The One You Feed Read online

  He leapt from the bed and dragged her off by her hair. Dana cried out as he hurled her to the floor. She tried to rise, but he kicked her stomach, forcing the air from her lungs.

  “Garrett, stop,” she gasped. “Please, I tried to tell you so many times, but you wouldn’t let me. You always talked over me, and whenever I mentioned him, you got angry. I was afraid to say anything. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to do it.” God, why didn’t she tell him? He must feel so betrayed. She tried to stand, but the pain in her abdomen made her legs weak.

  “You told me there was no one else,” he said. “Lying fucking whore is what you are. I bet you had a good laugh, didn’t you? You let me go on and on about being your first. Let me think I’d be the only one. Garrett the fucking moron, is that it?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Who was it?” he asked.

  “I didn’t want to do it.”

  He advanced a step. “Not what I asked you.”

  Tell him it was someone else. But then he’d want a name. She didn’t have one to give.

  He kicked her leg. “Who?”

  She shook her head.

  “Give me a name or you won’t leave this fucking trailer.”

  “Marcus. Okay? Marcus raped me.”

  Garrett’s mouth dropped open. “You fucked your brother?”

  Dana reached out, but he jerked back.

  “You sick bitch…” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Christ, Dana. Your brother?”

  “I didn’t want to. He forced me to do it, and—”

  “Shut your lying mouth,” Garrett brought his arm up.

  Pain exploded on the right side of her head.

  —

  Garrett sat on the steps of the trailer, head in his hands. He didn’t know what to believe. While he’d always suspected something was off about Marcus, he’d never imagined this. Probably why the poor fucker killed himself. But why would she lie to him about it? If she loved him, she’d trust him. At the very least, she’d have told her fucking parents.

  He pushed both hands through his hair. He didn’t want to hit her; didn’t even know he’d done it until she lay on the floor. Fuck, she should have told him. She didn’t have to say who she’d been with. Could’ve let him know he wouldn’t be the first. Instead, she played games. Let him believe she was innocent.

  What’s a man supposed to do when his wife lies about something so important? He teaches her a lesson and then she knows not to do it again. Why should he feel bad? His dad never felt bad. He did what had to be done.

  “I’m a man now,” Garrett murmured to the moon. “The man lays down the law.”

  His perfect wife was tainted. He was right to punish her. Right or wrong, Garrett felt sick. Damn her for making him do something so ugly on such a beautiful day.

  CHAPTER 10

  “You’re kidding me.” Ronny searched Vicki’s face for signs of a joke. She liked to mess with his head, especially when he was stoned.

  She took the joint from his fingers, drew it to her lips, and inhaled deeply. “No joke. About three months, the doctor says.”

  Ronny took the joint back and stood. “Why are you smoking this shit? You can’t get high when you’re pregnant. Maybe you should get rid of it.”

  “The pot?”

  “The kid.”

  “How could you even suggest I get rid of a part of me? Of us?”

  “Shit, Vick, what are we going to do with a kid?”

  She stood, hands on her still flat belly. “You don’t have to do anything. You’ll drive, and I’ll raise her.”

  “Her?”

  “I’ve always wanted a little girl, just like me.”

  Ronny snorted.

  She glared.

  “Come on, why curse the poor kid before she’s even born?”

  Vicki picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it at him. “Fuck you. Maybe we can have a little retard, just like his daddy.”

  She smirked, and then squealed when he lunged at her.

  Pinning her to the floor, his hands at her throat, Ronny struggled for control. “Take it back.”

  “You’ll hurt the baby,” she gasped. “Then you’ll go to jail, know what they do to retards in jail?”

  Ronny saw red, then white. Ever since she’d met his dad, and Warren had bitched him out in front of her, Vicki had taunted him with the word.

  “Take it back,” he warned.

  She pushed at his hands. “Ow, shit, Ron. Okay, I take it back. God, you’re such sissy.”

