazed at her in wordless misery. How could she explain? She wasn’t totally inexperienced and hadn’t been a virgin when Brody raped her. She was humiliated to the core that something as basic as pregnancy had never even crossed her mind. She cleared her throat. “He doesn’t… I mean, we don’t use…”
Ruth’s eyes widened. “Are you shitting me? You haven’t been using any protection at all? If that isn’t the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, I don’t know what.” She stalked to the supply cupboard and returned with a plastic-sealed box, slapping it down beside Piper. “From what I heard, Brody was real clear on this. No pregnancies, no more mouths to feed, not until our situation stabilizes. I’d like to know what the story is. Does he think the rules don’t apply to him?”
She gazed at Piper, clearly expecting an answer. Piper looked down at the box of condoms and whispered the honest truth. “I have no idea what he thinks.”
She looked up at Ruth, and struggled to explain. “Ruth, I never even thought about it. I can’t explain it. I…” She was gasping out the words, and suddenly found herself sitting in a chair Ruth had shoved under her knees. With brisk practicality, the older woman took the hemostats out of Piper’s hand and set them on the treatment table. Then she knelt in front of Piper, every inch the experienced medic.
“Take a deep breath with me. Good. Another.” Ruth’s fingers wrapped around Piper’s wrist, monitoring her pulse while her eyes probed. “You’re pale and your skin is clammy. Your pulse is racing, your breathing is shallow, and you’re having trouble forming words. What are these symptoms of?”
They had played this game for hours on end. Piper responded to the barked question automatically. “Emotional shock or acute stress response.”
“Good. Treatment?”
Piper’s head was clearing, and she was having trouble making eye contact with Ruth. Shame was closing over her head at both her naïveté and her dramatic response to it. “Hot cup of tea and a warm blanket.” A sob hiccupped out of her. “And a smack upside the head for being an idiot.”
Ruth’s warm, strong hand coasted down the side of her face and landed on her shoulder to deliver a firm squeeze. “There’s my sassy girl,” she said softly. “Let me get those first two. Then you can tell me why you need the third.”
Piper just sat and stared while Ruth wrapped a soft blanket around her shoulders, then left, presumably headed for the kitchen. She returned a few minutes later with a mug and put it in Piper’s hands, wrapping the younger woman’s hands around the warmth herself. Then she slid another chair to face Piper’s and seated herself with a soft groan.
“Getting old sucks. I know you can’t imagine it now, but one day, every bone you’ve got will ache, and you’ll remember me saying that.” Piper lifted her eyes, and Ruth smiled wryly. “Maybe you can imagine. Now. Tell me, and don’t you look down. Unless you murdered Mother Teresa with your own two hands and ate her brain with fava beans and a nice chianti, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. I did admire that woman.”
Piper’s lips twitched. “I’m pretty sure it was the liver. The quote. Hannibal Lecter.” Words were coming now, though they weren’t necessarily making sense, even to her. “Ruth, I don’t think I can talk about this.”
“Spit it out and we’ll move on. I don’t want whatever it is to blindside you again. Besides, there’s the matter of birth control to discuss. Let’s start with this – are you pregnant right now?”
“No.” She had just finished her cycle. Now that she was thinking about all of this, how the hell had the sanitary supplies gotten into their cabin bathroom? She should have had to request them, but never had. They were just there when she needed them. Nor did Brody attempt to have intercourse with her when she was menstruating. The realization of how closely he still watched her made her shudder and clutch the blanket around her shoulders. “Holy shit, Ruth, I can’t believe how stupid I’ve been.”
“Stupid, maybe. Lucky, for sure.” She paused, then glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “The situation between you and Brody. I assumed it had become consensual. That things had changed, and you’d reached an understanding. Is that right?”
“No.” The word grated out of her. “Not consensual.”
Ruth’s lips tightened. She stared at Piper for long moments, then heaved a sigh that seemed to come from her toes. “I won’t insult your intelligence by asking why. If there was a way out, you’d have found it, brilliant as you are.”
Piper’s breath caught. “You could help me,” she whispered. “All of you. If all of you helped me, we could make him leave, or at least make him leave me alone.” Her words started picking up speed and her voice rose on a current of soaring hope. “They’d believe me, if you backed me up. It wouldn’t just be my word against his. We could tell them what he has been doing to me, and they would help, I’m just sure of it. Please,” she begged, and didn’t care that she was. “Help me tell them. Please.”
