Chapter 2

I stretched, yawned, and struggled to open my eyes as I felt a light touch on my arm.

“Joe, it’s almost ten o’clock. How late were you up last night?” Mom’s voice was firm but not unkind.

I squinted against the sunlight streaming through the window. “I dunno, I was reading.”

“Well, come on and get dressed. Remember? Janet invited us over to their house for a pool party around noon, and they’ll have your favorite thing—free food!”

I smirked. “Not like I pay for it now.”

“Just wait, Buster. It won’t be long.”

Blowing out a long breath, I grumbled, “Oh, I know, I know.”

As I searched the room for a reasonably clean pair of socks, visions of cheeseburgers and potato salad danced in my head—until they were pushed aside by the thought of Hannah in a bathing suit.

Fifteen minutes later, we were on the main drag through the shopping center and fast food district. Just past the drive-in movie theater, we stopped at a light on the crest of a hill, where a left went up to the high school and college. A couple hundred yards down the other side, I said, “On the right,” and Dad slowed to turn into an upscale neighborhood carved into the forested hillside.

We wound through the curving roads until I pointed to a large house on a corner lot. “That’s it.”

In daylight, it looked even more impressive than earlier in the week. A brick oval drive swept across the front, but we turned down a long concrete driveway behind the house, ending in a wide parking area in front of two garage doors.

Stepping out of the Oldsmobile, I took in the glistening turquoise pool set in the middle of a sprawling concrete patio. The temp was only in the low seventies, but the sun beat down, and the cool water seemed to beckon me.

“Oh, wow.”

“Joseph!” Dad barked, snapping me out of my daze. “Don’t just stand there gawking. Get the jug from the trunk.”

Grabbing the bulky red cooler, I followed him toward the gate in the iron fence surrounding the pool. Mickey, Hannah’s stepdad, strode through, decked out in shorts and a loud Hawaiian shirt. His grin stretched across his tanned, weathered face.

“Hey there, Chris! Damn glad you made it.” The two men shook hands firmly.

Mickey turned to me. “Joe, my man!” Before I could react, he pulled me into a bear hug, his thick arms swallowing me whole. “Put that cooler down and come on back—the party’s just getting started!”

Lowering the cooler, I asked, “Where can I change into my swim trunks?”

“There’s a half bath inside, near the kitchen.”

“Thanks!”

Dad asked Mickey, “How long have you had this place?”

“Built it five years ago. It’s a quiet neighborhood but close to shopping and has a nice view.”

Glancing to my right, over the trees was the distant mountain ridge that was right behind my old high school. “You can probably see all the way to our house.”

“Indeed” Mickey nodded.

“Son, don’t you have things to do?” my dad scowled.

“Yes, sir.”

After I carried the cooler to the grill that was just under the pavilion roof, I skipped up the wooden stairs and into the house in search of the bathroom.

The family room was large with a couch facing a t.v. along the outer wall. On the other side was an open kitchen with an island where several bowls were set. Heading towards the front door, the bathroom was on the left, just past a door that I presumed went down to the garage, while on the right were the stairs to the second floor.

When I came back out, I found a pool chair and stretched out to catch some rays. Dave and Sarah soon arrived, and he called out, “Hey man, how are you doing?” before wading into the water with her.

And then Hannah appeared.

She stepped off the deck adjoining the family room, one hand on the railing as she descended the steps to the patio. Her toned, athletic form was accentuated by a red bikini—not too small, not too big, but just enough.

Stay down. Stay down. Stay down, I silently begged my body as my breath caught in my throat.

She was beauty personified.

Hannah swayed her hips dramatically as she crossed the patio, flashing me a playful wave before stepping into the pool. As the water rose past her waist, she called out, “C’mon in!”

I swallowed hard. Being underwater might help conceal any ... issues. I walked to the pool’s edge and dropped in, realizing too late that I’d chosen the deep end. The cold water shocked my system, making me gasp and tense up.

Hannah turned sharply at the sound. “What’s the matter?”

“Too ... cold...”

She laughed, wading closer. “It’s the end of July. It’s not cold!”

“Yeah, well ... it takes me a minute to adjust,” I managed. “And like a big dummy, I just jumped right in. Good way to drown!”

Shaking her head, she grinned. “Then you’d need someone to give you mouth-to-mouth.”

