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What will I do when it does?
The answers elude me like ghosts, but there are two people in this house who can give them to me.
I know what I must do.
With trembling limbs, I remove the chair from the door and take a hesitant step into the hall, my senses still reeling from the shock.
Stillness whispers through the cabin. Darkness waits at the bottom of the stairs.
I turn toward Wolf’s room, the path uncertain, fraught with the remnants of his anger. Yet, as my feet move across the floor, a newfound resolve courses through me.
Amid the wreckage of my ruined life, a flicker of determination emerges, a quiet vow that I will not be defined by the horrors of Hoss.
In Wolf’s room, a small light glows on the nightstand.
Not taking any chances, I close the door behind me and brace a chair beneath the handle. Then I turn and focus all my attention on the unmoving body in the bed, on the defiled face. So much hurt in those blue eyes, so much exhaustion, staring back at me.
Pulling back the blanket, I climb in beside him. Lying on our sides, face to face, we reach for each other. Our hands come together between us, fingers entwined.
I kiss his painted smile from lips to ears. He doesn’t kiss me back, but the cheeks beneath my mouth grow warm and flushed. How many times has he needed that over the years? How many nights?
“I know why you’re here.” His black lashes lift, revealing watchful eyes.
“I need to make sense of this.”
“You can’t make sense of the senseless.”
“No. But I can outlive it if I have all the facts.”
“You can try.” He sighs. “Ask your questions.”
“When was the first time he assaulted you?”
“I was eight.”
His words slam into me, a tidal wave of shock. My heart seizes, and my breath stutters, smothering me in aching, all-consuming sorrow.
I can’t open my throat. Can’t unlock my jaw. It takes me too long to respond, and when I finally do, my voice convulses. “You were just a child. You didn’t deserve that. I would give anything to rewind time and be there for you.”
“You’re here now.” He pulls our clasped hands to his chest. “Thank you for not smacking me over the head with pity. That would’ve been gross.”
“Pity? I’m fucking enraged. I’m goddamn murderous.”
“Easy.”
“What about your brothers? Has he hurt them the same way? When they were young?”
“Of course. I’m not special. Leo was the first, but Kody was the favorite.”
Gut-wrenching. My gut literally wrenches as I imagine them then. Three boys. Three children. Hard to envision them as such. Even harder to think about what they’ve endured in this place at that age, motherless and alone.
My eyes sting as I consider my role in this and the threats I face. “Does he have a preference? Boys only or…?”
“Either. Any. He has a size preference. He likes small, malleable bodies that he can easily overpower.”
“Children.”
“Yes. But not limited to that perversion. He also fancies tiny women.”
A conversation I had with Leo comes rushing back.
“Just because I’m small, doesn’t mean I’m powerless.”
“That’s exactly what it means. It’s why he took you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I wager you’re the smallest woman he’s come across. He saw your size—childlike and just as helpless—”
“I’m not helpless.”
“—and knew you’d be easy to overpower.”
My pulse thuds in my throat. “That’s why he kidnapped me.”
“That’s one of the reasons. You’re also incredibly beautiful.”
“But he hasn’t touched me.”
“That would’ve changed tonight.”
“Why? Why did he wait?”
“He waited until we cared about you, until he was certain we would protect you to the point of giving up something valuable in exchange for your safety.”
Until they give up their bodies, their consent, their submission.
After I watched that very thing unfold tonight with Wolf, I know it’s true. “He wants you to surrender. But why is that important? Why not just take what he wants?”
“You may not believe this, but Denver despises violence. When we were kids, he didn’t have to force us. We were weak and guileless and mostly obedient. He controlled us through fear and kin punishment. Overpowering us was easy. Then we grew bigger, stronger than him. We fought back.”
“Kody’s scars.”
“Kody suffered the most.” His tone lowers. “Denver didn’t enjoy hurting him. After a few years of fighting Kody—and by fighting, I mean strapping him down, beating him until exhaustion, and taking him by force—Denver couldn’t stomach it anymore.”
“A few years?” My chest constricts.
“Kody doesn’t surrender. Not even as a child. And, well, Denver wants us willing. He wants submission. That’s where you come in.”
“The devil’s bargain.”
“It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Wish I could take credit for the epithet, but that was all Leo. He also came up with the name for this place.”
Impatience swells as my head pounds with questions. We’re getting off topic. But he’s talking. I need him to keep talking, so I ask, “Why did he name it Hoss?”
