Off The Beaten Path

Big Girls Don't Cry

ADULT THEMES - RAPE WARNING

DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER/STORY FURTHER IF THIS WILL UPSET YOU

MATURE/EXPLICIT WARNING

Bernell held the now cold food in her hands as she sat in her cot. There was plenty for all three of them, though the boys had fallen asleep nearly immediately - after crawling into the same bed of course. She brushed her hair back, and dug in. The fish was cold but delicious. She smiled at the side of mushrooms that Lisa had obviously thrown in just for her and the boys. The bread was flat and stale, but filling. Gabriel mumbled and rolled over, making Bernell grin as she licked the food off her fingers. Abashed she realized she'd eaten everything on the plate. She grimaced at the taste in her mouth and went outside, her toothbrush and cleaning powder in hand. The ground was cold enough to shoot straight up through the soles of her feet and into her shins. The muscles ached with the chill. She rushed to the horses pen, dumping a small amount of water on the plate and swishing it around before dumping the liquid and putting the plate in the cart. She dusted her brush with the oral powder and started scrubbing furiously, paying close attention to her tongue.

She hated smelling bad. She hated her breath smelling bad. She gargled and spat, dancing foot to foot. Looking around, shivering uncontrollably, she wet a rag and quickly washed her face, neck, and arm pits. She tossed the rag into the wagon and raced back into her tent, curling beneath the blankets, rubbing her feet together furiously to try and restore warmth to her frozen limbs. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. The tent flapped in the breeze, the cold seemed to creep up and around the edges of her terrible bed. She felt the tears leak out of her eyes, dampen the jacket she was using as a pillow. It was better than the pile of hay they'd been sleeping on, at least.

She smiled with her eyes closed. She could imagine walking down the streets to her home, her little house stood proudly in defiance of its larger neighbors. A quaint one story smooshed between two large store fronts with second stories made for living quarters. It was Tudor style, with white-washed walls. Dirt had turned them more of a brownish grey at the bottom three feet. The windows were framed by soft yellow curtains. Light shone out towards the street. It was eerily quiet. She moved forward, her shoes clicking loudly on the cobblestone street beneath her. The door gave way easily. Bernell felt annoyance surge. Tom hadn't locked it. Again.

Her mouth opened to admonish him, but the complaints died on her lips. He was laying in the bed with the boys, reading one of her books to them. Ezra was sleeping, looking like a doll in comparison to his father's size. Gabriel blinked once, struggling to open his eyes. Smiled and nodded sleepily. Blinked again and fell forward. Tom suppressed a giggle as he met her face.

God was he beautiful. Graceful, powerful, strong, understanding. He slid from the boys bed, pausing to tuck them in, kissing each on the forehead before turning to her. He moved across the room and Bernell felt the electric pull towards him. She stepped forward, meeting him as he grabbed her, pulling him against his chest. Passion erupted in her - she didn't know why, but she missed him. She missed him powerfully. Tears fell down her face as he kissed her deeply, pulling back and peppering her face, kissing her tears away. He moved a hand to her hair, tangling his fingers in it as her mouth searched along his neck, his jawline, for his mouth. His hand tightened painfully.

"Ow." She whispered as his hands ravaged. They were cold. So cold.

"Tom!" Her house was dark and damp now, cloth instead of plaster and wood.

Her eyes jolted open as the mouth crushed against hers. confused she squealed in her throat, moving her hands to push the man back. He grabbed her harder, making tears of pain well and spill over. Her scalp felt as though it were bleeding. His other hand was free, moving to pull her pants down. She struggled and squirmed against him, feeling his arousal pressing against the skin of her stomach. Her dinner roiled around, threatening to come back up. She could feel it in her throat, taste it at the back of her mouth.