  Ronny released her and backed away slowly. “We can’t keep it,” he said, although the idea struggled for a hold in his mind. His baby. He walked to the little window next to the couch. Across the street, children rode their bikes. What would a normal childhood would be like? Could he even have a normal child?

  “Maybe you can’t, but I will,” Vicki said. “I’ve always wanted a kid. You don’t have to be part of it.”

  “Shit.” Ronny paced the floor, running a hand through his hair. They couldn’t keep a baby, neither one of them was ready for this.

  “Come on. A little girl with your blue eyes? Daddy’s girl?”

  The thought sent a bubble of excitement whirling around his gut. His child, his daughter or son. The idea was too big to digest.

  “We can’t afford it.” He tried to convince Vicki as well as himself.

  “Sure we can. Your parents are willing to help out. I can get a job if things get tight.”

  She snatched the joint back and hauled a long drag, holding it in for a long time. That was probably bad for the baby. She should quit. He walked over to the fridge, grabbed a beer, sat on the counter, and took a long swallow. “If we keep it, you can’t be drinking and doing this shit anymore. I don’t want anything happening to my kid because of your stupidity.”

  “My mom was into all sorts of stuff and I turned out fine. Shit, I don’t even think she was straight when she gave birth.”

  Despite the excitement, something told him he should just go. Leave her and the baby; she was a freak, a burnout. His dad would have a blast if he and Vicki split, though. Fucking retard can’t even keep a crack whore happy?

  “Well, we need to get some shit,” he said. “I’ll go with you tomorrow. And you have to at least stop doing the hard stuff. Seriously, Vick. Otherwise, I’m out.”

  Vicki tilted her head, examining the cherry on the end of her smoke, then tossed her hair over her shoulder and turned. “I already told Ma and Pa. Your mother has almost everything we’ll need.”

  Once more Ronny fought to control his rage. “You went to my parents? Damn it, how long have you known?”

  “I dunno. A month?”

  “Fuck.” He ran a trembling hand through his hair.

  Vicki wrapped her arms around his waist. She blew smoke in his face and kissed his chin. “Don’t be like that, baby. They’ll be different with a grandkid. Don’t you know that? Chill, man.”

  He was a retard. Falling for the same shit every time. He was jonesing for a fix, just one hit and everything would be clear. He was off for a few days. One hit wouldn’t hurt. “You get any flash?”

  She reached into her back pocket and held up the baggie.

  “Right on.” He snatched the bag from her and, his fingers trembling as he ripped it open and slipped a tab under his tongue.

  Vicki unbuckled his pants.

  Ronny leaned back to let the acid do its work, while she did hers.

  “See baby,” she murmured. “Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

  Ronny didn’t hear. Her mouth enveloped his cock and she did have a damn fine mouth.

  It would be okay. A baby might be a good thing. Just what they needed.

  —

  Ronny left for work early the next morning. He’d work some overtime. He hadn’t planned to, but there had been three hauls posted on the board when he returned home. They might let him pick up one, as long as he was back in time to run his regular route.

  He walked
the short distance from their apartment to the truck yard. Maybe if he did enough extra hauls, he could get his own car. He hated walking. A light mist quickly soaked his clothes. Maybe it’d storm all night. The roads would be shitty. The easiest solution would be to run his rig off the road. Then he never would have to deal with his father or Vicki again.

  Wiping the dampness from his face, he waved at the security guard huddled inside the booth at the front gate. He walked to a small trailer that sat to the far right of the warehouse and rapped on the door. Grumbling sounded from inside, Calvin had probably been packing up for the night. Ronny glanced at his watch and frowned. It was almost seven; he should have been gone an hour ago.

  The door swung open. Calvin peeked out. His thinning hair stood out in spiky tufts on his head, as though he’d been sleeping.

  “Didn’t you just go home?” he asked.

  “Yeah, this morning, but I came back to see if you needed an extra driver to take care of those extra hauls that came in.”

  “Why?”

