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Agnes is coming here during her fall break, which won’t be that long from now. She’s already planning a huge program and seems to think I’ll be able to survive it without ending up on the floor. I take a drink as an idea suddenly comes to me, a much simpler idea.
“We could go to Chatfield State Park, if you prefer, there are places to swim there.”
At first, Agnes doesn’t answer. But I can hear her breathing.
“No,” she finally whispers in a small voice.
“Why, honey?”
I hear her walk to her room and close the door, probably so our aunt won’t listen.
“I don’t want anyone to look at my body…”
I can’t think of anything to say. My breathing stops. A flash comes to me. My brain sends me back months.
I see that bastard hitting me in the face as I was trying to get to the bathroom with my little sister. I see myself collapse weakly on the floor. But mostly I see him undressing her with his eyes, then actually undressing her as I tried to stand up.
I hear his scream in my ears. I remember grabbing my scissors from the cabinet…
I close my eyelids tightly. I don’t want to think about that. I feel hot, all of a sudden. I feel dirty. I need to take a shower. I quickly take off my pants, which I throw away, and my top, which suffers the same fate.
“Then we won’t go,” I say in a reassuring voice to Agnes. “We’ll do what you want, my darling, okay?”
She then spouts stiffly, “I love you,” in record time.
Still in my underwear, I walk over to my TV and turn it on to the music channel. I nod and shake my hips quickly as I throw the remote on the couch, making my way to the bathroom while listening to my little sister tell me about her day.
As I pass the entrance, two knocks against the door startle me. I don’t move an inch as the banging starts again. I cautiously walk towards the entrance, the phone still against my ear.
“Iris?”
Frowning, I stick my eye to the peephole. What the hell is he doing here? How did he know where I live?
“Tucker?!”
13. Welcome to my Home
Iris
I keep staring at Tucker through the peephole. Seriously, how likely was it that he would show up at my house tonight?
My little sister calls me through the phone, but my half-opened mouth doesn’t let out a word. I remain rooted to the spot, torn between several contradictory feelings. Exasperation finally wins out.
“Two minutes, sweetie, I’ll call you back right away,” I tell her while putting the phone on the front table.
A new knock, a little brisker, falls against my door. This idiot is getting impatient. While I look for the most suitable place to hide his body once I’ve killed him, I retort, “If you break my door, I swear I’ll break what’s between your legs!”
My threat seems to have the desired effect because a silence answers me. But then I hear a small laugh, and I hold back a curse.
“Open up.”
This asshole is clearly laughing at me as he bangs against the door again, more gently this time. I take a deep breath and retort, “Why should I open the door for you? This is private property! And more importantly, how did you know where I live?”
He repeats my name a little louder. Damn it, I’m going to have trouble with my neighbors! I open my door but make sure to show only my face in the crack, hiding my half-naked body behind the door.
“Oh, are you deaf?! Stop knocking,” I whisper angrily.
Tucker stands before me, arms crossed. Unperturbed by my angry tone, he raises his eyebrows. His hair is soaked. Shit, is it raining? My eyes follow a drop that traces its way down his neck just before being blocked by the black cotton fabric of his T-shirt, also wet.
