I was so thirsty I couldn't stand it anymore. My throat is raw and aching. Advil didn't cut the pain, and water did nothing. By two in the morning I was frantic and resigned at the same time so I ducked out from underneath Lochlan's arm, pushed away the extra elbow and knee Ben had thrown towards us as he sleeps soundly on his back on my other side, pull on Ben's long t-shirt, discarded on the couch an hour previous (it's still warm) and head downstairs in search of my beloved witching-hour orange juice.
There isn't any left in the kitchen so I venture into the butler's pantry. It's down the hall just before you reach the bathroom and then head down the steps to the side door. The row of windows in the hall is uncovered. Rain drives in sheets down the glass. It's so loud.
I check the other fridge and am rewarded with a new jug. I pour myself a glass and put the jug back and then take a long drink in the dark. My throat instantly feels soothed and the sugar flooding into my blood feels right. I decide to take my glass upstairs with me and pick it up to turn when I am pressed into the counter, arms sliding around my shoulders, taking the glass, putting it down so I don't drop it.
A kiss lands against the back of my neck and I smell clean soap as his hand clamps over my mouth (and nose) resulting in a struggle that I lose, as I am lifted up and bent forward, facedown against the counter, my head on the cool granite. My t-shirt is lifted up and then he is inside me, piercing me and I can't breathe and I keep fighting until I am unable to move at all. Everything hurts.
His elbow hits the glass and it falls over, spilling the juice out in a wide circle as it rolls across the counter to the edge and smashes on the floor. No one's going to hear it. We're in a whole separate wing. He bears down harder still and I feel tears leaking from the corners of my eyes down over his hand. I am sad that he just takes what he needs. I would have gone to him had I known. I don't know why he has to follow me into the dark and then leave me behind in it all the time. I don't know why his default state is monster. I don't know why it works so much better between us when it hurts-
I don't know why he won't let me breathe. He hikes me up higher, harder against the counter and as he comes I whimper involuntarily and he slows, pulling away, sliding me back down painfully, turning me around. I fight him. I close my eyes. I don't want to look at him. Don't want to know this is what he still is. I'm so tired of his evil-
Bridget. Are you okay? I said if you walked into the pantry like that, just wearing a shirt that I would follow you. I just came down for a snack and then I saw you and started talking to you-I thought you were vexing me when you didn't resp...Oh my God. Oh my God.
I didn't hear a word. Didn't hear a thing. The rain was drowning out every warning sign and I didn't even know Gage was there.
***
Gage is gone already. He didn't say goodbye. As far as I can see he didn't take any of his things either, though for all I know most of this belongs to the others, like the acoustic guitar and at least two of these flannels folded neatly on the back of the chair. Schuyler tells me they'll get the rest of his things together and simply refuses to answer when I ask where Gage went, telling me only that he doesn't live here anymore. He rolls up his shirt-sleeves as he stands in the guest room, sets a grim expression and tries to be patient with me.
Right, he was only back in the main house due to the quarantine-
He doesn't live on the point, anymore, Bridget.
This isn't his fault-
Silence isn't consent. Jesus Christ, Bridget-
It wasn't malicious, Sky. Tell him I'm sorry-
That doesn't matter. My stupid half brother propositioned a deaf women in the dark when she was alone and didn't hear him and then took advantage. HE fucked up. Not you. He'd be lucky if he didn't get jail time but we'll see how generous the rest of them are about this.
They would go to jail first. I remind him. I was twelve years old.
You were eleven, and that still doesn't mean he can stay here, does it?