It was a moment she would remember for the rest of her life. The desperate, wild, winging hope. The way Ruth’s eyes dropped, the troubled frown that wrinkled her forehead. Piper would come to think of it as the moment she lost her grip on the last vestige of what was innately good in her being, the best of herself, a state of grace she would struggle all her remaining days to recover.
Ruth stood up and turned away, moving things around only to replace them the way they’d been. She turned back to Piper, tried to meet her eyes, and failed. For long moments, she stared at the floor between them. Then, she spoke two words: “They know.”
Oh. The room swam and spun around her. “All of them? Everything? How?”
Still, Ruth couldn’t look at her. “Brody spoke to the group, not long after the beginning of your arrangement. That’s what he called it: an arrangement. He said you didn’t bring any valuable skills to the group, that he’d chosen a way for you to earn your keep. He said you were having trouble accepting it, but if any of us interfered, we’d be out of the group.” Her eyes flickered up, a brief flash of guilt before they dropped again. “The only person who could have stood up to him was Levi. And, well. You know.”
She did know. Levi’s hatred had been the final nail in her coffin. Brody had planned this, from the first moment he decided he wanted her to this very moment, and his execution of that plan had been flawless. She closed her eyes, and would never be able to speak of what happened inside her heart at that moment: a shattering. A solidification. A path chosen.
She looked up at Ruth through eyes that burned. How she hated them, all of them, from this kind and cantankerous woman standing in front of her, right down to sweet, young Caden. She stood so abruptly she knocked the chair over and dropped the mug on the floor. It shattered, spraying hot tea over her lower legs, which she barely felt. Stepping over the shards, she headed for the door.
“I need some time.” She paused, then whirled back and grabbed the box of condoms Ruth had left on the treatment table. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“Piper. Hon.” Ruth’s voice was layered with emotions: regret, apology, and sorrow. “Please don’t do anything stupid. Just take some time to calm down. Watch your birds. Do whatever you need to do, but get a grip. You’re a valuable member of this group, and people care about you.”
“Really?” Piper spun and hissed the word from the door. Her skin felt incandescent, her eyes like orbs of fire. “You’re going to try to feed me that? Well, you know what, Ruth?” She smiled a terrible smile. “Fuck you. Fuck all of you.”
She left the clinic, blind and deaf to anything but the thoughts shrieking like harpies inside her head. Slamming through an outside door, the cold brought her up short. She stood for a moment, panting, and forced herself to think. If there was one thing she’d learned at great cost during this past year, it was to always, always, think before she spoke or acted. Pure reaction was a luxury she could never afford.
She needed outdoor gear. She needed a safe place, and some time. She needed to get her thoughts ordered and her emotions under control. Ruth had been right about that, at least.
Still clutching the box of condoms, she jogged to the cabin she shared with Brody. Her heavy winter coat was still at the clinic, but she could layer on a sweatshirt and a lighter coat. She did so, and after long consideration, she stuffed the box of condoms into her coat pocket. If she left it here, she was certain it would disappear as mysteriously as her feminine supplies had showed up, without a word of discussion. She paused, considering, then slipped out.
She hadn’t been inside the cabin she and Noah had shared since his death. The door was unlocked, and she slipped inside, inhaling cold, stale air. All of his things were still here, just as he’d left them so many months ago, though they were dust-free. His body had been buried beside his father’s, but this place had been preserved as a shrine.
By Jenny, no doubt. The loss of her brother, so soon after two of her children and her father, had left the woman a fragile wisp. She drifted around the edges of the group, clutching at her only living child and shadowed by her ever-despondent husband, insubstantial as a ghost, worthless in the day-to-day workings of their group. But did she get accused of being dead weight, of lacking “valuable skills?” Piper’s jaw clenched, and the harpies started up again.
She sat down at the table and took one deep breath after another. All this time, a part of her had clung to the belief that eventually, when she’d gained enough status, she would be able to speak up and free herself. She had used her knowledge of people and social dynamics to plot her course; when she had gained enough social value, her voice would be set free. She could reveal the injustice she was suffering, and she would be heard. Heard and helped. With that always in mind, she had carefully nurtured relationships and had worked her ass off without a single word of complaint.
To find out that every member of the group had known, all along, that she was being held against her will and repeatedly raped was like having the keys to her prison ripped right out of her hand. She dropped her head onto her crossed arms. She had been the most pathetic of fools. How many times had her mind whispered that they knew, they must know? How many times had she convinced herself otherwise, because to believe it was not bearable?
Well. It was bearable. She had just found that out, hadn’t she?