“You just love torturing me, don’t you?”

She squealed, “Of course!” and sent a playful splash of water into my face.

As I wiped the water from my eyes, Dave and Sarah laughed at my protests and converged on our spot. Sarah’s swimsuit revealed thick thighs, a bit of a belly, and not much up top yet.

We spent a while diving, splashing, and bouncing the beach ball until Hannah suggested, “Let’s play chicken—I’m with Joe!”

Dave groaned. “Why do I have to be with the brat?”

Sarah smacked him with a backhand to the chest, making him wince.

“Well, you’re not touching me!” Hannah shot back.

I threw up my hands. “Hey! C’mon, let’s play nice.”

Hannah giggled. “Yeah, I want to throw Sarah in the pool!” She came up behind me and pushed down on my shoulders. Her touch sent electricity shooting through my body.

Leaning forward, I dunked my head under the water as she climbed onto my shoulders with easy grace. Her bare thighs brushed against the sides of my face, sending a shiver down my spine. I steadied her by grasping her calves as she rose above me, slight but surprisingly sturdy.

“You good up there?” I called, my voice cracking slightly with nervous excitement.

“Perfect,” she replied, ruffling my hair affectionately.

I pulled my head up and slowly stood, struggling to maintain not just my balance but my composure as her weight pressed against me.

Sarah climbed onto Dave’s shoulders, and he stepped forward, closing the distance between us. Their faces were only a foot away from ours as the girls flailed their arms, grappling for dominance.

Hannah leaned forward, her hair tickling my cheeks as she taunted, “You two better start practicing your loser faces!”

Her laughter mixed with Sarah’s as they sparred, my focus shifting to the warmth of Hannah’s thighs and the grind of her hips against my neck. The sensation was overwhelming—then the collision came.

Dave and Sarah rammed into us, sending a shockwave through my body. Hannah’s grip tightened as she squealed, her thighs clenching my head.

“Don’t you dare let them win!” she growled.

But my foot slipped. Hannah shrieked, flopping backward and pulling me under the water with her.

She released me as we both surfaced. I spun around and held out a hand, helping her out of the water.

Hannah swiped the dripping hair off her face and pointed at Sarah. “I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little dog too!”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Careful—you don’t want to melt in the pool.”

“Oh, she’s the witch!” Sarah teased back.

Mickey called from the pavilion that the food was ready. Hannah started out of the pool, then glanced over her shoulder at me. “C’mon, let’s eat!”

I slouched neck-deep in the water, calling back, “I’ll be there in a minute,” without explaining my need to will myself back to a neutral state.

When I joined everyone at the picnic table, most of them were already halfway through their burgers. I dug into my food but got up to grab a cold can of pop from the cooler.

“Do yunz have any 7-Up?” I asked Mickey.

“I think there’s a few in the fridge,” he replied.

I waved my thanks and skipped up the stairs.

As I rounded the counter in the kitchen, I felt something in my hair. To my disgust, it was a strip of flypaper covered in dead insects.

Hannah walked in, hands on her hips, smirking. “Aw, is there something I can do for you?”

“Yeah—can you help me get this damn thing out of my hair?”

She snickered. “Looks like someone got themselves into a sticky situation.”

“Very funny.”

She slid in close, her breasts brushing against my arm as she reached above me. One hand tugged the flypaper while the other carefully pulled my hair in the opposite direction.

“Let me guess - trying to catch flies with your hair?” she teased.

“No, I was grabbing drinks. I was even going to offer you one.”

“How sweet!”

“You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little.”

“Are you making any progress?”

“Slowly, but maybe I should grab the clippers and shave you bald!”

I jerked. “No way! Maybe when I’m like sixty years old, but I love my hair.”

She giggled. “Suit yourself, coward. It’s not that special. Now, if I cut it off and give you a lollipop you could be Kojak for Halloween!”

“Hey, who loves ya, baby?” I smirked and raised an eyebrow as she continued.

She flipped a finger over my upper lip. “Maybe you could grow a bushy mustache and be G. Gordon Liddy.”

With one final tug, she freed the strip. “You’ve still got glue in your hair. Go to the bathroom, and I’ll grab some shampoo.”

In the bathroom, Hannah returned and adjusted the water temperature in the sink. “Stick your head under.”

