Light of Dawn Ch. 08

Thanks to Chargergirl for all her help.

The Victorian painted lady did not seem quite so large as it once had. The music, while loud, was not ear popping, and the guests not nearly as rowdy. Because of Jase, Beth Appleby's orgiastic parties had come to seem almost tame.

Fighting her way to the porch, Dawn tried to ignore the attention her skimpy clothes garnered. She held the buttoned denim jacket close to her body, wishing there was some way she could cover her naked legs. Purple bruises mottled the backs of her thighs, made even more prominent because the bright red shorts fit tighter than before. She was fat and bruised, yet despite her ugliness, men hungrily stared.

"There's my Sunshine." She hated it when Jase Riley called her Sunshine, hated it when he showed his ugly teeth in a sorry-looking smile.

"You're late," she said.

Jase had promised to go easy on her, just a little dancing and someprivate time upstairs in one of the locked bedrooms. She wanted the night over with even though she loathed the thought of being with him sexually. He leaned down to kiss her freckled cheek as if he was a regular guy kissing his regular girl hello.

There was another couple on the Appleby's sprawling front porch, making out with little abandon. Parting lips for a moment, they regarded Jase distastefully and looked at Dawn with what might have been pity, might have been disgust.

Assessing her body for a moment, Jase's mismatched eyes lingered on Dawn's pale, bloodless legs. "You look hot." She felt anything but. Per Jase's instructions, she had worn the skimpiest outfit in her closet: ultra-short cherry red shorts, and a t-shirt that hadn't fit properly since junior year of high school. A dark denim jacket, the only defense against autumn's chill, compensated for the summer slanted garments.

"Lose the jacket, Sunshine. There's no point of having a smoking hot girlfriend if she doesn't show off." She was cold. Didn't he understand? Her hesitation made him angry. "Lose the fucking jacket!" She unbuttoned the jacket and folded it under her arm. Jase seized the scrap of denim and discarded it in the azalea bushes beside the porch. "Great legs, Sunshine, but those tits--I mean, wow." He pinched her cold-stiffened nipples through the thin t-shirt.

Glancing at the couple making out on the porch, he moistened his cracked lips. "How's that cute little butt feeling?" He tried to rub her, but she pushed him away. The welts from the previous night's assault had receded, leaving swaths of tender purple flesh in their wake.

He took her by the forearm and led her away from the porch. They stopped on the side of the house. There the only witnesses were the carefully manicured hedges. "I don't like hurting you," he pinched her sore bottom hard, squeezing the ravaged flesh, "but you're my property now. If I want to touch you, I touch you. If I want to stick my hand so far up your twat you bleed, that's what I do."

She would have spit in his face had they not been alone.

"Are you going to be a good girl tonight?" he asked. "Good. I like it when my Sunshine cooperates. Alpha House likes it too, remember?"

She did. After masturbating a dozen strangers, Jase Riley had violated her mouth with his disgusting dick. "You looked so hot with cum all over your freckly little body. I should have popped you right there." He grabbed the waistband of her cherry red shorts and tugged, peeking at her underclothes. His face soured. "These aren't the panties I bought you."

"These are comfortable." She had chosen plain white cotton, not out of defiance, but because Jase's gift of form-hugging satin bikini panties felt like murder to her bruised and welted backside.

He snapped the waist of the shorts against her belly and ruffled his greasy blond hair in mock exasperation. "Do you think I care if you're comfortable? All I want is for my sexy little girlfriend to show off her sexy little ass without ugly grandma's panties getting in the goddamned way." He sighed, as if supremely disappointed in her. "Take them off. I didn't stutter, little girl. Take those God damned panties off!"

Her eyes widened. After scanning the darkened windows for any observers, she stepped out of the knit shorts, then lowered the cotton panties. Indian summer was officially over. The wind that assaulted Dawn's nakedness was cold and unforgiving. Her teeth clicked together as she tried to shield herself and redress at the same time.

Jase whistled low and slow as her pale skin pinked from the cold. Forcing her hand away, he revealed the fuzzy, orange hair of her pussy. "I told you to shave it."

"I trimmed it."

"Trimming doesn't cut it." He smiled at his pun for the briefest of moments. "I want to see your pussy, not a rusty little brillo pad. Next time it better be gone."

She slipped back into the shorts; the material grated her tender skin. "It will be...It will be, next time." Next time? Was that it? Was she resigned to be his plaything forever?

