don’t want to just stumble onto a mess like this.”
Dana felt tears stinging her eyes, running down her face.
She went to Warren and set her glass on the fireplace beside his glass. She put her arms around him. “Tuck,” she said.
Before he had a chance to respond, she kissed him. Her hands glided up his bare back. She wanted to touch his scars, caress them, let him know they didn’t repel her.
Holding her by the sides, he pushed her gently away. He shook his head.
“What’s wrong?”
“Everything.”
“So you’ve got a few scars. I don’t...”
“These aren’t the worst of them.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
“Show me?”
He stared into her eyes. His head jerked very slightly from side to side. “Nobody’s ever...I’ve never shown them to anyone. Just Janice. She...bandaged me afterward.”
“Can I see?”
He studied her eyes, but didn’t answer.
“I’ll have to see, sooner or later.”
“Why’s that?”
“Why do you think?”
“You tell me.”
“It’s customary to remove one’s clothes before making love.”
As she spoke those words, her face burned.
“We don’t have to,” Warren said.
“Which? Make love or remove our clothes?”
“Either. Both.”
“Don’t you
“Of course I want to. Are you kidding? I haven’t...you know...I haven’t let anyone get
Reaching down with both hands, Dana started to unfasten his belt.
He clutched her wrists.
“No,” he said.
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. If you knew...”
“I want to know. I want to know everything.”
“You just
“Warren...”
“Trust me.”
“I never trust
“Okay. Okay.” He shoved Dana’s hands away, then turned around.
“Don’t be angry,” she said.
“I’m not. It’s just...” He shook his head. His arms moved, and Dana heard the jingle of his belt buckle.
“If you don’t want to do this...”
“I don’t,” he said. He bent over, pulling down his white trousers and his shorts in the same quick movement.
Dana gritted her teeth, but didn’t make a sound.
Warren straightened up and stood there.
His buttocks and the backs of his thighs looked as if they’d once been shredded by claws, gnawed on.
The sight made Dana feel squirmy.
“That isn’t so bad,” she said.
“It’s hideous.”
“What
“The thing that jumped me in the cellar.”
“But
“What do you think?
“I don’t know.”
Warren pulled up his pants, fastened them, and turned around. His face looked grim.
“Do you think it was a bear?” he asked. “Maybe a bobcat? An escaped gorilla?”
“I don’t know. Tell me.”
“I’m not going to say it,” he told her.
“Why not?”
“I don’t want you thinking I’m crazy. Or a liar.”
“A
“Is that your best guess?”
“I guess so.”
“You don’t really believe in the beasts, do you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Yeah. Maybe. There’ve been eyewitnesses.”
“Maybe they were nuts or drunk or lying about what they saw.”
“There were beast bodies.”
“I’ve never seen one, have you?”
“No, but...”
“Anyway, who’s to say they weren’t fakes?”
“I don’t think they were,” Dana said, staring into Warren’s eyes. “I think the beasts might’ve really existed. Lynn certainly believes in them. So does her father. And if they aren’t real, Janice is a liar.”
“Or crazy.”
“I don’t think she is. I don’t think you are, either. But the beasts...they’re all supposed to be dead.”
“I know.”
“They were all killed off in ‘79.”
A corner of Warren’s mouth tilted upward. “Were they?” he asked.
“It
“Maybe it was someone wearing a beast
“
“Why do you think I haven’t stepped foot inside Beast House since the night it happened?”
“Oh, my God.”
“And there’s one other thing,” Warren said. “Whatever it was that ripped me up that night...it...it molested me.” He met Dana’s eyes. “It pinned me down on the floor of the cellar and...”
Dana hurried over to him and took him into her arms.
He hugged her tightly.
He began to cry.
“It’s all right,” she whispered, stroking his back. “It’s all right, honey. It’s all right. Everything’s fine.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
SANDY’S STORY
July, 1992
Sandy knew something was wrong.
She hurt everywhere. She was lying on her back, but not on a bed. The hardness underneath her felt like a