I bent over as she wet my hair, her fingers working shampoo into my scalp. The tingling touch sent another shiver through me.

As she rinsed the soap away, I stood and grabbed a towel. She handed it to me, her eyes lingering on mine.

I smiled and said, “Thanks” before rubbing the towel vigorously over my head for maybe a minute.

That done, I saw her standing in front of me. It was just the two of us in that small bathroom, the door closed, me dressed in only my swim trunks, she in only her teeny-weeny bikini.

Time stood still. Her lips parted slightly, and for a moment, I imagined kissing her, undressing her, pulling her close.

But she was my cousin. Her parents were outside. My parents were outside. And she was only fourteen.

My heart was pounding as I felt flushed. The best I could manage was an awkward smile.

“Cat got your tongue?” she teased.

I stammered, “Uh, no. Just ... distracted.”

She dropped her head, brushing past me to leave the bathroom.

I stood there, all alone, lost in confusion.

Finally arriving back at the patio, Mom glanced up as I sat down. “Did you get lost? Took you a while to grab a pop.”

I shrugged. “Got my hair stuck in flypaper. Hannah helped me clean it up.”

Mom smiled at her. “Thanks for helping my poor boy out, Hannah.”

She gave a brief nod, muttering, “It was nothing” then went back to picking at her potato salad.

Later that night, after the Pirates’ game, I turned off my bedroom light and laid in bed, replaying the bathroom scene.

What could I have done? What should I have said?

My hand wandered into my shorts as I imagined her moaning, imagined pulling off her bikini. But the fantasy faded as my thoughts twisted into frustration.

“You always take the easy way out,” the voice in my head taunted.

“It’s hard,” I thought back. “What do I say?”

“Math is hard. Girls are hard. Life is hard.”

Something else was no longer hard, so I gave up and rolled over, muttering, “Leave me alone,” before drifting off to sleep.

It started off like most any other Sunday. I slept in ‘til around nine, put on a cassette, and settled into my Star Trek novel, keeping one eye on the clock to make sure I didn’t miss the Pirates game on TV.

Before I could get far, Mom called up the stairs, “Joe—can you come down here?”

I skipped down, taking the steps two at a time, and found both my parents standing in the kitchen, their faces unusually serious.

Mom spoke first. “I just got a phone call from Aunt Janet. They had a small fire in their kitchen this morning...”

My stomach clenched. “Oh my God! Is everybody okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re fine. There’s not a lot of damage, but they had some smoke n’at all through the house. Janet and Mickey think it’s best to clear everyone out for a few days until the contractor can clean it up.”

I let out a relieved breath. “Wow. Glad to hear that. But ... where’s everyone going to stay? Are they going to a hotel?”

“Janet and Mickey might, but the kids are staying with family. We told them Hannah could stay here.”

My eyes darted between them, butterflies stirring in my stomach.

Dad’s sharp tone broke through my thoughts. “We need you to be on your best behavior. Your cousin needs to feel welcome here.”

I huffed under my breath, What, like I’m some asshole? but answered, “No, that’s fine. It’ll be nice to have someone to talk to.”

By mid-afternoon, Mickey’s BMW rolled into the driveway again. Dad elbowed me as Hannah struggled to lift her bag from the trunk. “Don’t stand there like a goddamn statue, boy. Go help the girl with her suitcase.”

Jogging over, I motioned for her to step aside. “Here, let me get that.”

Her eyes met mine briefly, her smile softening the moment before she said, “Well, thank you very much. I needed, you know—a few things!”

I grunted as I heaved the bag clear of the trunk. Dad watched, grinning as if to say, Told you so.

Carrying her bag through the kitchen, I caught a whiff of the meatloaf in the oven. Mom greeted us with a smile. “Just in time—dinner’s almost ready.”

When I returned to grab plates and silverware, Mom pointed to the dining room. “Set the table in there—more room for four of us.”

Seated at the table, I wasted no time grabbing two slices of meatloaf and piling fried potatoes onto my plate.

“Slow down—leave some for the company!” Dad barked.

Grinning, I handed the bowl to Hannah. “Here you go.”

As we ate, I couldn’t help noticing how different it felt to have her there. Strange, but ... comfortable. I wondered what it would’ve been like to grow up with a younger sister around the house.

