too,” he whispered. He kissed her cheek and she put her arms around him. She could feel him pressed against her, knew what he wanted.
“I love you,” she said.
His hand traveled to her breast. She waited for the squeeze, but it didn’t come. Instead, he caressed it gently. Despite herself, her nipple began to harden and she hated it but she couldn’t help it. His breath was hot. Boozy.
“God, you’re beautiful. You’ve always been beautiful, from the first time I saw you.” He pressed himself harder against her and she could feel him. “Let’s hold off on putting the steaks in,” he said. “Dinner can wait for a little while.”
“I thought you were hungry.” She made it sound like a tease.
“I’m hungry for something else right now,” he whispered. He unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it open before moving to the snap on her jeans.
“Not here,” she said, leaning her head back, letting him continue to kiss her. “In the bedroom, okay?”
“How about the table? Or on the counter instead?”
“Please, baby,” she murmured, her head back as he kissed her neck. “That’s not very romantic.”
“But it’s sexy,” he said.
“What if someone sees us through the window?”
“You’re no fun,” he said.
“Please?” she said again. “For me? You know how hot you make me in bed.”
He kissed her once more, his hands traveling to her bra. He unsnapped it from the front; he didn’t like bras that snapped in the back. She felt the cold air of the kitchen on her breasts; saw the lust in his face as he stared at them. He licked his lips before leading her to the bedroom.
He was almost frenzied as soon as they got there, working her jeans down around her hips, then to her ankles. He squeezed her breasts and she bit her lip to keep from crying out before they fell onto the bed. She panted and moaned and called his name, knowing he wanted her to do those things, because she didn’t want him to be angry, because she didn’t want to be slapped or punched or kicked, because she didn’t want him to know about the phone. Her kidney was still shooting pain and she changed her cries into moans, saying the things he wanted her to say, turning him on until his body started to spasm. When it was over, she got up from the bed, dressed, and kissed him, then she went back to the kitchen and finished making dinner.
Kevin went back to the living room and drank more vodka before going to the table. He told her about work and then went to watch television again while she cleaned the kitchen. Afterward, he wanted her to sit beside him and watch television so she did, until it was finally time to turn in.
In the bedroom, he was snoring within minutes, oblivious to Katie’s silent tears, oblivious to her hatred of him, her hatred of herself. Oblivious to the money she’d been stashing away for almost a year or the hair dye she’d snuck into the grocery cart a month ago and hidden in the closet, oblivious to the cell phone hidden in the cupboard beneath the kitchen sink. Oblivious to the fact that in just a few days, if all went the way she hoped, he would never see or hit her ever again.
19
Katie sat beside Alex on the porch, the sky above them a black expanse dotted with light. For months, she’d tried to block out the specific memories, focusing only on the fear that had been left behind. She didn’t want to remember Kevin, didn’t want to think about him. She wanted to erase him entirely, to pretend he never existed. But he would always be there.
Alex had stayed silent throughout her story, his chair angled toward hers. She’d spoken through her tears, though he doubted she even knew she was crying. She’d told him without emotion, almost in a trance, as if the events had happened to someone else. He felt sick to his stomach by the time she’d trailed off.
She couldn’t look at him as she told him. He’d heard versions of the same story before, but this time it was different. She wasn’t simply a victim, she was his friend, the woman he’d come to love, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
At his touch, she flinched slightly before relaxing. He heard her sigh, tired now. Tired of talking. Tired of the past.