Chapter Eighty-One

Havermouth, Five Years Before

Aislen shifted uncomfortably on the seat of Heath’s car as his sedan bounced along the dirt track away from the river house towards the main street, her arse sore from the belting. The bright sunshine falling through the tree canopy was such a stark contrast to what had just happened in the river house, and Aislen was grateful for the discomfort – otherwise she would have wondered if she’d hallucinated it all.

“Tomorrow,” Heath said, as he waited for a car to pass so he could pull out. “I will come by a little earlier in the morning to inspect your appearance for school. Your shirt should be freshly ironed and matched with a white bra. Wear the shorter skirt. Hair should be down and make up on. You will be ready to go when I arrive and you will greet me at the door, nicely.”

There was a silence in the cab as he turned towards town.

“Aislen,” there was warning in his tone. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” her voice was hoarse.

“Good.”

They cruised down her street and he pulled up in the driveway. “I will get your door in a moment,” he said. “Look at me.”

She turned in the seat and looked at him. He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers, before reaching out and running the pad of his thumb under her eye, the touch gentle and warm on her skin. (She has the same look in her eye as my mother gets when my father is mad…) “You have a black eye,” he murmured. “You’ve cried the makeup away. I thought it was shadow.” (Have I become my father?)

She felt the tears build up again.

“Who gave you the black eye?”

There was a knock on the window from outside and Aislen jumped. The passenger door opened, and Patrick Carter leaned in. “Get inside, Aislen,” he told her, his tone hard. “I want a word with this boy.”

As Aislen slid out of the passenger seat past her father, Heath turned off the engine and got out on the driver’s side. She paused on the porch, clinging to the handrail. Heath smiled with charm as he walked around the car. “Heath Gale,” he offered his hand to Patrick Carter. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I wish the feeling was mutual,” Patrick ignored the hand. “You are one of the boys responsible for the rumours, I gather,” he snarled the words.

“Rumours?” Heath lifted an eyebrow.

“The Triquetra’s whore is how I heard it put,” Patrick responded. “Apparently you and your two friends have quite the reputation for seducing young girls.”

“I am nineteen, Mr. Carter,” Heath put his hands into his pockets and leaned back slightly on the car, at ease. His smile was rueful. “What were you doing when you were nineteen?”

“Hmm,” Patrick was not impressed. “I did not have your reputation when I was nineteen.”

“Small towns,” Heath replied. “Gossip is as essential to many of the residents of Havermouth as air is. People talk, it’s just what they do. My family is prominent in town, my father being the pastor of the most popular church, and one of my best friends, Cameron Edison, is from one of the wealthiest landowning families in the area – the girls we date are often the subject of jealousy.”

“I don’t like my daughter being subject to these rumours. It reflects badly upon me as a father.”

“Not as badly as giving your daughter a black eye,” Heath pushed off the side of the car and stood to his full height. Patrick Carter did not possess the height or build of an alpha werewolf, and Heath had cleverly downplayed this advantage until it was needed. Now Patrick had to look up.

Aislen could not read her father’s expression, but she could see Heath’s, and felt a fission of fear lift the hair on her skin.

“I would be more worried about my reputation, Mr. Carter, than your daughter’s. Goodnight, Aislen,” Heath looked over Patrick’s shoulder. “I will pick you up in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Carter,” Heath held Patrick’s gaze. “It was great to have this little chat.”

He strolled around the car and slid into the driver’s seat. Patrick Carter stood and watched as Heath reversed out of the drive and drove away before turning. Upon seeing Aislen in the open door, his face darkened with anger and embarrassment. “I told you to go inside!” He snarled at her.

“Dad… I…” She stammered.

“Don’t think that just because I spoke to warn that boy off of you, Aislen, that I forgive your part in this. A girl has to keep her legs closed, or smug fuckers like him will take advantage. What do you think will happen when he’s done with you and is looking for fresh meat? Men don’t want other men’s leftovers. You’ll have the reputation as a slut, and that will stick to you. Once that’s taken hold, it will follow you everywhere.”

Aislen swallowed thickly. “Then it’s too late for me, isn’t it?” She half shrugged and tucked her chin to her chest. “It’s already too late.” She turned and walked down to her bedroom.

“Aislen,” Patrick said, his voice hoarse with regret. “I…” He gestured with his hand.

She closed the door. He did not, as Tiffany would have done, pursue her into the bedroom. Aislen sat on her bed, feeling the twinge from her arse, before standing and going to the closet mirror, lifting her uniform skirt to inspect her skin. There were bruises already forming, she saw, running her hand over the curve of her arse cheek with a sigh, a physical reminder of the cost of defying the Triquetra.

In the morning, she hurried to shower and dress, making sure that her shirt was ironed and her make up done, before waiting at the door for Heath’s arrival.