Mom broke the silence, turning to Hannah. “How are you settling in? Made any new friends yet?”

Hannah chewed thoughtfully before answering. “Eh, not really. It’s been nice hanging out with Joe since I haven’t met anyone my age yet. But I’m sure that’ll change once school starts—and this is very good meatloaf!”

“Well, thank you! How’s Mickey been treating yunz?”

Hannah put down her fork. “He’s not home a lot, always out showing houses. But he’s been cool so far. It’s good to see Mom happy—she had a rough time after Sarah’s dad died.”

Mom sighed. “It would’ve been nice to go to the wedding.”

“It all happened so quickly,” Hannah replied. “They were only dating for a month after we moved back, and next thing we know, they were at the magistrate’s office getting hitched. I hope it lasts—at least until I finish high school. I’m really tired of moving.”

Unease settled over the table. I decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “So, Dad, what do you think about Jimmy Carter complaining about all this ‘malaise’ in the country?”

Dad’s face lit up, eager to dive into politics. “Well, if that dimwit thinks the people lack confidence in our leaders, maybe he should look in the mirror.”

I chuckled. “Yeah, it’s like he wants an oil shortage so we’d all need electric cars.”

“Right, and now Murtha’s trying to get money to turn the coal here into some synthetic fuel.”

“I paid seventy-five cents a gallon the other day,” I added. “How’s Carter expecting the price to drop when he’s talking about taxing oil companies or shutting down the Alaska oil fields?”

Dad fixed me with a glare. “You mean I paid seventy-five cents. Where do you think you got the money?”

Caught, I glanced at Mom before returning to my food.

Hannah broke the tension. “Hey Joe, what are we doing tomorrow?”

“Oh, I usually sleep in, then start getting ready for the game around four. We can find something to do before then.”

Before I finished speaking, Dad jabbed, “You know, son, you’d be a hell of a lot more useful around here if you had a job instead of staying up all hours.”

I bit my lip, suppressing a retort as I hurried to shovel down what was left on my plate.

In the kitchen, rinsing dishes, Hannah slid beside me and whispered, “What’s up with your dad?”

I frowned. “You wanna walk down to the playground?”

“Yeah, sure.”

I waved at the sink. “Then help me red up these dishes, and I’ll put ‘em in the washer.”

Once we finished, I called out, “Mom, we’re heading down to the school for a while!”

“Okay, honey, don’t keep Hannah out too late.”

“Mom—it’s only six o’clock!”

On our way down the driveway, Hannah asked again, “Okay—so why’s your dad being so nasty?”

“Besides him being a dick?” I caught her stern stare and quickly added, “Sorry—language.”

Her grin softened the moment, and I continued. “It seems like forever that I can never do anything good enough, but the last year or two, he’s been even more pissed off at everything.”

She frowned as we continued down the street. “I can see where he’d be disappointed about your grades.”

“But it’s like I’d say, ‘Hey, Dad, look—I got an A!’ and he’d be, ‘Why can’t you do that all the time?’”

She flashed an evil smile. “I do that all the time!”

“Shut up!” I yelled, but I couldn’t help smiling. “I think the worst was when I was little, and he’d tell me, ‘You’re so bad, when you turn twelve, I’m sending you to military school!’”

“Oh my God. That had to hurt.”

I stopped at the corner and turned to face her. “Tell me about it. And now he’s been ragging me all summer about not having a job.”

We resumed walking, and she asked accusingly, “Well, why don’t you have one?”

“Right now? Baseball. I delivered pizza over the winter, but that’s in the evenings, so I quit when the season started.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re free during the day. Couldn’t you work at a grocery store or...” She looked around and pointed at the deli on the next corner. “ ... something while you’re playing?”

“Yes, Dad,” I whined in mock outrage.

“But I’m so adorable when I say it!”

I laughed. “Yeah, right,” and reached out to poke her in the side.

“So, if you’re not working, where do you get all your money?”

“I’ve got a decent amount in the bank that is saved for tuition, and Mom gives me a ten or twenty once in a while for gas.”

“Oh, so you’re a momma’s boy?”

“You know, I ought’a kick your butt!”

“All talk! I’m not afraid” she scoffed.

Crossing the street to the school, she looked around at the houses. “This is a nice neighborhood. Do you like living here?”