Methodically, she thought about every member of the group, reconciling herself to the truth: Adam knew. Tyler knew. Max knew. All of them, and not a word in her defense, not a single offer of help, not one. When she was finished, her last hopes lay shriveled behind her, but the path ahead was clear and uncluttered by any sort of obligation.
It was time for some changes.
She stayed in the cabin until lunchtime, watching her birds and getting her center still and quiet. She’d been playing a calculated role all along, but she needed to step it up a notch. That required control, and she couldn’t be in control when she was angry, frightened, or hurt. By the time the bell sounded for the noon meal, she was ready.
She sought out Ruth first, murmuring a soft apology for her outburst, accepting the older woman’s brisk hug. Ruth didn’t return the request for pardon, but why would she? In her mind, Piper’s situation was justified. In all their minds. Piper swallowed hard, pictured her birds, and felt her heartbeat slow once more.
Except for Brody and Josh, who were out on patrol, all of the men were in the mess hall for lunch. Piper pretended to eat, pushing her food around and watching, until Ethan rose with his tray and headed for the kitchen. She followed him, hoping no one else would follow, grateful when no one did. In the kitchen, she waited quietly while he took care of his dishes, then spoke just as he was turning to leave.
“Ethan, wait. I wonder, do you ever see Elise?” There – the startled jerk of his head, the way his eyes darted to hers and narrowed, and most telling of all, the flaring arc of a bright white bond-line, pointing to the southwest. Only between Ethan and Elise had she ever seen a line like it. She widened her own eyes slightly, innocent and guileless. “It’s just that I worry about them, and wonder how they’re doing, her and the kids. Sam and Becca. They made me think of my little sister.” Not true – those two young predators couldn’t be more different than her sweet Macy –but none of this was true. “I know you guys patrol in Walden. I just wondered if you’d seen her.”
“I, ah…” Bright flags of color flew on Ethan’s cheekbones. He looked down, scuffed his boot on the floor, and cleared his throat. God, he couldn’t possibly be more obvious. “I’ve seen her. She’s good. Fine, I mean. Her and the kids.”
“I wish they could have stayed here.” Wistful, with just a touch of longing. “It would be good for Jenny and Caden, I bet. Another woman, some kids.” She bit her lip to hide an inappropriate grin; that last had been a stroke of genius. Tender-hearted Ethan, like Max, fretted over Jenny, Aaron and their son. “Anyway. If you see them, please tell them I said ‘hello.’”
“Will do.”
Piper took care of her own dishes while he left the kitchen. She needed genuine allies. Step one towards that goal had been taken.
She spent the afternoon working on her suturing techniques under Ruth’s watchful eyes. Then, while Ruth took a nap on one of the cots, she memorized the list of requests for supplies, speculating as to what those requests might imply and making mental notes for future reference. Just as she had guessed, Brody made regular requests for feminine sanitary supplies. Jenny and Aaron were both on anti-depressants, which didn’t surprise her; so were Tyler and Adam, which did. Max took painkillers – for his back, she guessed, which he had injured in Afghanistan. And lookee there. Ethan had come in while she’d been out this morning, asking for more condoms. Looked like he was seeing Elise even more frequently than Piper had guessed. When she finished, she flipped through the confidential medical files, memorizing allergies and drug intolerances, anything that might be of use someday.
Piper let Ruth sleep until the dinner bell sounded, then shook her awake and headed to the mess hall alone, leaving the older woman to stretch and groan. As she approached the doors, her heart sped up; what she was about to attempt could backfire, ruining the months of work she’d done to gain a sympathetic position in the group. It could also tip her hand to Brody. Either possibility sent chills of fear dancing down her spine and arms. She paused just outside to take deep, calming breaths and remind herself that she’d been performing without a net all along – the only difference was she knew it now.
However, it was still in her best interests to keep Brody in the dark. She took one last steadying breath, opened the mess hall door, and stepped onto the tightrope. Except for Ruth, everyone had already gathered. She felt Brody’s eyes on her and turned, meeting his gaze and nodding, just as she always did. Habits and patterns. She’d been using them for months now, to stay safe.
“No net,” she murmured to herself, and abandoned both.
She stepped into the mess line, close behind Josh. It was something she never would have done before today, and he glanced back at her, startled by her proximity. She murmured an apology, letting her eyes linger just a little too long. As the line crept forward, she crowded his personal space over and over, always apologetic, always letting her eyes lift and hold his, stroking him with interest, admiration, and just a hint of desire. Not too fast, she admonished herself. This was just step one. No need to rush things.
