“We did that yesterday,” Penny said, though she clearly didn’t mind giving up the rodeo. “Can we go to Bonny Lake?”
Although Penny had been to the small waterfront swim park with other friends and their moms, Ruth had avoided the place, only because it was a vague reminder of another, more desolate lake of summers gone by. But if she was going to insist that Lily face her fears, then Ruth would need to move in that direction too.
“Let’s pack some snacks and drinks,” Ruth said. “And don’t forget sunscreen.”
An hour later, Ruth was backing a car full of girls out of the driveway when she saw something sticking out of the mailbox. Huh. There was no mail delivery on the Fourth of July or on Sunday. She put the car in PARK and opened her door.
“Mom? Come on!” Penny called to her.
“Just one second.” She grabbed the large, gold envelope, closed the box, and returned to the van to stash it in her tote bag. “Okay, girls, we are rolling.”
The swim park was more crowded than usual, but Ruth helped Penny and her friends stake out a spot in the shade of the tall pines where they could spread out the blanket and set up. Although two teenaged lifeguards watched over the swimmers from tall chairs, Ruth was glad to have her camp chair set up close enough to the shoreline that she could watch the girls in the water.
At half past the hour, the lifeguards pulled all the kids out of the water for a ten-minute safety break, and Ruth counted the four girls huddled together on the dock before turning to her bag for her cell phone. That was when she remembered the gold envelope.
She removed it quickly, noticing it was unstamped, without an address. Probably from the landlord. Curious, she opened it and pulled out a single sheet of paper—a photo.
Three naked girls.
Fear seeped through her as she recognized the sixteen-year-old version of herself standing on the dock, shoulders hunched in embarrassment. Next to her, a more confident Kat was reaching up to swipe dark, wet hair from her face. At the edge of the dock stood Shiloh, a proud, golden lioness with arms extended overhead, as if enjoying the sheen of lake water cascading down her body in rivulets.
One fuzzy black-and-white photo, and the bottom dropped out of her world.
He was here, watching her, wanting something.
With trembling hands, she grabbed her phone.
*
Sunglasses offered the best camouflage; no one could see that he was staring. At a picnic table nearby, he tuned out the perennial chatter of her voice and scanned the teenage girls lethargically sunbathing, their flat bellies shiny with lotion, a tiny triangle of cloth covering the area begging to be plundered. Something about seeing girls near water turned him rock solid every time.
It had to be ninety in the shade as he watched. Part of him wished one of the older ones would take a little jog into the wooded trail at the edge of the park so that he could take her here in the bushes. But . . . no. He didn’t need any more young ones. He had one at home. A young, pretty one. Hot body, but lacking in experience.
But that Ruth . . . she was older and experienced enough to know her way around a man’s body. She would know when to go soft and when to ride hard. Nothing like a woman with experience.
The sight of all these kids at the water reminded him of that long-ago night when he came upon the three girls skinny-dipping. He flashed to the memory—the three of them naked together.
He’d thought they were a gift from God, but no. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Just a short taste of Ruth, and then they had gotten away.
But not forever. And he owed them all for what they’d done to him. He rubbed the back of his right hand with the fingers of his left, then touched his forehead. They’d attacked him, the damn whores. He was pretty sure it was Patrick Starr’s daughter who’d gotten him with the screwdriver. Bitch! He’d make her pay all right, when the time came.
But now, staring at Ruth, he wanted to just dive inside her. Fiery red hair, ripe breasts, shapely legs that would wrap around him nice and tight. Ruth would be a good fit. And this time, he would not let her go.
*
She found it difficult to focus on Kat’s voice as she watched Penny and her friends take turns diving from the dock. Something about clearing her morning schedule.
“He sent Shiloh a photo too,” Kat said. “She just let me know. Sounds like the same one.”
“He sent her one too?” Hearing her voice rise, Ruth stopped herself, then whispered, “What the hell does he want from us?”
The silence on the phone indicated that there was no good answer to that question.
“I can have the night patrol come by your house,” Kat suggested. “Or maybe you want to pack up your daughter and stay with your parents for a while.”
“Not my parents. Ethan is going to help me.”
“Ethan, my brother?”
“He’s going to stay at my place until this blows over.”
“Okay.” Kat sounded a bit nonplussed, but then said, “Glad you’re not alone. With the way things are developing, it’s good you’re coming in tomorrow, Ruth.”
Wide girth, furry skin, thick hands.
Ruth vividly remembered the taste, look, and feel of that evil.
Closing her mind to the dark memories, Ruth thanked God for Ethan—for the love and protection he was offering so soon in their relationship. The stoic part of her told her that it was too much too soon, that she was a professional woman capable of taking care of herself. But in reality, those arguments were riddled with cracks and holes, like the metaphorical wall she had constructed to keep people out when she was raped. The wall had been built upon fear; it was time to bring it tumbling down.
Time to recognize her own humanity, her need for love and protection.
Shivering despite the heat, Ruth counted the girls on the dock for the umpteenth time. Everyone was safe, and she planned to keep it that way.
Part Four
Kat
Chapter 21
Katrina brushed her teeth with vigor and spat toothpaste into the sink. She looked at her reflection in the mirror: serious brown eyes, messy dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, gleaming white teeth, and— She turned quickly to the toilet as bile rose in her throat, leaned down, and promptly threw up blood. She gasped in horror at the sight, breathing so fast and hard she thought she might pass out. Then she realized the color came from Betty Ann’s red velvet cupcakes, which had called to her yesterday afternoon after she left work; she’d brought home a half dozen more, eating them for last night’s dinner and today’s breakfast. Not the healthiest meals on record, but then she hadn’t been making the best food and drink choices for a while. She pretty much fueled up on whatever was handiest. It was a bad routine that she swore she was going to fix, but she hadn’t managed that yet.
Relieved, she flushed the toilet, then rinsed her mouth under the faucet and began the tooth-brushing process again.
Pregnant.
The word slipped into her consciousness unbidden, and she immediately dismissed it. Nope. Not pregnant.