The darkness eased.With its passing, she almost imagined he had been hurt to think she might not want to go.Given that they hadn’t been a family for years, it was a fanciful thought.
“I’d like to go to New York,” she surprised herself by saying.“And Palm Beach.I’ve never been there.It would be fun.”
A good deal of Pam’s fun lay in anticipating the trip.In a school as private and elite as hers was, everyone went away for spring break.Most went with their families, and Pam had always envied them.This time, she was looking forward to a family trip of her own.“My brother and I are going to New York, then on to Palm Beach,” she told whoever wanted to know.It didn’t matter that her brother had been her enemy for most of her life; there was something right about being with family.
She almost imagined that John felt the same way.In the weeks preceding the trip, he was uncharacteristically affable.He asked questions about school, not in the grilling way she hated but as though he were truly interested.He engaged her in discussions about the business.He complimented her on the way she looked.He even camehome with a pair of gold bangles that he had had one ofFacets’designers make especially for her.
“It’s weird,” she told Marcy the day before she and John were to leave.“All this just because I started studying?”
Marcy carefully wiped the corners of the window she was cleaning.After a thoughtful silence she said, “He’s proud of you.”
“He’s never been proud of me before.”
“But he puts store in school marks.They mean something to him.The pictures you draw don’t.”
Pam knew that, which was why she didn’t show him the things she showed Cutter.“Still, he’s been so polite.He actually held my coat for me when we were going out last week.There has to be a reason.”
Marcy considered that while she cleaned another pane.“He’s getting older.Maybe he’s tired of the fighting.”
“Maybe.”
“And you’re getting older.Maybe he sees that.”
No doubt he saw the physical growth.But he hadn’t relented on his threat, which Pam thought he’d surely do if he trusted her as an adult.Of course, Marcy knew nothing about that threat, and Pam had no intention of telling her.
“Maybe.”She took a deep breath.“He’s probably thinking that when I turn eighteen I’ll be able to control my own stock in the company.I’ll be attending shareholders’ meetings.I could make things tough for him.Maybe he’s scared.”It was a lovely thought, to have a little power for a change.
Moving to another pane, Marcy wet it with her sponge.“Don’t jinx it, Pammy.The peace is good.”
Pam agreed, which was why she stopped asking questions and left with John the next morning for New York.Even more so than she had expected, he did things first class.The suite at the Pierre was large and sumptuous, the restaurants they ate at were lavish in food and decor, their theater seats were front and center.Although Hillary spent the weekend with them, John never left Pam alone, and while one part of Pam felt guilty about that, the other enjoyed the attention.
Monday morning, Pam and John flew south.Again their accommodations were without fault, and although John did leave Pam by the pool while he saw to business, she was happy enough there not to mind.The sun was bright, the water warm, the lifeguard friendly.She was feeling grown-up and attractive when John took her out to dinner, particularly when he kept her wineglass filled.He smiled at her with what she could have sworn was true affection, brushed a long wisp of hair from her bare shoulder, even put an arm around her as they left.She felt sheltered and cared for, warm and content, when, muzzied by the wine, she fell asleep on top of the covers.
She didn’t know what time it was when she woke up.The room was dark, and she was on her stomach, but John’s voice came to her quickly.It was low and gentle.“You’re still dressed, honey.That’s no way to sleep.”She felt her zipper open, felt the air whisper over her back.
“I can do it,” she murmured, but she was too groggy to move.
“I’ve got it.”
He slipped the dress down past her hips, rolled herover,and took it off.When he started on her stockings, she made a slurred protest.“John, really—”
“Let me.It’s my fault.I should have known you weren’t used to drinking.”
Exhausted, she lay back and let herself be taken care of.It had been a long time since anyone had catered to her quite so intimately.The luxury of it sent her off into a dreamy state.She imagined that Cutter was with her, that he was the one rolling down her stockings, unhooking her garter belt, removing her bra, then her panties.She imagined that his hands were the ones touching her body lightly and sweetly, making her moan.
When she opened her eyes, though, Cutter wasn’t the one looming over her.“John?”She fought for clarity.It was dark, hard to see.“John?Oh, my God!”She tried to scramble away, but he held her to him.
“No, no,” he whispered.“Don’t be frightened.You liked what I was doing.”
She twisted away.“You shouldn’t—we shouldn’t—” He followed the twist and took her breast in his hand.“Don’t, John!”
“It’ll be good.”His mouth was against her throat.“I’ll make it good.”
“No!”She writhed against the arm that restrained her, bucked against the one that slid down her body.“God, John,don’t do that!”
“If you fight, it’ll hurt.”
Fully awake and aware that she was a poor match for his strength, Pam clawed at the hand that had slipped between her legs.“God no, God no, God no,” she whispered.She twisted and turned, tried to get a foothold onthe bed and push herself away, but he was half on top of her, his semiclad body large and hard as a rock.“You’re mybrother.You can’t do this, John!Don’t, oh, pleasedon’t!”