  Ronny shifted. He moved to set his bag down at his feet, saw the puddles forming in the gravel and thought better of it. “I can use the money.”

  “You straight?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Ronny lied.

  Calvin stared for a moment, chewing his lip.

  “All right, I’ll call Joey. He was pissed as hell that he had to take the Toronto run. Wanted a few days off. It’s a regular run, though. Means you’ll only get a couple of days between hauls instead of the week you’ve been getting. You okay with that?”

  “That’s perfect.” Ronny headed toward the main yard, eyeing the two rows of trucks lined up next to the warehouse. Those that were due to head out had been backed into the loading docks where guys worked at getting them ready. He neared. The truck on the end, Joey’s, had been fired up. Guys ran around hauling the load off.

  He waved and walked to his truck. He’d back it in to help them load, and hoped they weren’t too pissed at him for messing with their night.

  An hour later, Ronny drove down a dark highway, his thoughts on Vicki and the baby. He rolled down the window, uncaring that the rain would drift in and soak his left side.

  Yellow lines endlessly slipped by the truck as he contemplated his next move. The urge to leave was so strong, he could taste freedom, but he couldn’t do it. Only pussies walked out on their kids, and he definitely wasn’t a pussy.

  CHAPTER 11

  August, 1975

  Garrett’s parents bought them a small two-bedroom house as a wedding gift. Dana had been grateful, but it felt like they controlled everything. Inside, Dana found piles of gifts from the wedding, all opened.

  She picked up a crystal punch bowl. “Who opened these?” she asked.

  “Probably my mom. Why?”

  “Well, I don’t know who gave us what. I need to send thank you notes.”

  “I’m sure Mom took care of that.”

  Dana nodded, not wanting to stir the pot any more. Later that day, Opal came over to go through the gifts. She stared at Dana’s bruised cheek.

  “I fell,” Dana finally said.

  She raised one eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “On the stairs at the trailer.”

  “You should learn to watch your step then.”

  “I will. Thank you for all of this.”

  “Don’t thank me, it was Luke.” Opal walked away.

  The next weeks days were good, until Catherine visited and commented on Dana’s fading bruises. She told the same lie she’d told Opal.

  Catherine’s face had reddened. “Don’t lie to me; I know what happened.”

  “I’m not lying, Cat.” She didn’t need them hating Garrett for something that wasn’t his fault. She’d lied to him. Of course, he got mad. He’d been sweet ever since and had apologized repeatedly for losing his temper.

  “There’s no way you get a shiner from falling down the stairs,” Catherine said.

  “Well I did, so just forget it, okay? I have news.”

  “Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.”

  “You’re so dramatic.”

  Catherine scowled. “I can see where this is going and it’s not good.”

  “It is, though. I missed my period last week.”

  “I want to be excited for you.” Catherine sat on the brown couch Luke had been so proud to bring in. “I think you’re getting in over your head.”

  “How?”

  “He hit you. Don’t you dare say he didn’t, because I’m not an idiot. Now, you’re pregnant and it’ll just get worse. I’ve seen it before.”

  “It was just a…” Dana stopped. She should’ve insisted on the lie, but now it was too late. “We had an argument and he was drunk. I pushed him and he reacted. No big deal. It won’t happen again.”

  “Right. What am I supposed to tell Dad when he asks about you?”

  “You tell him I’m fine, because I am.”

  “I just don’t want another incident like when Marcus—”

  “He killed himself,” Dana interrupted. “Hardly the same situation.”

  “You know what I mean,” Catherine said. “You rushed to Garrett right after what happened with Marcus. It’s not that I think you did anything wrong, Dana. I’m worried is all. I just want what’s best for you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “And I don’t believe you.” Catherine left shortly after, stuffing a wad of money into Dana’s hand, “just in case” she needed it later. Dana held the money, not sure what she should do with it. Garrett had her on an allowance, because money was tight. If she bought anything extra, he’d know it wasn’t with the money he gave her. She could give it to him, but knowing it came from Catherine might make him angry. In the end, she hid the money under the mattress. If they needed it later, he’d be grateful.

