Chapter 8

As I opened my eyes I realized I was softly thrusting my morning woody against Christy's sexy ass. I almost panicked. This was not something she needed from me!

I hurried as gently as I could to disengage myself, hearing a soft groan as I stumbled to the bathroom, gathering my clothes for the day on my way. As I headed out of the bunkhouse, I glanced at the clock; it was five-thirty.

I looked at the truck loaded to the hilt with bales of hay to be stacked. I was not ready for that yet. Feeling anger resulting from realizing what was troubling Christy, I felt like doing something I hadn't done for a lot of years.

Grabbing a couple bales from the truck, I covered them with an old tarp and then proceeded to work out my aggression.

Years before, I had enrolled in a martial arts class with my sons, and it felt good to be working out again, especially with a youthful body. Hell! Before I couldn't even land a side-kick much above the waist. Yes, I was enjoying this. I felt the rush a good disciplined workout gave me. I vowed I was going to do this every day.

I had been at it for a hour and was practicing side-kicks at the tarp, still taking out my aggression, when I heard., "What are you doing?"

"Pretending that is your father's head."

Without saying a word Christy moved to where I had been placing my kicks, then with both fists she started flailing away, pounding the tarp-covered bale.

Finally, after fifteen minutes she dropped to her knees, worn out but still continuing to slap the target. She was sobbing as I picked her up and carried her back to the bunkhouse. After a half hour of holding her while she cried, my heart was hurting and my eyes weren't dry.

Christy finally told me her story, but not without breaking down several times.

After her mother left, it had started, first with the verbal abuse which never ceased. Then later came the physical abuse: slaps, pushing her around, grabbing her hair while screaming at her. Then the sexual abuse started: the grabbing and touching, then being forced to her knees in front of him. Then just before he was arrested, he raped her, attacking her in the middle of the night as she slept. Then he beat her for throwing up on him, before he could cum in her.

He left for a few days after the rape. While he was gone, the police showed up looking for him. They asked if she would call them if he returned. He did come back, so Christy fled to Alice's trailer and made the call. He saw her as he was being taken away swearing at her and threatening to get her back.

"Jim, you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"You have to promise me that you will."

"I can't. God, he's my father!"

"What? You don't want him to go to jail?"

"Yes, I want him in jail, but he's my father! Shit! Don't you know what incest is? Everyone will be pointing at me."

"I know what incest is. I also know what abuse and rape is. You have to tell Martha and see a doctor."

"Tell Martha? What? Her son raped her granddaughter?"

Oh boy! I didn't think about that. No! That would be bad.

"Okay, but you still need to see a doctor."

"Why? It's over now. He's going to jail for beating up that guy."

"Look, he could have given you a disease, or gotten you pregnant and you need to have some counseling."

"Pregnant! He couldn't have... he didn't... you know... um... put his stuff in me."

"Um, well even if he didn't cum in you, it's still possible."

"How? I thought that was how it happened?"

"Well... ah... some could have leaked out... before he would have... um!... cum."

"Oh my God! What am I going to do?"

"Look, we'll tell Martha you were raped, but not by whom. Then she can take you to the doctor to get checked out, okay?"

"I can't tell her that."

"Do you want me to tell her?"

"I don't know. Well! I guess... but you have to promise not to tell her it was Ray."

"Okay, I'll go talk to Martha. I'll be right back."

Christy still had her hand holding on tight to me and almost wouldn't let me go. I kissed her cheek wondering how I could've called this frightened looking little girl a bitch, a few days ago. I felt a tug at my heart as I stood to leave.

I found Martha in the kitchen getting ready to start breakfast. I dreaded telling her, but Christy needed help.

"Good morning, Martha."

"Morning, Jim. Are you ready for breakfast. I'm just about to start it."

"Martha, I need to talk to you. Please sit down"

"Jim, you look worried. Is something wrong?"

"Where's George?"

"He's still sleeping. Why? Do you want me to wake him?"

"No! It's just that I wanted to talk to you first."

"Jim your scaring me. Tell me what's wrong!"

"There's not an easy way to tell you this Martha. Christy was raped a couple of weeks ago and she needs some help."

"Oh my God! Where is she?"

"Martha, she's in the bunkhouse. She's okay! But we need to get her to a doctor and she's going to need someone to talk to -- a professional."

"Oh my! Jim, who did this to her?" she asked as she was rising from the table.

"I promised her Martha. I can't say."

"But why not? Oh my God! Oh no! It was Ray, wasn't it?"

"Martha, I promised."

"Don't worry Jim. You didn't tell me."

"Oh God! We can't let George know any of this! With his heart, this could kill him!"

"Martha, I won't tell him. I'll leave that up to you."