Josh, however, had other ideas. They reached the end of the line, and instead of moving to take a seat, he deliberately stepped right in front of her. His bold move caught her off guard, and she stumbled, almost dumping her tray. Josh’s hand closed around her upper arm, but instead of steadying her, he pulled her even closer. Piper looked up, not needing to pretend to be startled. He smiled down at her, the expression so obviously intimate, Piper felt her face flush. My god. He was either fearless or stupid.
“Watch yourself,” he murmured. His eyes flicked down her body before returning to her face. “I certainly am.”
Okay. He was both.
He let her go and headed for a seat. Piper could feel Brody’s eyes drilling into the back of her head like nails. This was escalating much faster than she’d planned, but she could adapt. She turned towards Brody but kept her eyes down, rubbing her arm and letting the tiniest, pained grimace touch her features. There. That ought to do it.
Ruth was at the end of the line, and rather than taking a seat, Piper joined her, chatting as she moved through the line a second time. Behind Brody’s back, she snuck repeated glances at Josh and found him watching her every time. If she sensed the eyes of others, she let hers drop immediately. If she didn’t, she resumed the lingering admiration. By the end of the meal, Josh’s face was flushed, and his jaw was slack. What an over-sexed baboon. This was too easy.
It was customary for people to linger after dinner, playing cards or board games in small groups. Sometimes, Levi brought out his guitar and sang, accompanied by his sister. Their voices were beautiful, but their eyes were sad; sometimes, you could hear where a third voice should have completed the harmony. Noah had often spoken of singing with his siblings. Good memories, he always said. Wherever he was, Piper hoped he couldn’t see what she was about to do.
She walked to where Brody was already playing poker with several other men, including Josh. “I’ve got a headache,” she murmured, loud enough for all of them to hear. “I’m going to head to the cabin. Is that okay?”
When she looked up, her heart stuttered. His eyes were sharp, too sharp, and there was something in them she couldn’t identify. It took him forever to nod. “That’s fine.”
“Thank you.”
She turned and left without looking at anyone else, though she could feel Josh’s eyes running over her like hands. She paused to say good night to Ruth and Max, who were playing Parcheesi with Caden, and dawdled into her coat, giving the situation time to ripen. Finally, she judged the time was right to leave.
The night was brittle with cold when she stepped outside, tightening her lungs and making her cough. Piper flipped her hood up and dug her hands deep into her pockets, though she didn’t zip her coat. She moved to stand just inside the tree line and started counting, murmuring the numbers on soft puffs of frozen air. If Josh didn’t show in two minutes, she really would head to the cabin. She could always pick the gambit up again tomorrow. He was proving surprisingly susceptible to her tactics.
At a minute and a half, the mess hall door opened, then closed, and she heard Josh cough. Her heart picked up speed. This was where it got tricky. She had to play this just right.
Piper stepped into the open. “Who’s there? Brody, is that you?”
Josh strode towards her, light from the half-moon revealing a face that was tight with lust. “You know it’s not.” He had her pinned to a tree before she could reply, and his wet mouth crunched down on hers. Piper tasted blood, and managed to turn her head to the side. She let his mouth slide down her throat, opening her coat to his hands while he groaned against her skin. “You been coming on to me all night. I knew you’d be waiting for me.”
Piper let her body reply, moving against him suggestively, making soft, whimpering sounds. It took an amazingly short time to work him into a frantic lather, his body grinding against hers, his groans getting louder and louder. When she had him on the very knife’s edge, she brought her hands up between them and shoved as hard as she could. “No!”
The force of her movement sent her sprawling in the snow. Josh stared at her, slack-faced for a moment, then reached down to haul her to her feet, banding his arms around her again. “The fuck you say, Piper. This isn’t high school.” He hunched over her, bending her backwards painfully. “Brody won’t find out. Just relax.”
She squirmed against him strategically, whimpering, and he groaned again. He released her, only to reach up and fist his hands in the front of her shirt, parting it with several hard jerks. Perfect – she’d been about to do that herself. Just one more item on the to-do list, and she could take this to the next stage.
Again, she let him grope and grind and pant himself into desperation. Then, she shoved again. This time, though, she stayed on her feet. She lifted her chin, and made no attempt to cover her proud, naked breasts against the cold. As he had done with her, she let her eyes feel their way down his body, lingering on his crotch. She cocked her head to the side, considering, then she laughed with soft disdain and shook her head.