“Up on your hill is nicer, but I’ve been here like forever, and there’s always been a ton of kids my age within walking distance. Still, so many of them say this is a shithole town with nothing to do and can’t wait to move away. I like it here, but jobs are tough. So, I’m torn.”

Just then, we reached the playground, and Hannah squealed, “Oh, I love swings!” as she ran across the basketball court.

She settled into the leather strap suspended between two chains and started rocking herself back and forth. “Are you going to push me or what?”

I moved behind her, catching her hips at the furthest point of her backswing, holding them for a split second before throwing her forward.

“Push!” “Harder!” “Higher!” she called each time she came back to me.

As she swung higher, my hands ventured further down onto her butt. Squealing with each touch, she swung higher still, her laughter filling the air.

When she got too fast for me to reach, I stepped back, making sure my condition wasn’t noticed.

Satisfied that my modesty was intact, I came around front to admire her form as she rhythmically leaned back, extending her legs and chest with each motion.

When she tired and slowed to a stop, she looked up and said, “Thanks—that was fun. Haven’t done that for a while!”

I touched the middle of her back lightly as she got to her feet and nudged her toward the steps at the side of the building. “Let’s go to the other side of the school.”

She looked up at the three-story brick building. “Did you go here?”

“Yep, K through sixth. Do you see that house over there?”

“Which one?”

“The green siding. We moved there when I was four. For the first year, every morning, I woke up and asked my mom, ‘Am I old enough to go to kindergarten yet?’”

She grinned. “Ah, that’s so cute! So, you’ve been here that long?”

At the far side of the school, the sidewalk overlooked the athletic fields. I gestured for her to sit in the grass. “Yeah, we bought the house we’re in now when I was in second grade. That’s been twelve years—and another three or four just two blocks away.”

“I’ve never lived anywhere more than two.”

“That’s gotta suck.”

“It’s been really hard to make friends. Sarah’s dad was a manager for HoJo’s, and we moved all over—New Jersey, Virginia, Texas. After he died, I got why Mom wanted to come back where we’d be near family, but it’s starting over, yet again.”

“Do you hear from your dad much?”

“Pfft. He left when I was one.” She stared at the ground. “I’m lucky to get a birthday card with twenty bucks in it. I’m not sure which is worse—your dad’s here, but his people skills sure suck.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She smiled softly, reaching out to rub my thigh. “Thanks, you’ve been so sweet.”

Her touch lingered, and I said quietly, “You’re very welcome.”

Pointing at the hundred yards of green grass in front of us, I continued, “You know, this is where I played baseball growing up—pickup games with the guys. I still come here whenever I can to watch girls’ softball. I even helped coach a team last year.”

“What ages?”

“Junior and senior high, about twelve or thirteen up to eighteen.”

She cocked her head and stared at me, her lips curving into a teasing grin. “And you never got a date?”

I closed my eyes and exhaled. “I never asked anyone.”

She frowned, looking me over while slowly shaking her head. “Well ... maybe I can play next year, and you can come watch me.”

“One problem.” I extended my index finger, pointing down the valley to a hillside beyond. “See those three small hilltops way over there?”

Hannah leaned in, her arm brushing against mine, her head almost resting on my shoulder as her eyes followed my finger to the horizon. “Yeah?”

“Well, if you look closely, you can see some houses. That’s your neighborhood—maybe five and a half, six miles away. Just a little too far, being in Pineland and all.”

“Huh. Too bad Mickey didn’t buy a house on this hill.”

“It’s not too far for me to drive.”

“Are you sure you can afford the gas?”

“No problem. I’ll just ask the ‘Bank of Mom.’”

We both laughed, falling into a companionable silence as we stared out at the hills. The moment stretched, peaceful yet charged. I gathered my courage to speak again. “You know, there’s something I’ve never told anyone.”

She looked up, her voice soft and curious. “What’s that?”

“The reason why I’m living at home and commuting to college instead of being at a school out of town somewhere.”

She nudged her elbow into my ribs. “Well, tell me!”

I frowned, hesitating, then met her gaze. “As much as I can hate living with my dad, as much pain as it causes—this is all I know. All this, right here, that I’ve just told you about. All the memories. Anytime I try to picture myself somewhere else—without my family, without these friends—I get so wound up, so anxious, and I just don’t know what to do. I freeze up.”

