For the next forty minutes, I got to know Amanda really well, leaning on the wall, the ground—pressed against a worn and overused holding system. She was incredibly generous and walked away, promising she’d congratulate me again when I won next time. I’ll hold her to that, but after I come down from my high, I realize it’s been hours since I’ve seen Clara.
Walking along the property, I search for her blonde head, growing more concerned as the minutes tick by. I begin to berate myself for being so careless. We’re in the middle of almost nothing, and I let her fucking vanish. It doesn’t matter that she’s lived here longer than I have or knows the land better than most. It’s my job to protect the women around me—a trait my father taught but didn’t practice. I should have been more vigilant. When I’m just about to call out her name, I hear something in the high grass. There, somewhat in the distance, a groan rings out. I step toward the sound, cautious and curious. Half a dozen feet later, I freeze, immediately regretting my curiosity.
Clara, in only a bra and panties, bends on both elbows with her ass in the air, hands clenching Kassidy’s naked hips. Kassidy, fingers on her tits, grinds against Clara’s face, doing everything in her power to suppress her moans—and failing.
I know I should move. My conscience is literally screaming at me to, but the surprise of it all keeps me still a moment too long. Clara looks up and gazes into Kassidy’s eyes, but feeling my presence, her stare shifts, and shock has her shooting away.
“Fuck!” she shouts at the same time Kassidy shrieks, “Shit!” Their horror finally breaks me out of my trance, and I frantically back away, apologizing profusely. I don’t turn back when they call my name. We all need just a fucking moment.
Not feeling like going back to the party, I wait by the cars, pacing between the vehicles with my bruised knuckles in my palm. The swelling around my wounds is beginning to darken, and I question how the fuck I’m going to hide this from my uncle. My thoughts don’t get very far before a frenzied Clara emerges from the trees, Kassidy a distance behind with her head to the ground.
“Cade,” Clara says, with a weight in her tone. There are tears in her eyes and a flush that brightly displays her fear. “Cade,” she utters again, voice cracking, “you can’t—Please. You can’tevertell anyone what you just saw. If my mom found out?—”
“Hey. Hey,” I whisper, rushing to take her quivering shoulders into my arms. I do what I can in an attempt to console her, but her tears run down my chest as her sobs grow louder. When she settles, and her body no longer quakes, I hold her at arm’s length and wait until her watery stare meets mine.
“I won’t tell a soul,” I vow. “It’s nobody’s fucking business anyway.”
Her thank you is full of tears, but I understand the sigh of relief and stress leaving her shoulders. Clara’s arms once again wrap around me, holding onto the knots in my back. “Thank you.”
“Course.” I wait a beat, making sure the timing is right when I say, “It was hot. I think I might need some tips from you.”
“Cade!” she shouts, punching me in a growing bruise. “You’re so stupid. Shut up.” At least she’s laughing again. Eventually, Kassidy breaks away from the lining of the trees to join us, the tension visible in her frame until I reassure her that their secret is safe with me. Her thank you is not nearly as heavy as Clara’s, and for that, I’m thankful. I wouldn’t know what to do with a second round of tears.
Sensing the night is over, Clara reaches for her keys. “Oh, hey. How’d you do? You look a little fucked up.” Kassidy,nodding in agreement, slips into the passenger seat, looking exhausted and on the verge of passing out. I explain every moment with a pride I can’t contain, detailing every match, explaining how I fought until my muscles refused to move and my mouth tasted of nothing but iron and skin.
“I won them all.”
“Fuckyes!” she shouts, high-fiving me from the front. “Let’s go again next time so I can win some money off you.”
“As long as you split those earnings.” I laugh.
“Deal.”
April 1992
For months, we never missed a week. After that first night, a passion I thought was dying bloomed. Finally, I had something to look forward to. Despite the beatings I would wake up to, I was excited every time a Friday came around.
“Fuck.” Groaning, I slowly curl up from my hay bed, feeling the weight of work and my uncle’s punches from the night before.
“You like this, right? This is what you want?”
I can still smell the undercooked steak on his breath when he grabbed me by the collar, fist cocked to take another swing. I was ready for it. Shit, I even took it without complaint. If that’s what he needed to make his point, then that’s fine. I was still going to fight. They should all be aware of this by now.
Besides, none of these beatings felt like the first one.
Clara dropped me off in the clearing before the barn, asking, “Are you sure I can’t bring you any closer?”
“Nah, I’m good. Thank you.” As carefully as I can, I pull my bike off the top of the car and ride off on flat tires into the field. I watch their taillights disappear into the growing fog, waiting until the vehicle is entirely out of sight before hightailing it home.
Pedaling as quickly as I am able, I find myself behind the property in minutes. Without triggering the lights, I place the bike where I found it and creep toward the bed. For a second, I believed everything was normal, that I did what I wanted and got away with it. When I pay closer attention, I realize how wrong I am.
The air feels different.
The animals are jittery in their stalls when they usually sleep the entire night. Sensing their anxiety, I slow my pace, swallowing my racing heart until I see my uncle leaning peacefully in my space.
He has the same rage in his eyes as my father, and that’s one thing I can’t slow my heart against.
The sun begins to creep through the open slats of the barn, giving him sight of all the bruises and split skin. As his gaze roams across each one, every bit of pain becomes amplified.