"Don't ever forget I can hurt him, really hurt him." Jase had vowed to see her big brother seriously injured if at any time she failed to cooperate. He took no small pleasure in constantly reminding her.

He smacked her nearly bare backside. It hurt excruciatingly, but she didn't even flinch. Seizing her by the arm, Jase marched inside. "Where's your dyke girlfriend?" he grumbled.

Dawn shrugged; she hadn't seen Liza since the party began. Keeping tabs on any one person was impossible within the human sea.

"I'll find the little cunt. Maybe we can have a threesome. I'll bet you'd like that, bent over, slurping pussy while I fuck you like a bitch dog." She shrugged again. "Get some beer, I'll meet you upstairs." After an ugly scowl he was gone.

Headed for the kitchen, she elbowed past gyrating couples, ignoring the hands thataccidentally brushed her scantily clad body. Dawn felt theboom-boom-thump of the subwoofers through the thin soles of her canvas sneakers. After deftly avoiding the sprawl of feet and arms, Dawn tripped on another girl's discarded shoe. She stumbled the last few steps into the kitchen.

The Applebys had spent ten thousand dollars remodeling and modernizing the kitchen. Slate tile warmed by an electric heating element ran the length of the floor, abutting fine oak cabinetry on one side of the kitchen, stainless steel appliances on the other. A plentiful supply of beer was spread across the expansive granite countertops. Three Styrofoam coolers stuffed with aluminum cans, a pair of tapped kegs, and a curiously out of place bottle of red wine had been generously provided. Beth Appleby's bankcard had certainly received a workout at the liquor store.

Against the counter, drinking a glass of ice water, was Jeff. Willie Thompson was with him, sucking on a beer and swaying to the persistent beat. Her brother appeared far less entertained than did his friend. Jeff narrowed his eyes when he noticed Dawn. He made some comment to Willie and took a sip of water. Willie departed, leaving the siblings relatively alone.

Jeff's enormous stride closed the distance between them. Communicating some type of male authority with his posture, he hovered over Dawn, as if to remind her how much larger he was. Jase often tried the same tactic. "Why are you dressed like that?" Jeff eyed the length of her scantily clad body.

Shrugging, she circled around him, plunging her arms into a cooler full of frigid water. She fished out two cans of light beer. Jase would be unhappy with light beer, but it was all Beth had stocked.

Jeff produced a pristine white dishtowel and dabbed the beads of moisture from her numb arms. "Are you here alone?" he asked.

"No," she answered, "I came with a friend."

His eyes narrowed, boring into her soul. "Who?"

Her fingers grew numb. The beer cans were ice-cold, so she set them on the counter.

"What's his name? I have a right to know."

She forced herself to sound indignant. "You ignore me your entire life and now, just because we've messed around a few times, you think you have the right to act like my jealous boyfriend!" She needed to sound convincing; Jase Riley must remain her problem, not Jeff's.

Exacerbated, Jeff's fingers went to his temples, the way Daddy's sometimes did. "You don't belong here," he said.

"I don't belong?!" Even under the circumstances, she found his choice of words particularly patronizing. He was only trying to protect her in his own clumsy way--but did he have to sound so smug? "Where do I belong, back home with Daddy? I'm not a little girl anymore. Living vicariously through books and friends doesn't do it for me. I want a life, areal life." The little girl who longed to experience her brother's world hadn't reckoned on men like Jase Riley.

Jeff waved his arms helplessly. "There is nothing real about this place. The girls out there aren't like you. They'll do anything to get a reputation, and the guys will do anything to give them one. You're better than that, better than them."

"Better than you?" she asked.

"You are so much better than me. I'm scum, Dawn. I really am."

She noticed the fresh bruise forming below his left eye and flecks of dried blood in his nostrils. "How did this happen?" He winced when she touched the yellowing skin. Jeff worked his jaw for a moment, as if rehearsing some lie with which to answer her. "Have you been fighting?"

"No, it was just an accident, messing around with the guys, errant elbow, that sort of thing."

Not accepting his explanation, she fished a cube of ice from the cooler and held it to his cheek. The warmth from his skin canceled the cold. "You don't have to defend my honor."

He sighed. It was like there was something he desperately wanted to tell her, but couldn't. Jeff took her small hand in his very large one. Their combined heat reduced the ice cube to a puddle in seconds. If only he knew she loved him and would do anything to protect him. "Are you coming home or not?" Defeat weighed down his voice; he knew the answer before he asked.

