He imagined the cool crisp water flowing down his throat, soothing the dryness, easing the ache of hunger that was always present, hydrating his dry lips, healing them.
Always that glass sat there, always slightly beyond his reach.
Always…
* * *
A new memory—how could I have forgotten? That fucking glass of water still tormented me. Again, I sat in the kitchen, staring at it. Never drinking it. Only that tiny sip that had barely wet my tongue the other night when Jade bothered me about it. The sip had felt wrong, like I deserved punishment for taking it. I didn’t know why. I drank plenty of water. I didn’t get dehydrated at all, but that midnight glass of water—the one that I poured myself, added ice to, and sat on the table before me—that was the one I couldn’t touch.
I hadn’t seen Jade since this morning—yesterday morning, since it was after midnight—when I left her bedroom. I assumed she went to work and then came home. I hadn’t gotten home from Grand Junction until nearly eleven.
Julie’s words rang in my mind. Okay, maybe another time…
But I knew then and I knew now. There would be no other time with her or with anyone.
Until I got Jade Roberts out of my system, I wouldn’t be with other women.
Fatigue gripped me. God, I was so fucking tired. Always tired. If only I could get one whole night of sleep…
I looked over at the full glass of water, condensation forming on the outside of the glass. And again the maniacal laughter… I could still hear all three of them in my ears, laughing at me, taunting me with that glass of water.
I stood. “Damn it!” I said aloud. I picked up that fucking glass of water and hurled it onto the floor where it shattered into hundreds of little pieces.
Then I sat back down in the chair, letting the darkness take me, my head in my hands. Melancholy enveloped me. Sadness overtook me.
But I didn’t cry.
* * *
“You want that water, boy?”
The boy nodded. It would do no good, but he nodded anyway as he always did. Maybe this would be the one time when they felt sorry enough for him to give him the water.
“I’ll give you the water if you cry, boy,” Tattoo said, his eyes glowing beneath his black mask. “Go ahead. Cry for it. Cry like the little pansy you are.”
The boy was all cried out. There probably wasn’t enough water in his body to make tears.
But that water—that tall, clear glass of water—pulsed like a heartbeat. It was laughing too, ridiculing him, jabbing at him.
“You can’t have me. They’ll never let you have me…”
The boy closed his eyes, squeezing them together, desperately trying to conjure just one tear, even knowing that he still wouldn’t get the water if he cried. He bore down, clenched all his muscles, trying, trying…
“Come on, boy. Just cry for me. Cry one tear, and I’ll let you have the water.”
The boy didn’t cry.
* * *
The next morning, I rose early and walked into the kitchen to clean up the mess I’d left. I didn’t want anyone slipping and getting hurt. Leaving the shattered glass and water on the floor had been self-indulgent. Two others lived in this house, and I had no right to put them in danger.
To my surprise, the kitchen floor was spotless. Felicia hadn’t come in yet, so either Jade or Marjorie had cleaned it up. My sister wasn’t known as an early riser, but she was used to my outbursts every now and then. I hoped it had been her. Otherwise Jade would come to me, asking a bunch of questions I didn’t want to answer. That I couldn’t answer.
It was a quarter to six, and I wanted to head out to the orchards early since I’d spent all yesterday morning shirking my duties. I had been pretty lax about the orchard lately, and I figured Jonah was due to stop by anytime to give me one of his big brother lectures on pulling my weight. I sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to listen to him, especially since he would be right.
I was rinsing out the coffee carafe when Marjorie loped up behind me.
“I cleaned up your mess earlier.”
Thank God. I didn’t turn around. I measured coffee out of the grinder.
“You might’ve left a note or something. I could’ve cut the hell out of my foot, you know.”
I couldn’t argue. She was right. I shouldn’t have left that mass. What if she—or Jade?—had slipped and fallen on the broken glass? It could’ve been pretty nasty.
I turned. “You’re right. I’m really”—I hacked the dreaded word from my lips as it kicked and screamed to stay put—“sorry.”
“I’m just glad I found it this morning instead of Jade. It would have freaked her out. She should be up pretty soon. I think she meets Ryan over at the winery at nine.”
I poured water into the coffee maker and pressed start. “Today’s Saturday.”
“True. I don’t know if she’s working over there on Saturdays.”
“What are you doing up, Sis? You’re not usually an early riser, especially not on the weekend.”