Michael would cover his ears and let his fury drown out the sound. He would think of other things and try not to imagine what was happening in his sister’s room.
He would also flay himself with an imaginary switch for not being brave enough to break down Sarah’s door and stop the man’s punishment.
His mother would be down in the kitchen humming. Sometimes even singing a hymn. She never stopped her husband, the father of her fucking children, from those types of lessons.
She never comforted Sarah afterward, either.
That was why Michael did.
Until he ran away and no one was left to comfort Sarah at all.
Rev squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers curled into fists and he left the room of his youth to head back downstairs.
Back then, his father had been larger than life. Now? Now he was just a shell of a bitter, abusive man.
Waiting for his end.
An end that better happen soon.
Chapter Eight
Reilly groaned and rolled over, swiping at both the wet and dry drool clinging to the corner of her mouth.
She was never drinking that much again.
Eeeeeever.
Her head pounded, her tongue had turned into a wad of cotton and, apparently, her eyes had remained wide open during a sandstorm. On the bright side, she had slept like the damn dead.
Only moving her eyes—because everything else was on strike—her gaze swept the empty bed.
Rev’s bed.
She shot up so fast, she groaned again and slapped a hand to her forehead to keep her brain from spinning like one of those old rotor rides at a carnival. The kind of ride that spun the hell out of you, the centrifugal force sticking you to the side before the floor dropped out.
Yeah, that one. Where you risked losing a limb.
That was what her head felt like. Only, she wouldn’t lose a limb, she might lose her cookies.
If she had any. Her stomach was a deep, empty pit. Food would be a good idea to help with the hangover. Especially a big greasy breakfast like they served at Dino’s Diner. Unfortunately, they were about three and a half hours from Manning Grove and Rev was nowhere to be found.
Wait.
Did they have drunken sex last night?
She glanced down, relieved—okay, maybe not so relieved—to find she was still wearing his T-shirt over her sexy, silky PJs. Her effort to get him to break last night was foiled by his insisting on her covering up with the plain, boring cotton shirt. Along with them both getting stoned and drunk out of their minds.
She not only needed food to sop up the alcohol still surging through her veins, but a gallon of water to relieve her dehydration.
But first…
She slid her hand under Rev’s T-shirt and into her silky shorts to find herself bone dry down there, too.
She glanced around, looking for any empty condom wrappers.
None.
She didn’t know whether to be pleased he didn’t take advantage of her or disappointed. But then, if they had sex, she wouldn’t have remembered it. That in itself would’ve been disappointing. Because the first time she had sex with Rev, she definitely wanted to remember it.
That was right, she thought it: the first time. If it was up to her, it was going to happen not only once, but maybe a few more times before leaving Coatesville.
Doing it here, away from home, they could have a little fun without the risk of getting caught. And nobody had to know.
Only the two of them.
The problem was, she had to get Rev onboard with her plan. That meant tonight couldn’t be a repeat of last night, where both of them ended up passed out.
Moving as slow as a turtle, she leaned over, snagged her phone and hit the side button to light it up.
It was almost freaking noon! No wonder she was hungry.
She frowned at the flashing indicator that told her she had a text message. Opening up the text app, she saw she had several text messages. One from Tessa. One from Saylor. Two from her sister, but only one from Rev.
She read his first. B back L8R
Be back later?
That was sent around nine this morning.
“Oh shit,” she whispered. Did he go back to his parents’ house without her? Without someone along to keep him from committing murder when his dad acted like a dick and treated his only son like he was an unwanted nobody?
She typed a text back: Where are U?
Staring at her phone, she waited. Nothing.
She texted again. R U out getting food?
“C’mon, Rev, answer. Please don’t say you’re back at that house by yourself,” she murmured.
After a few more minutes without an answer, she sighed and tapped her phone on her bare thigh while she considered her options.
Besides showering. That was a given. Brushing off the fuzz that grew on her teeth overnight, too. That was a guarantee.
But between her cotton mouth and her hunger pangs, she really needed to grab something out of the vending machine by the office to at least tide her over before her body started eating itself. However, she couldn’t do it the way she was dressed. And without shoes or money.
When she stood, she threw her arms out for balance and waited until the room stopped rotating before heading back to her side of the connected motel rooms.
She yanked on his interior door and it didn’t budge. He’d locked it. She unlocked and opened the door, then tried her side and that was locked, too.
Huh.
She frowned. She left both doors open last night. Why would he lock them?
She grabbed her room’s keycard, flipped the hinge-y lock-y thingy to keep the exterior door in Rev’s room propped open an inch and to keep from getting locked out, and hurried over to her own exterior door.
She inserted the card into the slot and it blinked red.
What the hell?
She tried it again. Flashing red.
Did she have his room card by mistake?
She went back into his room and glanced around, not finding any other keycard. But what she did find was her backpack was no longer in her room where she’d left it. It was now sitting on the floor next to his. In his room.
In her stupor, did she grab it sometime during the night? Had she needed something out of it?
She unzipped it and dug through her stuff to find everything still where she packed it, along with the toiletries she had placed in the bathroom next door.
Someone had stuck all of her products, including her makeup, back in her bag.
Was that someone her?
No. Couldn’t have been. If she was so drunk she couldn’t remember doing it, how could she actually do it?
She stood, pursed her lips and stared at her bag for a few minutes while scratching the back of her neck.
So damn strange.
Unless…
She hurried back outside, leaving that metal hinge-y thingy in place again so she didn’t get locked out and tried her keycard in Rev’s lock this time. The light turned a solid green.
Son of a fucking bitch.
Had he taken her keycard by mistake and left his?
She stood on the threshold, only wearing her PJs covered by Rev’s T-shirt and stared inside the room, trying to determine what all of that meant or if it meant anything at all. Maybe it was just a simple mistake.
Speaking of his T-shirt… She fisted the cotton and shoved it against her nose.
Shit. Whiskey and pot. That could be the scent for any of the guys. Whiskey, beer, pussy, pot, leather and tobacco combo made up the typical Fury fragrance.