I'm up before Austin the next morning. It's early but not early enough for it to be as dark as it is outside. The sleet and snow is still falling. A miserable, relentless winter howl is the soundtrack of the darkness. I walk over to the window and stare out at the bleak morning.

I can feel the cold seeping through the glass and onto my bare chest. It's the kind of morning you could spend creating art in your own breath on the glass. My nipples harden as I wrap my arms around myself for warmth.

Austin is sleeping on the floor about a foot away from where I'm standing. I want to wake him up but he looks so peaceful. After the nightmare he had it's probably best if I just leave him alone. A shudder runs through me at the memory of his hands around my throat. He's not going to listen to me, I know it, but I have to try. I have to tell him he needs help. Real help. What happened could have been so much worse. What if I can't wake him up next time?

The mirror in the bathroom reveals the ring of bruises around my neck. They bloom like blood red roses on my pale skin. I gently touch one and wince at the pain. The wounds stand in stark contrast to the pretty pink pointe shoe necklace I'm wearing, the one Austin gave me for Christmas.

My purse is sitting on the bathroom counter, and I start rummaging through it for my powder concealer. I don't want Austin to see the damage he did. He'll just feel guilty even though it wasn't his fault. Well, not technically. I find the powder and start touching up the spots on my neck just as Austin walks into the bathroom.

He sees what I'm doing and gently pulls my hand away so he can examine the bruises himself. His face looks stricken.

"Shit, Rory, it's even worse than I thought," he says.

"I'm okay," I assure him, dabbing at the bruises again.

"I can't say it enough. I'm so sorry," he says.

"How often does this happen? Be honest."

"Not often. Not as often as it does for Pixie... but I didn't recognize where I was last night. I just saw I was in a motel, and it always happened in a motel or hotel room. I felt someone, I felt you, up against my body and I freaked out."

I hesitate, and I know Austin can see the worry in my eyes.

"What?" he asks.

"You need help," I say softly.

Unsurprisingly, Austin shakes his head. "No time for it. I'll be fine. It's buried. It's over."

I look down into the sink and draw a deep breath into my lungs. "Baby, you are not okay. You can't keep living like this. It must be hell inside your head."

Austin turns away from me so he can start the shower. "That's nothing new," he says.

"Will you get help once we adopt Pixie?" I ask.

Austin nods.

"Really? Are you just saying that or are you serious?" I ask.

"I'm serious," he mumbles.

I guess it's the best answer I'm gonna get. Austin pulls off his boxers and steps into the shower while I continue powdering my bruises. After a minute or two he pokes his head out.

"You wanna join me?" he asks mischievously.

"Um... are you saying I smell?" I ask, pretending to be offended.

Austin plays along. "I wasn't gonna say anything, but yeah. Like, really bad."

"Is that right?" I smirk, inching my panties down my legs.

"So bad. Like, maybe you need to shower for a whole hour. Or three hours. Maybe a whole day even. I mean, I love you but you are nasty as fuck. You need to get your ass in here now."

"I'm coming!" I snap.

"Already? Save some for me."

I roll my eyes but can't help laughing as I feel the weight of the dark morning lift at last. "Oh shut up!"

I step into the shower and let the warm water wash over me as Austin holds me close. I lift my face to his and our lips meet. We kiss passionately before he suddenly moves behind me, pulls me against his body and starts running his tongue along the back of my neck. I reach up a hand to tangle my fingers in his wet hair. The steaming water feels so good as it washes away the cold darkness of the icy morning. One of Austin's hands strokes my belly as the other cups my breast, and all my senses are tingling with delicious longing.

"Put your hands on the wall," he whispers in my ear.

I press my palms against the wet tiles. "I like you like this," I say with a smirk, looking back at him over my shoulder.

"Like what?" he asks between planting kisses on my upper back.

"So... demanding. It's kinda hot."

Austin chuckles. "Yeah?"

His hand finds its way between my thighs and I bite my lip in surprise.

"Yeah!" I gasp.

"Oh I haven't even started tormenting you yet," he says.

I close my eyes and throw my head back as waves of pleasure course through my body. It's not long before my legs are shaking, and I suck in a sharp breath when I feel him inside me, a rush of ecstasy mixed with the thrill of momentary pain. I let all my worries and thoughts float away in the steam from the hot water as we move together in the private haven we've created.

———————

We set out an hour later. The world is a frozen wasteland. It takes us another three hours to get from the Arbuckles to Oklahoma City, normally a ninety-minute trip.

Austin tells me where to go, and hours after we set out, we're finally parked behind a tiny, ugly, rusty trailer. It sits at the edge of a small trailer park backed up against a wooded area as if it's trying to escape from itself.

