What The Cat Dragged In Ch. 14

"Good. Then we're gonna start again. What haven't you told me?"

Tears flowed more freely. He felt her body go limp, as if resigned. "All I know is how he treated Cody, my mother and me."

His hand tightened on her wrist. "Then why is he coming after you this hard?"

"I don't know!" She sounded desperate, but there was no deception in it.

"What about CoH business. You said Dawes was gathering information."

"Dawes hadn't gotten very far. Just basics that anyone who lived in the area would know. Victor, please, I wouldn't keep something like that from you." The little sob at the end of her statement brought back that unaccustomed ache, and it was stronger than before.

"Doesn't make sense, frail."

"I know that!" Another choked sob. "If you're going to break it, just do it and get it over with because I don't know what else to say."

He pushed a little further, she cried out. He could feel the strain on the joint. "Where'd he work?"

She took several deep, gasping breaths. "H-his study, but we weren't even allowed near the door while he was in there. It had the only phone and the only computer in the house. Unless he told us something, we didn't..." As much pain as he knew she was in, something changed in her body. "Oh God."

He eased the pressure slowly. That drew a fresh flow of tears as blood rushed in to strained flesh. "What?" His voice was still harsh.

"The basement. There was an air duct. I could hear everything he said." Her voice trembled.

He knew the realization was as new to her as it was to him. He lowered her arm, but kept her pinned to the wall with his forearm on her upper back.

"What did you hear?"

"I don't know."

He growled. "Frail-"

"I only listened so I could keep my sanity. I used it to get a sense of what time it was and what day it was. I had no idea what was important and what wasn't. I didn't even understand half of it." She was shaking. "I'm so sorry." She was swallowing her sobs. "I shouldn't have dragged you into any of this-"

He lowered his arm, but kept her between his body and the wall. She flinched when he stroked her shoulder. The fear rolled off of her in waves. Diffuse ache turned to cutting pain that tore through his chest. He waited until she was still, then started squeezing and rubbing carefully. Her tremors eased slowly. "He's gonna be sorry." He stepped away from her. "Get some sleep."

He turned and left quickly before she could say anything.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Kelly had learned the value of frozen peas when she was eight years old and broke her wrist while trying to skateboard down a particularly steep hill near her house. Her mother had dithered between hyperventilating and lecturing. Her father had wrapped a bag of frozen peas around her wrist and took her to the hospital. Since coming to live with Victor, she made sure that there were always several bags in the freezer.

She got out of bed and refroze her current ice pack and got some ibuprofen instead. She curled up in bed in the dimly lit cabin. Victor had been gone for hours. She'd been trying to remember what she'd heard, and what about it could have been so important. Everything was running together. Lunch dates made with disembodied voices blended with confessions of marital infidelity and well-practiced sermons. None of it seemed important enough to make it dangerous or even interesting to anyone else.

She heard the door open and Victor sit heavily on the floor. Next, she heard him set a bottle down. It sounded too big to be a beer bottle. After a few minutes of silence, she got up and approached him. An empty bottle of Jack Daniel's sat on the stone fireplace surround. She knew it had been nearly full when he left.

"Thought you were sleeping." He didn't turn to look at her.

"I couldn't." She moved closer and saw dried blood around and underneath his claws.

"'Cause of your arm?"

"No. Because I can't think of anything I know that's so terrible."

He looked over his shoulder at her, then moved over. She sat next to him and leaned against his arm. Kelly closed her eyes and took in the smell of wood smoke, alcohol, cold night air and the baser scents of blood and sweat. It was uniquely him, and the most comforting thing she could think of at that moment. He leaned slightly into her.

"Did you really think I would lie to you about this?" Her voice was soft.

"Frail, people been lyin' to me for as long as I can remember for more reasons than I can count. Half the time I think it was just for the hell of it. A long time ago I figured out the quickest way to get the truth and stuck with it." He stared at the embers of the fire. "'F you want, I'll take you to Joe's house."

"I don't want to go there." She took his hand, ignoring the gore. "I want to go to bed. With you."

"I could've-"

"Did you want to?"

He looked at her quickly, his eyes locked on hers. She noticed that there were flecks of dried blood on his chin and neck too. The corner of his mouth twitched. "Broken frail ain't no good to me." His voice was far softer than his words.