  —

  The door slammed. Dana rolled over to her other side and faced the wall. It had to be three in the morning. Garrett sat on the bed and gave her a shove.

  “Get your fat ass over,” he said. “I’ll be glad when you calf that little bastard and I can fit in my own bed.”

  “It’s not a bastard.”

  She knew she was huge. It hurt to stand, to sit, even breathing was uncomfortable. The doctor said the baby was big. When she mentioned to Garrett that the doctor suggested a cesarean section, he’d laughed and told her not to be such a sissy, so she’d told the doctor she’d rather try a natural birth.

  “Aren’t we cocky tonight?” Garrett said.

  “Sorry, I’m just so tired. Can we just go to sleep?”

  “I don’t like your tone,” Garrett said. “You think that now that you’re carrying my kid you can just talk to me any way you want?”

  “No, Garrett, I—”

  Garrett pulled her off the bed and dragged her to the door. “No, that’s right. You forgot who is in charge.”

  “I’m sorry.” Dana stumbled awkwardly behind him. Pain knifed through her distended belly as she struggled to keep up to him.

  When they reached the living room, he tossed her onto the floor. “How many times do you have to be told? You don’t mouth off to me.”

  She should have paid attention. Garrett was quick to anger when he was drunk. “I’m sorry.”

  “Can’t do anything with sorry, can I?”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “You can smarten up.”

  She didn’t anticipate the kick. When it came, she screamed and collapsed in a heap. Covering her belly, Dana crawled away from him.

  “Fat fucking whore.” He kicked her again.

  “Garrett, I can’t breathe.”

  He kicked her again and caught her side. “You don’t deserve to live. Waste of my fucking time.”

  Dana sobbed, desperately trying to move away from him. He followed her, spewing hate, kicking her again and again.

  “I don’t even know why I bother,” he gasped, now out of breath. “Don’t come back to my bed. Sleep on the floor,
like the fucking dog you are.”

  Dana curled up and stayed on the floor all night. Sunlight streamed through the living room window when Garrett stumbled into the room the next morning.

  “What the hell are you doing on the floor?”

  Dana opened her eyes, her belly still aching. “You told me to sleep here.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” He turned and walked toward the kitchen. “I wouldn’t tell you to lie on the floor. Jesus, Dana.”

  Dana eased herself up, gasping at the throbbing pain in her lower back, to watch as Garrett gathered his lunch while sipping a cup of coffee. Sometimes he blacked out, particularly if he’d been drinking whiskey. Maybe he didn’t remember what happened.

  Sitting down at the round table, a hand-me-down from her sister, he raised an eyebrow. “Are you getting up?”

  “I don’t feel very good.”

  “You never feel very good.”

  Dana frowned; swollen ankles, baby up to your neck, and sixty extra pounds didn’t make a woman feel at all good. She smiled, though, and stood. A burning sensation under her belly, just above her pubic bone, crept around her middle and toward her aching back. She slowly moved toward the kitchen, gritting her teeth through the pains, glad she didn’t have to move too far to sit opposite him.

  He drank his coffee, glancing at her now and then, but neither spoke.

  Garrett stood and mumbled something incoherent before walking to the door. Dana waited until the car started before going to the bathroom to inspect moisture seeping between her legs. When she pulled her panties down, her heart sank; blood.

  A phone call to the doctor relieved her somewhat. Dana told him she’d fallen down the stairs and was now spotting. He told her to lay down with her feet up. If it didn’t pass, she should come in.

  She laid on the couch for an hour or so before calling Garrett. “Please, come home,” she begged. “I think I’m in labor.”

  Garrett sighed. “Don’t you think you should wait it out?”

  “The pains are only minutes apart.”

  “I have a couple of things to finish up, just put your feet up or something. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do? If it gets really bad just walk to the neighbor’s or something.” The line went dead.