"So what's the plan?" I ask, looking at the place. The snow is deeper here, the trees weighed down and drooping with ice like drowned bodies. "Do we go up to the door and politely ask for Pixie?"

Austin shakes his head. "Fuck no. But we can't break in. He's got a dog. We need the gun."

I open up the glove box. Inside is my father's small silver hand gun, which I take with shaking hands. I sense Austin's eyes staring at it, and the intensity of his gaze frightens me.
I lower the weapon out of sight and gently lift his chin so he's forced to look me in the eye.

"Austin, promise me, we go in and get Pixie... Nothing else."

Austin looks surprised, like he didn't expect me to know what he was thinking.

"Rory, I'm not gonna do anything stupid. Nothing I don't need to do. Have I thought about it? Sure. But I know I can't."

"Really?" I ask him pointedly. "Because I'm telling you, it's not worth it. You'll go to jail and someone else will take Pixie. If you want the life we planned you can't let anger take over. I'm not saying he doesn't deserve to die. He does. I'm just saying use your head. Promise me."

"I promise," he mumbles half-heartedly.

I can feel the anxiety rolling off him as we hold hands and walk closer to the trailer. I wish I could say something comforting, but I'm every bit as scared.

The rottweiler chained to the front porch alerts the entire neighborhood to our presence long before we could ever knock on the door, even if we wanted to. I jump back from the snarling animal as Austin leans down and pats its head.

"Fuck you, Bat. You know me," he says.

"His name is Bat?" I ask curiously.

Austin nods.

"Why?"

"Not sure, but I think it's because if you run he'll chase you down like a bat out of hell. Ray keeps him around to keep people away. Mostly cops."

Bat calms down and lets both of us pass, a low growl rattling in his throat. Someone's already opening the door, alerted by Bat's barking. It's not Ray who opens the door, but it can't be Austin's mom either. The person who opens the door is a teenage girl with long, stringy blond hair. She's scary-skinny like some of the ballerinas I've seen, with dark eyeliner that swallows her brown eyes like two sucking leech mouths.

"Who are you?" she asks us.

I'm so taken aback by this girl's sickly appearance I don't answer. But I don't need to.

"Who is it?" I hear a man's voice call, and he appears behind her in the doorway.

My body stiffens. The man has to be Ray. I can tell from the coldness in his black eyes. He's younger than I thought he would be, but that doesn't mean I see innocence in him. His muscular arms are covered with tattoos I don't understand. Lots of numbers and symbols. Gang signs probably.

"Don't know. Some guy and a girl," the teenager says. Ray shoves her out of the way.

"Stupid bitch! How many times have I told you not to open the fucking door unless you know who it is?"

"Jesus, Ray, they're not cops! Obviously," the girl says, rubbing her arm where Ray shoved her.

"No, they're not," he says, smirking at Austin. "Didn't think I'd see you again. Welcome home."

Austin's face is blank as he answers. "I just want Emmie."

"Come in," Ray says.

Reluctantly, Austin and I step through the doorway into the dark house. It smells like cigarettes. I am clutching Austin's hand so hard. Inside the trailer there are two other teens: a black girl and a skinny little Hispanic girl who looks like she hasn't eaten in weeks. They're both sitting on the couch watching TV and barely glance at us. The black girl might be sixteen or seventeen, but the Hispanic kid can't be older than thirteen. The blond who answered the door lights a cigarette and holds it to her lips. I can't tell how old she is.

"You take them? Or are they here because they wanna be?" Austin asks, nodding at the girls.

It's a brave question, and I'm surprised he asked it. Though I can sense his fear, he's doing a good job of hiding it. This is how he survived, I suddenly realize; hiding, lying, pretending.

"What's it to you?" Ray asks.

"We wanna be here," the blond girl says, blowing smoke in his face. "So you and that bitch need to back the fuck off."

It's the first time anyone has acknowledged me, and I flinch.

"Calm down, Jazz. I've dealt with this little punk ass before, and he's not gonna do shit. But who's this pretty thing you brought with you?" Ray asks, looking at me. "Austin got a girlfriend?"

Austin steps in front of me, blocking his view. I instinctively take a step back toward the front door. I feel like I need to run far, far away from here, but I fight my instincts because Austin needs me. I refuse to leave him.

"Where's my mom?" Austin asks, trying to take Ray's attention away from me.

Ray smirks at Austin. "That ugly bitch? Who knows."

"I know you killed her," Austin says softly. I can hear his voice trembling, and I feel like grabbing him and forcing him to run away with me.