“Know what, Josh? I’ve just decided it’s not worth it.” It took forever for what she was saying to sink through his lust. She waited until his face finally went stiff with shock. Rage and arousal blended on his features, rendering him truly ugly. She took a step back, bracing her weight, preparing. “So, thanks but no thanks. I’ll see you aroun –”
She didn’t get to finish the word before he caught her with a full-arm-swinging, open-handed blow. Her lip split and her nose crunched, but she kept her wits – she had Brody to thank for that skill – and used the momentum to spin away. He advanced on her, spraying spit and obscenities in his rage.
“You god-damned cock tease, you sure as fuck are not going to pull this shit. You been begging for it, and you are fucking going to get it.”
Piper danced backwards, deflected a second and third slap, and kept him drooling with careless flashes of bare breasts and taunting words. “C’mon, Josh, you’ve been turned down before. Oh, that’s right. I’ve turned you down before. Guess it just goes to show you should always stick with your first impulse.”
She could not allow him to start thinking, couldn’t let him sidestep the trap she was just about to close around him. He grabbed at her wrist and she barely broke free. Christ, he was fast. She spun again, found her back against the mess hall door, and paused just long enough to flash him a grin with bloody teeth. “Show time, asshole.”
She shoved the door open and let herself sprawl on the floor. Josh stumbled in after her, and she couldn’t avoid the kick he aimed at her midsection, barely managing to turn so she took the blow on her hip. She scrambled backwards as fast as she could, no longer faking her fear – he could seriously injure her before anyone intervened – and let the barriers she’d been maintaining around her emotions, month after month, drop. Opening this well was a risk – she might never get the cover back on – but her performance had to convince every person in this room, especially those with heightened intuition. Most especially, Brody.
Piper thought about all of these men and women looking the other way while she was forced to endure abuse and rape. She thought of Noah, of a sweet and intelligent young man snuffed out by the calculations of a monster. She thought of her mother and father, of little Macy, the longing for them that made her very bones ache. Were they okay? Did they think she was dead? Finally, she thought of red mud on a pig’s hooves, about a pet that had been killed not by Tyler’s knife, but by trust, and the kindness shown to her by humans in a softer time. The cry that broke out of her chest was more wounded animal than human, as the emotions she’d conjured ripped free of her control. The sound brought every person in the mess hall to their feet.
She kept crawling, and let it all surge out of her: the pain for the people she’d lost, the hurt that was equal parts emotional and physical, the agony of betrayal by people she worked and lived with. Sobbing, she scrambled to avoid another kick from Josh. “Help me,” she gasped. “Please, help me, make him stop, help me help me…”
Sound and motion erupted around her, cacophony and kaleidoscope. Ruth’s arms were the first thing she separated from the morass; strong and warm, they closed around her, protecting and anchoring her. Piper burrowed as close as she could get, shuddering. She fisted her hands in the front of Ruth’s sweatshirt and let grief roll out of her in wave after wave.
She was vaguely aware of Josh bellowing, but she knew he wouldn’t be believed. Even if she hadn’t stacked this deck perfectly, his reputation as an arrogant, self-important blowhard would have cast doubt on his claims of innocence. Piper could huddle here in Ruth’s sheltering arms, luxuriating in her grief storm, and know that the situation would resolve to her satisfaction. Josh had put his hands on Brody’s woman, and she had made sure everyone in the group knew it. If Brody wanted to maintain his status, there was only one course he could take.
It surprised her when Ruth’s arms parted and other hands grasped her elbows. Brody lifted her to her feet before she had a chance to wipe her face clean of tears, blood and snot. She heard Ruth huffing indignantly as she struggled to her feet beside them. The older woman shoved Brody’s hands to the side, and turned Piper by the shoulders to face her. Briskly, she pulled the edges of Piper’s shirt together, then zipped her coat for her.
“Christ on a crutch, at least keep her from catching her death,” she muttered. She snapped her fingers to the side, and Max put a dish towel in her hand. With gentle, slow strokes, she cleaned Piper’s face, examining her injuries. “Your pretty nose is bruised, but I don’t think it’s broken.” She touched Piper’s mangled lower lip, winced in sympathy, then commanded. “Open your mouth. Good. Any teeth loose? No?”
Brody stepped close, angling his body between Piper and Ruth. “That’s enough. She’s fine.”
Piper barely stifled a hysterical giggle at that. Sure, she was fine, and he ought to know. He’d dished out much, much worse, and she had recovered. She gazed up at him, allowing the tears to continue welling and overflowing – oh, the relief of tears, the sheer relief of them – and gave him the words she knew he was expecting: “I’m sorry.”