I dropped my head, staring at the ground between my feet. The weight of my confession lingered in the air, uncomfortably heavy. I felt her hand on my knee, her thumb softly brushing back and forth as she tried to comfort me.

After a long silence, she removed her hand. I turned and asked, “You ready to head back?”

She nodded and I stood. She extended her hand, her smile softening the tension. “Can you help me up?”

Hannah’s hand was soft, warm, and slightly damp against mine. I wanted so much to keep holding it the whole way home, our fingers laced together as we strolled down the street. But after she stood, I let her hand go, letting mine dangle at my side, just inches away. And there it was, roaring back—the paralyzing fear of uncertainty I’d just confessed to her.

The Wall.

The lyrics from the Kansas song began taunting me, echoing inside my head.

It rises now before me, {br}

A dark and silent barrier between, {br}

All I am, and all that I would ever want to be.

It didn’t matter how easily Hannah and I talked about stuff or shared a laugh. I was once again at that wall where I’d have to ask, the point at which I’d have to confess, “I want you as more...”

I felt the desire. But she was my cousin, so of course she wasn’t going to feel the same way. If I held her hand, it would mean I wanted her as a girlfriend—that I wanted ... that. And that would gross her out. As always, I lacked the guts to even try.

Just another in the long line of times when I wanted something so bad it tore at my insides, but at the same time, I was so terrified of being rejected, of failing.

So, I did nothing. I said nothing.

“Are you okay? You’re not too talkative all of a sudden.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, just thinking. You know, all that stuff we were talking about.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

When Hannah and I came in the back door, both my parents were sitting at the kitchen table, sipping their coffee. Mom spoke first. “Joe, we need to discuss the sleeping arrangements. Since Hannah’s our guest, we think it’s only fair she gets to use your bed while she’s here.”

I froze. It hadn’t even crossed my mind. There were only two bedrooms—mine and theirs—the third having been turned into a family room and office years ago. One of us was going to have to sleep on the floor or the downstairs couch.

My thoughts scrambled. “I ... I can’t. I’m pitching tomorrow—I need a good night’s sleep. All my stuff is in my room...”

Dad cut me off sharply. “Joseph.”

Before I could respond, Hannah raised her hands. “Uncle Chris, it’s fine. I won’t make Joe move. I’ll find someplace else to sleep.”

I turned to her, hoping to show gratitude, but her piercing glare hit me like a slap.

I retreated to my room, closing the door to sulk in private. The day had gone so well, and now I’d pissed her off, being a selfish ass.

After the eleven o’clock news, Hannah and Mom spread a pillow and blanket on the floor in front of the loveseat. I could hear the low hum of the TV through my bedroom wall as I lay on my bed, Sporting News discarded next to me. WCFL played softly on my radio, but I couldn’t shake the thought of Hannah in the next room, asleep on the floor.

Eventually, I gave up trying to sleep and slipped into the hallway toward the bathroom. On my way back, I paused when I heard her breathing. The T.V. room didn’t have a door, and the faint light from my bedroom spilled across the floor where Hannah was laying.

I stared at my parents’ closed door until I was convinced they were both asleep. My heart pounding, I stepped slowly and quietly into the room, around the coffee table, until I stood over her.

She was flat on her back, her hair cascading over the pillow, her chest rising and falling with each breath. She was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, leaving her legs exposed in the dim glow.

I trembled as I stood there, grappling with a surge of emotions I didn’t fully understand. A mix of admiration, confusion, and guilt churned in my chest.

What am I even thinking?

I wanted her, I wanted her so bad. To touch her, to kiss and caress her. All those things I’d still never done with a woman.

My hand was inside my boxers, stroking, as I continued to gaze down at her.

Maybe she didn’t have to know. Maybe ... softly, gently, not enough to wake her.

I moved my feet to either side of her chest, then dropped to my knees, just above her but with none of my weight on her. I leaned forward, the tip brushing her lips.

Suddenly she flinched and I jumped back, her tongue reflexively passing over those lips that I’d just made contact with.

I froze in a silent panic.

What if she opens her eyes? She’ll see you, your cock shoved in her face!

I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest. I looked down again and then instead of Hannah, saw Kathy’s face, covered in blood. I retched and instantly felt faint.