Ray laughs coldly. "You know? You think you know something, Austin? You can't even dress yourself! Always gotta have a babysitter. Sad little retard."

Ray's eyes land on me again, and I see a look in them that makes me feel stripped naked.

"You fucking him?" he asks me.

I don't look at Ray. I simply can't. There is something so wrong, so evil, about him. Like he's not even human.

"Don't you dare talk to her!" Austin says steadily.

Ray smirks. "Just wanna make sure she knows how much you love to suck dick and take it up the ass. Did you know that, Austin's girlfriend? Did you know he's a faggot? I bet not."

I feel Austin starting to shake. His hand tightens its grip on mine.

"He told me everything," I say meaningfully. "Every single thing. I'm sure lots of people would be very interested to hear the things he's told me."

Austin squeezes my hand, and I know he's trying to tell me to shut up. I'm pissing Ray off. I can see the rage in those black eyes. I have crossed a line and I know it.

"I need to talk to my mom," Austin says, obviously trying to take Ray's attention from me.

It actually works. Ray looks at Austin and says,

"Your mom is gone. Probably dead. She was pretty fucked up last time I saw her. Little bitch tried to steal from me. I don't take that very well."

"What did you do to her?" Austin asks.

"Oh don't worry, Austin. I'm getting to that. First I got three of my guys and we hunted her down, fucked her 'till she begged to die and then stabbed her. I made sure she would die slow. You know how to make sure someone dies slow in the worst pain possible?"

Everyone is completely silent, staring at Ray in horror. Even the TV is off now.

"You stab 'em in the intestines. All that bacteria that usually comes out in your shit seeps into the rest of the body, slowly poisoning you. As you rot from the inside out in excruciating pain, you feel every fuckin' second because that's not a lethal wound. If you can get help, you'll be fine. But if you're tied up to a tree in the middle of the woods? Probably not. You just suffer for hours and hours and hours. I wonder how long she held on. Days? Maybe we should go see?"

I'm simply too horrified to do anything. All I can think about is Austin's poor mother.

"Wh- where is Emmie?" Austin asks. I can tell he's fighting tears.

"Emmie's not here," Ray says, "And if you find her, I'd love to know the same damn thing."

"I don't believe you."

"They haven't brought her back yet," Ray says.

"You're lying," Austin whispers.

Ray takes one step forward. "What?"

"I said you're a fucking liar!" Austin snaps.

I don't see any fear in his eyes now, just rage. Pure rage and hatred.

Ray raises his fist and Austin flinches. Seeing this, Ray starts laughing cruelly.

"This little bitch still flinches, and I haven't even touched him," Ray says to the girls on the couch. The blond girl laughs. I hate them both so much.

"Austin, let's go. She's not here," I say, finding my voice even though it's shaking.

"Yeah, Austin, time to go. But your girl can stay here if she wants to. I'd find a use for her."

"FUCK YOU!" Austin shouts, taking a step toward Ray with his hand in his pocket, where I know he's clutching my father's gun.

I'm desperately pulling on his hand, trying to drag him to the front door before he does something he'll regret. I see the little Hispanic girl watching us intently, her empty eyes following us all the way out the door.

In the car, we are both silent, just staring out the window. Austin's mom is dead. Pixie isn't here. It all feels like some surreal nightmare that can't possibly be reality.

"I'm sorry," I tell him softly.

"Don't," Austin whispers. "I can't. Not right now."

He's staring at the Barbie bike leaning against the trailer. It probably belonged to Pixie at one time.

Just then, we hear a frantic tapping on the window, forcing both of us back to reality. It's the little Hispanic girl, shivering from the cold in her ripped jeans and too-small, kid's t-shirt. I roll the window down.

"The little girl, Emmie? With blond hair? She's here. The cops brought her two days ago. She's locked in the back bedroom," she says hurriedly.

"She's here?" Austin gasps, and my own heart fills with hope. "What about my mom?"

The girl shrugs. "I got here two weeks ago and I've never seen her, so I think Ray was telling the truth about that part. I have to get back now. He'll kill me if he finds out I told you."

"Thank you," I say, "I can tell the cops to come for you and the others. What's your name?"

She shakes her head. "No, it's cool, I'm fine here. Ray takes care of me. It's better than where I came from, so just take the little girl and go."

With that, she turns and runs inside.

"Stay here," Austin says, looking at me with cold determination in his eyes.

"Austin-"

"Seriously. Stay here. No matter what you see or hear. I'm getting Pixie," he says. Before I can stop him he grabs the gun and gets out of the car.