Thursday, July 24, 2014

No, Daddy, No: Part 6: The Pigs (Finale)

Kate didn't know how long she had been laying there when her phone rang.  She reached over Drake's limp body and grabbed it off of the headboard.

"Hello?" she said softly.

"Hey, baby, how are ya? I tried to call this mornin' but you didn't answer." It was Deanna. Thank God, it was Deanna.

"I…I need the pigs, Dee."

Deanna was silent for the moment.  "What?"

"The pigs. I need the pigs. He came back and he…and he…he cut me, Deanna, he cut me and he beat me and he raped me, and I…I…oh, he's such a mess.  I don't know what to do." She started crying again.  "It's everywhere, Dee. You said I could use the pigs if I needed."

"Oh, baby.  Can you get him to the truck?"

"I…I don't think so."

Ten minutes later, Jim was at her door in his butcher's apron with a tarp and Deanna by his side.  He took one look at her and told her to go bathe while he and Dee got Drake loaded up.  While Kate had been waiting, she'd cut all the beads out of him so they wouldn't choke the pigs.  That had only gotten her and Drake even bloodier.  By the time she got out of the shower, Jim had the body loaded up in the back of Kate's pickup.

She rode in the bed with Drake, despite Jim and Deanna's protests.  Deanna followed in their car. Kate sat there staring at the tarp-covered head as they went down the bumpy dirt roads.  She must have been tired because it looked like the lips were moving under the blue material.

"Let me out, Katie."

She nearly fell out of the truck.  Oh, God, was he still alive?  No, that was impossible.  Jim had checked before they left.  He told her so.


When they got to the farm, Kate tumbled out of the truck bed, tripping when she tried to get up.

"Katie?" said Deanna, picking her up.  "What's wrong?"

"Make it stop talking!  I don't care what you do, just make him shut up!"  She ran out into the middle of the field between the house and the barn and dropped there, clutching her head and rocking back forth.  She winced every time she heard Jim's cleaver hit the wood of the table in the barn.

What was she going to do? Drake was dead.  His blood was all over the bed in the back room.  It was all over her clothes.  His car was in her yard.  Oh, God.  What was she going to do?  She needed to go home and clean up.  She needed to burn the clothes, the sheets.  She could do that now.  Drake wasn't there to mess things up.  He was no longer talking, at least.

She stood up, making a small noise as the cloth pulled on her cuts.  Her bruises still ached, but she'd make it through.  She wandered back out of the field, back towards her truck. She got in and turned the key.  Deanna was chasing after her as she drove down the long dirt road, but she didn't stop.

"Turn right at the stop sign."

Slowly, she turned her head. Sitting there in the passenger seat was Drake in his blue MMA t-shirt, the studded belt glittering around his waist.  Kate looked back at the steering wheel and rested her head on it with a sigh.

"Yes, Daddy," she said, and turned right at the stop sign.


  1. My gosh. This story was so freaking intense

    1. I hope that's a good thing. lol. And, yay! A comment!