Dawn's shoulders sagged. "Make sure Daddy doesn't wait up for me." Cradling the two cans of beer, she melted into the throng. For a while, he followed her red head as it bobbed between the tightly packed bodies in the living room. Determined as he was, the wall of humanity proved impenetrable.

***

A tug at his arm halted Jeff's advance. "Come on, quarterback. Let's dance." Liza shouted; it was the only way to be heard. Even with the woman he'd crushed on for three and a half years holding his arm, his focus remained on Dawn. "Outside." Liza would not be ignored.

They found a measure of privacy, just off the front porch. While Liza wrapped his waist, Jeff's hands found their way to her hips. She was slim and fit as a cheerleader should be, yet her hips had that unmistakable woman's shape. The music from inside was muffled by the Victorian home's brick walls but was still very much discernable. A private dance with Liza Jennings, a short time ago the scenario would have been the very embodiment of his deepest fantasy. Now, however, it felt hollow.

"Together at last." Liza's words were soft as wool and just as warm, yet hers was not the voice he longed to hear. "Jeff, honey, are you listening to me?" He nodded. She had been talking for quite some time; as for what she was saying, he had no idea. "Good." Her cheek pressed his shirt, resting against his bruised chest. "You know, sometimes I wish I was a normal girl with normal feelings. Life would be so much easier."

He eyed her curiously. From the flare of her hips to her small, firm breasts, the blonde's every last feature screamed normal girl. He told her so.

She chuckled sadly. "Oh, no I'm not. If I was normal, I'd a set the hook in you a long time ago. I know you're not the little house, picket fence, pushing the stroller around the neighborhood type of guy, but can you imagine how perfect we would be."

Actually, he couldn't. A life with Liza could never be perfect. There was only one perfect. As she shuddered against him Jeff struggled to find something comforting to say. Usually, he was the guy who caused tears, not the guy who stopped them. "Guy or girl, one of these days you're going to makesomeone happy."

She touched his cheek, tracing the contours of his face the way Dawn sometimes did. "Jeff, if I wasn't the way I am and you weren't---"

"A complete asshole." Liza grinned at his words. Self-deprecating humor was not something he practiced.

"I would have said self-involved." She giggled. "Why can't you be like this all the time?" she asked.

"Would it make you feel bad about being a lesbian?" He was kidding; he hoped she knew.

"Believe you me; Mama does plenty to make me feel bad about that." Her mother was an old-fashioned southern belle, a complete church rat, the type of biddy who spent Tuesday night at bible study and Sunday afternoon in the church basement sipping iced tea and swapping gossip. "Don't get me wrong, Mama and me are the best of friends, but last summer the woman almost drove me goofy. Not a day went by that she didn't try to force-feed me some neighbor boy.

"I want to tell her the truth, but at the same time I don't want to lose her." She pressed her cheek harder against his shirt, aggravating the bruise on his sternum. "Whoever said: 'The truth shall set you free.' never met my Mama." She chuckled nervously before drawing in a breath. "Did you ever have a secret, Jeff, an awful secret you didn't think you could tell anyone?"

Jeff swallowed and nodded.

"She's in trouble, and it's all my fault."

Liza made a most unexpected confession. He couldn't believe it, at first he didn't. Sweet Liza Jennings, the woman who had been his very best friend at Choteau had done the unthinkable. She had used Dawn to get back at Jeff, and all because he stole one of Liza's girlfriends. Now Dawn was in trouble with Jase Riley of all people, the one man at Choteau University with more pull than anyone, even Jeff.

"What am I supposed to do?" Jeff backed away from Liza and paced the porch. "I mean, I know what Ishould do but whatcan I do?" It wasn't fair. He had worked for five whole years (nine counting high school) earning awards, trophies, records, and a full scholarship. He would be drafted into the NFL and make millions of dollars. He couldn't just pitch his entire life in the trash like it was a used Kleenex.

Liza grabbed his shirt. He tried to turn away, but she forced him to look at her. "What can you do? What the Hell do you mean? Go save your little baby sister. Play the hero." When he continued to stall she ratcheted the urgency in her voice. "You don't know Jason Riley the way I do. He could be doing anything to her right now. Anything!"

Play hero. Jeff didn't share Liza's moral clarity. His fists tightened and slacked, tightened and slacked. Was it so hard for her to understand? He wasn't the hero type.