“Aislen,” her mother leaned against the bedroom doorframe, still in her dressing gown. “You look nice.”

Aislen shrugged. “I guess.”

“Aislen… Your father told me what happened yesterday.”

“Nothing happened yesterday.”

“About the conversation he had with Heath Gale and you.”

Aislen reached out a hand for the doorhandle. “I wouldn’t call it a conversation. Conversations usually take two people to talk to each other. Dad isn’t interested in hearing anything that I say.”

“I guess… we just want to clarify… which one are you dating?”

Aislen saw Heath’s car pull up in the driveway. “I’m not dating any of them, mum. We just… hang out as a group,” she replied. “There is nothing romantic about the four of us,” she wasn’t lying about that, she thought. “We just… hang out together.” And fuck, she added to herself. “I have to go.”

She stepped out and closed the door behind her as Heath got out of the car. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door for her as she approached, looking her over. “You have made a satisfactory effort,” he told her.

“Good morning, Heath.”

“Good morning, Aislen,” he waited as she slid into the car before closing the door behind her. She watched him walk around the car and saw the curtains in the front window twitch as her mother looked out. “You have first lesson with Cameron,” he said as he started the engine and reversed out of the driveway. “You have math with me after recess, and double art with Rhett in the afternoon. You will then pack a bag and we will go to the river house for the weekend.”

She nodded, pinching her bottom lip between her teeth. That wasn’t going to go down well with her parents, she just had to hope that no one was home when they returned for her to pack a bag.

Heath parked at the school between Cameron’s Ute and Rhett’s car. Rhett was finishing a smoke with the music turned up loud. He looked through the window at Aislen and turned off the car before getting out and opening her door. “Cigarette?” he offered his half-smoked cigarette to her.

She took a puff before handing it back. He finished it and stubbed it out onto the pavement as Heath rounded the car with their school bags, handing Aislen hers. Rhett slung his arm over her shoulders and Heath took her hand as they walked towards the locker.

Aislen kept her eyes to the ground, knowing that other students would be looking and whispering. Triquetra’s whore. Well, she sighed with resignation, she couldn’t fight the reputation. As her father had said, such things stick. She was the Triquetra’s whore, but it was better to be the Triquetra’s whore than just a whore.

“Have you seen Cameron?” Heath asked Rhett over her head.

“Nah, he was already gone when I arrived,” Rhett replied. “I think he had a piano lesson before school. I got a summons, did you?”

“Yeah,” Heath pretended not to be concerned as his thoughts filled with a woman’s stern face. “It’s just about that stupid party. I imagine quite a few of us were summoned, everyone who they know was at the party. Abigail will give us a lecture,” he shrugged. “Us more than everyone else because…” (Of Aislen…)

“Fuck,” Rhett sighed. (Just what we need.)

“We have the situation under control now,” Heath was confident about that.

They both released her as they reached the lockers. Cameron was getting his books out of his locker and looked up at their approach with a wide smile. “Hey,” he said cheerfully. “You all look so serious. It’s a Friday, cheer up!”

“Did you get a summons?” Rhett asked him.

“Yep,” Cameron closed his locker. “But things are fine now, right? Nothing to worry about.”

“That’s what I said,” Heath replied.

Aislen continued down to her locker and began to organize her books. The Triquetra dropped their voices, whispered amongst themselves, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw them look at her every now and again. She wondered, with dread, what they were scheming to do to her next.

“Ready?” Cameron asked her. “The bell’s going to go in a moment.”

“Yes,” she closed her locker. Rhett and Heath had left, disappearing into the tide of students heading towards their classes.

Cameron took her hand and strolled towards their English class. “We’re going to work on the house this weekend,” he told her cheerfully. “Get up on the roof and repair the leaking gutters, so that we can start fixing up another bedroom.” The students thinned as they walked. “We’re going to hire someone to do some of the work for us soon, now that all three of us have access to our trust funds."

He continued to describe their plans to change the internal floorplan to create four bedrooms, each with bathrooms, and one big, open living area looking out over the balcony. “We’re going to convert the attic, too,” he leaned against the classroom wall, breaking off the conversation as the bell rang. As the last tolls settled, he leaned closer to her. “You know,” he said quietly. “You can say more than yes. Heath didn’t mean not to talk to us at all… Just, to, you know,” he shrugged, and his blue eyes were earnest. “Tame it down a bit.”

The arrival of the teacher saved her from having to reply. The truth was, she thought, she didn’t want to talk to them. There was this hole in her heart, sucking in like a vortex, and she just couldn’t find it in herself to be interested in plans for the river house or anything else. All she wanted to do was be left alone to nurse that empty painful feeling in peace.

They were halfway through the class when there was a knock at the door, and Ms. Grace apologized to the English teacher. “Could I borrow Miss Carter?” She asked.