Free Fierce by Kathryn Thomas Page B

there, ate there, and did as little else there as possible. Too tired to go browsing at the mall or out for a proper walk—her sore feet and stiff legs fought her every step—she decided it was time to see Cate instead.
     
    Mike had thrown Rose out over six months ago and had warned her to never see or speak to her stepsister again. But they were too close for that. Mike had left them no choice but to stay close, those nights he’d crept outside their room, bottle in hand, deciding whether he should come in or not, and if he did, which of them he should try to get it on with.
     
    In the early days, shortly after Rose’s mom had died, his attempts had been half-hearted, almost pathetic. They’d screamed him out of the room, and he’d skulked away to brood all night on his own. Later on, he’d grown bolder, angrier, harder to dissuade. Screams alone hadn’t been enough. They’d had to fight him off between them; sometimes it had worked, sometimes it had only made him angrier. They used to say he was “spitting a meanie”. That was when the beatings had started. Rose and Cate had dug themselves a nook in that dark corner of the world, a nook no one could touch, no matter how often he barged in stinking of bourbon and calling them those dirty words that still gave them the chills almost a decade later.
     
    They didn’t know what rape was until they saw it on an episode of CSI. As far as Rose knew, he’d never gone through with it, though he’d come close in the early days, she reckoned, with both of them. Close enough to scare himself. Close enough to have to mask those dirty urges in lashings of violence. The beatings had continued for years, growing less frequent but more vicious, as though he needed an outlet for something that built up inside him. Something he could only keep in for so long before it took him over. And boy, when it took him over, he was meaner than any UFC fighter she’d ever seen.
     
    ***
     
    Hi Rosie! Yeah he’s out till dinner on business. U can come over but be careful no one sees u. One of our neighbors told him a guy from school called to see me last week. I still got the bruise. Be lovely to see you though. Have u got news? Luv. Cate. Xxx
     
     
     
    You could say that. Things have been weird this week to say the least. I met 2 guys who’ve been good 2 me. One’s a fighter. I think I’m gonna be busy for a while so I want 2 see u today. I’ll call asap. Luv u 2. Rosie. xxx
     
     
     
    Sweet! Bring some D&B if u can. Been ages since we drank that. Cate. P.S. Have u still got Mike’s gun?
     
     
     
    D&B it is! And yes—both barrels are still loaded too. Hopefully, if my plan works out, I won’t have 2 empty them on that asswipe. Rosie.
     
     
     
    Fair enough babe. See u shortly. Cate.
     
     
     
    Only one shop she knew of in Mitre sold Dandelion & Burdock, a dark and delicious soda that came from Great Britain, someone had once told them. Probably the same person who’d told them eating chocolate made your brain more aware and thus upped your IQ! But they had only been seven or eight years old when they’d first tasted D&B, and it was their shared taste of youth. The smell alone created an instant nostalgia high—all the good parts of their growing up together in one heady, tangy taste.
     
    It was chilly out, still overcast after yesterday’s lingering storms, so Rose wore her ski jacket, leggings, and beanie, hoping the disguise would fool the neighbors. Seemed like all she was doing these days was playing other people. She plucked a shrink-wrapped fashion catalogue from a mailbox on the way; at first glance anyone would think she was peddling something. Rose was actually kinda proud of that touch.
     
    Cate got a kick out of it, too. After making sure no one was watching, she yanked Rose in by her collar, shut the door behind them, and gave her an almighty squeeze. “You look tired, sis.”
     
    “You look…older,” replied Rose. “In a good way. I mean no