***

Dawn gazed through the French doors, past the moonlit balcony to the yard below. All manner of vehicles were parked in the street and on the grass. Standing out amongst them all was the vintage Yellow Thunderbird straddling the curb. Jeff was so close, just downstairs, yet he might as well have been on another planet.

Jase was seated on the edge of the mattress. With one long swig he finished the first can of beer. He wiped foam from his mouth with the sleeve of a torn dress shirt and asked her if she wanted a sip from the second can. She declined, knowing better than to drink anything Jase Riley offered. Between swigs he described everything he planned to do to her in explicit detail.

Dawn's heart beat steadily faster as the inevitable approached. He had used her hands and mouth for pleasure countless times, all along promising that it was only a matter of time before he wanted the rest. The only thing that had saved her thus far were claims that she was a virgin. Once he found out that was not true there was no telling what he might do.

The mattress springs squeaked as they decompressed. His footsteps resounded on the hardwood floor, going silent as he crossed the Persian accent rug that ran the middle of the bedroom. She closed her eyes as his arms wrapped her waist. Jase was tall and his arms long. If she kept her eyes clenched maybe it could feel like it was with Jeff.

His awful breath assaulted her nostrils, ruining the illusion. He proceeded to nip the side of her neck. He cupped her braless breasts and squeezed as hard as he liked. Jase showed little regard for her comfort.

"You're hurting me." Dawn wriggled to escape his embrace.

"No." Again Jase squeezed the soft flesh of her breasts, even harder than before. "You'll know when I'm hurting you, little girl."

Jase flung Dawn's petite body to the surface of the master bed. She caught herself and rolled over the side. Her heels slammed against the hardwood floor, sending arrows of pain up her legs. She stumbled a step backwards before colliding with the floor. Jase hopped on the bed, using the mattress to propel himself next to her. His foot pressed her abdomen, but she wriggled free before his weight could pin her. As she crawled, he swatted her battered backside with his enormous foot. She crashed into the oak dresser. The Appleby's family pictures and knickknacks rained down on her. The corner of a silver picture frame sliced through the sleeve of her shirt, drawing blood from the pale skin beneath.

Jase grabbed her ankle. Trying to pacify her, he only succeeded in yanking the white canvas sneaker from her foot. She was small and scared but wouldn't be so quick to submit. Her bare foot smacked against his leg. His hold was more firm the second time. With one sweaty hand, he grabbed her calf. The other hand grabbed her long red hair. He pulled her to him, almost yanking the hair from her scalp in the process. Forcing his obscene erection against the swell of her bruised butt, he made her endure a series of suggestive grinds.

Jase shoved her forward. She smacked chest-first into the heavy oak dresser. When he tried to trap her against the dresser she aimed her knee for his crotch. Jase pinched his long legs together, blocking the attempted blow. That ugly, gaping smile appeared. "That's what I like about you, Dawn. Other girls cower, they beg, but not you. You don't wait around for some knight in gold armor to save you." Catching her by the forearm, he squeezed without mercy.

After shoving her to the bed, Jase's hands invaded her shorts, rubbing at her dry slit. "What's the matter? Can't get wet for me? I'll bet if your dyke girlfriend was here you'd be soaked. Too bad she's off fucking your big brother." He must have seen something in her eyes. "Look at you. I've never seen you so pissed. Kind of makes a guy wonder; are you jealous of Big Brother or jealous of Liza?"

His calloused middle finger burrowed into her tunnel, past the spot where her hymen should have been. The base of his finger met her fiery pubic hairs. Jase frowned when he realized he'd been deceived. "You slut! You filthy, lying slut! Whose dick was up here?" He twisted his dry, callused finger, causing Dawn's back to arch in agony. "Was it plastic? Did your dyke buddy break you in with her strap-on?"

"I've never done anything--"

He twisted his finger again. Her body was forced to lubricate itself against the invading digit. "If you don't tell the truth I'll take you down to the basement. You know what happens in the basement, don't you?" She had heard stories about the basement, stories of drugs, depravity, and gangbangs. She wasn't keen to find out whether those stories were true or not. "I could be good to you, little girl, make you come and come and come." His finger slowly extracted from her vagina. He held the warm, sticky digit to her mouth. She knew what was expected. Her tongue darted out for a taste. Jase shoved his finger in her mouth, forcing it down her throat. She gagged, fighting the reflex to vomit. "I can also make Alpha House look like Sesame Street."