Sharp, sharp eyes, again with that something she couldn’t identify. He stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, gazing into her eyes while he held her upper arms – not ungently – in his big hands. To the others, it must have looked like he was offering comfort in his cool, reserved way. Piper, however, knew when she was being measured. She closed her eyes and let herself remember, let herself feel the shock of that first rape, the rage, the horror, the disbelief. When she opened her eyes to his again, it was there for him to see, all of it. Just as long as he thought those feelings were attached to Josh, she was home free.
Finally, he released her, and she looked around. Adam and Tyler were holding Josh over by the door, rough hands twisting the struggling man’s arms cruelly. Ethan stood close by, ready to help. All three of them were bristling with outraged aggression, and their eyes dropped respectfully when hers touched theirs. Max was beside Ruth, both of them wearing identical expressions of angry concern. Jenny, Aaron and Caden were gone. No doubt, the parents had decided their son had seen enough drama and bare breasts for one evening. Piper stifled another giggle and curled her hands into fists, digging her nails into her palms. Okay, it was time to get a grip now.
Levi stood alone, his expression neutral. When Piper’s eyes met his, he kept his face still, hiding whatever he might be feeling behind an impassive façade, though he clearly wasn’t overcome by concern for her. Piper let her eyes coast right on by, and returned her eyes to Brody.
“Please. Make him leave.” Her voice hitched pitifully as she made her request, but she made sure every person there heard it. “Make him leave and never come back. Please?”
Brody’s face tightened. He looked over at Adam and Tyler, and jerked his chin at the door. They obeyed, hauling Josh between them with Ethan close behind. Piper felt a flood of relief – she’d done it, she’d actually pulled this off – but it was short-lived.
Brody took Piper’s arm and steered her towards the door. Max and Ruth fell into step behind them, with Levi bringing up the rear. She didn’t understand the expressions on any of their faces: grim resignation, dread, anger. What was happening? She didn’t need to be a part of escorting Josh from the compound. Bond-lines were flaring and fading all around her, so fast she couldn’t understand what she was seeing.
Outside, Adam and Tyler were holding Josh on his knees. The captive man renewed his struggles when they emerged, and started talking in a fast, high-pitched voice that didn’t sound anything like him. “Please, Brody, no. I’ll go. I swear to God I won’t come back – don’t do this! I swear she started it! She set me up, I swear it on the Bible, man, please!” He was sobbing now. “Please! Don’t!”
Without explanation or ceremony, Brody drew a pistol and walked straight up to Josh, pressing the barrel of it against his head. Josh screamed, his words dissolving into incoherent sobs interspersed with the occasional “Please.” The sudden sharp stink of urine filled the air, and the front of his camouflage pants started to steam in the frigid cold.
Piper sagged against Ruth, struggling to overcome her shock. She had not anticipated this. They were brothers-in-arms. Josh’s exile had been her goal, making room for Elise and her children while simultaneously relieving her of his odious presence. She had gloated over the prospect of him being cut loose with nothing but the clothes on his back. But this…this was execution. Her eyes darted around, and her shock deepened. Every person here was accepting this.
Then, the unthinkable happened.
Brody turned and looked straight at her. He lowered the pistol, then held it out to her butt first, his eyes locked on hers. “This is Piper’s kill.”
Piper’s knees wobbled, and she clutched at Ruth’s supporting arms. Max stepped up to help, wrapping an arm around her waist, and her eyes locked on his kind face. He met her gaze with calm implacability. “He’s a danger to the group. It has to be done.” His warm eyes were cold as they held hers. “And Brody is right. It’s your kill, and you should take it.”
Her eyes snapped to Ruth, but she found the same cold practicality there. The speed with which this was happening had her reeling. She couldn’t think.
Piper. Her mother’s voice. No. This is wrong. Undo it.
Then, she looked at the man she had condemned, at his piteous face.
“Piper,” he gasped, “Piper, please, tell them the truth – it was just a misunderstanding! I’m sorry I hurt you, I never should have touched you – please don’t let them kill me! You know what happened!” His face contorted and he changed tactics. “You fucking bitch! You tell them the god-damned truth! You tell them how you were waiting for me, how you rubbed all over me! Tell them, or I will hunt you down and make you beg to die, you worthless piece of –”
Piper’s spine straightened. She strode to where Brody stood, took the pistol from him, and without hesitation, shot Josh between the eyes.
“Sorry, Mom,” she whispered. But she wasn’t.