Disclaimer: I do not profit from this story and all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s). Coralee Hewett belongs to me.
Please pay attention to the warning tags. This work has adult themes, and mentions various forms of abuse - substance and physical.
Under the Water | Chapter One | Bad Habit
Cora Hewett stood in front of the grimy, wooden table cleaning up broken glass from a beer mug that was otherwise slammed against the corner during a bar fight. She huffed in annoyance at the strong odor of alcohol on the rag in her hand and scrubbed up the mess. It was after hours at the Spread Eagle bar, but after dealing with the cops, she realized that her amount of work had increased and the night was far from over.
Cora dropped her rag on the table and smoothed out her apron, deciding not to put off her sweep of the property any longer. Sometimes the town drunk will sneak upstairs and sleep off his drunken state and she would rather not deal with him stealing from the liquor stash again – his vomit was on everything. Grabbing up her rag once again, she moved up the expanse of the narrow set of stairs, and did a quick search; thank the heavens no one was up there.
"Lookin' for me?" Grace Buckley called to her from the top stair.
Cora stepped back into the hallway and looked at her friend.
Grace's lips pulled back into a smile as she pointed optimistically at her chest. "Look at what Mary May and I found."
Cora narrowed her bright eyes, then rolled them in annoyance just as quickly. She was wearing a tee shirt from last year's Testicle Festival. "I was hunting for Jed, to answer your question." She walked into the bathroom and dropped the soiled rag into the laundry basket. "That shirt is in bad taste. Mary should give it back to Kenny before it grows on you. Did you wipe down the main bar?"
"Just finished with it, and besides, I like this shirt." Grace mumbled something tetchy beneath her breath as she marched down the steps. Before she reached the bottom, she turned and looked over her shoulder. "Mary says before we go, she wants us to help her take freezer inventory. Gonna miss Sunday service, she says."
Cora smiled at her and untied the side knot on her apron. "That's a real shame, but I though Pastor Jerome wasn't having church tonight." On account on the flock being so small, she thought to herself, balling the foul piece of fabric in her hands. Another stop to the laundry bin, and Cora was able to join Grace on the bottom floor. She missed the female's reply, but she imagined it was something similar to her own.
Grace lead her around the horseshoe and into the back. Casey had gone home early, but the freezer door was unlocked and wide open. There was no one inside; no Mary. Grace turned and looked at Cora over her shoulder again; wisps of blonde hair fell down her back. She could see the doubt on her friend's face. "Mary is on the phone. She wants us to go ahead and start without her."
Cora nodded her head in understanding, despite the irritation growing in her gut. It was late; she wanted to go home. In her opinion, Mary should be helping them clean up. She may have been the owner, but the 3 of them could have easily tackled the many tasks of closing time. She tried to stop feeding off her emotions, swallowing down the strange feeling, but it still remained. Cora closed and opened her sweaty hands and took the inventory list from the hook beside the chef station. Giving it a quick look over, she glanced up at Grace standing idly by the door. "Go on in, so we can get this over with."
Grace narrowed her bright eyes and placed a hand on her hip. "Why me? It's cold in there. How come you can't do it?"
"I'm wearing shorts. That's not exactly suitable clothing to be digging around in the freezer with," Cora simply answered. She was correct, however. She had on black denim shorts, and Grace was wearing skinny jeans. If anyone should be forced to tolerate the icy depths of the large deep freezer, it should be Grace. Cora ticked her tongue against the roof of her mouth with displeasure and folded the clipboard beneath her arm. Be nice and considerate, she reminded herself. "I'll owe you, if you do this for me. Please, Gracie."
Her friend smiled teasingly at her and raised a finger. "On one condition." She responded before Cora asked. "Next Testy Festy you join in on the fun. It's cowboy caviar for us."
Cora felt the need to vomit. Her mouth filled with saliva, but she swallowed it down and bobbed her head regardless. The brunette began to read over the list as Grace went into the freezer to look – mozzarella sticks and potato skins were among the best bar snacks listed.
"I'm so sick of these goddam parasites." Mary May Fairgrave's voice came from the next room. She marched through the doorway and slammed it closed behind her.
Cora stopped reading for a brief second to look at her. "What's been happening?" She glanced back at the list. "60 pints of blueberries. They should be in the boxes on the bottom shelf, Grace."
"Gave half of 'em to Kim yesterday. Should only be 30 pints left," Mary amended her. She rested against the stove and grasped the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "The same ole shit, Cora. I just got off the phone with the owners of the apple orchard and found out it was sold this evening. Any guess as to who owns it now?"
The question was meant to be rhetorical, but Grace didn't really get the hint. "To hell with them. The Seeds have been buying up ranches and businesses along the entire county. My daddy says it's not just here in Holland Valley." She hugged her arms, shivering from the cold. "I'm afraid they may come after my family's cattle ranch next."
Cora shrugged her shoulders and tapped her pen against the clipboard. "Can't say I am. Grandpa Grady would never sale the horses or his ranch to them; it's been in our family for generations." She doesn't mention that he signed his property over to his wife since the stroke, but Cora was still certain that he wouldn't let the house go to the Seeds.
Mary smiled gently at her, but even she was concerned. "Grady is a good man, Cora, but John Seed is a damn good lawyer. Not sure where he went to school, but he managed to buy off the orchard with a loophole in the paperwork. I hate to say it, but if he wants something, he'll damn well get it." She stepped closer and took the clipboard from the girl's trembling hands. "Hell, I'm even scared to lose the bar to him. No need to hide it."
Cora wasn't scared; not of losing her family home, and not of John Seed. She had seen him before, only once on the television, but he didn't frighten her. She found herself captivated by his eyes. They were a color blue she'd never seen before and so lax compared to the way he appeared. Cora thought it was funny how so many people were scared of him; she thought he was charming. Her teeth latched onto the inside of her jaw as she smiled. It was desire, not fear.
"I've seen that look before." Grace's amused voice brought Cora from her thoughts. Her friend was trying not to laugh as she poked Cora on the cheek. "You make it when Mason is around. Is it for him, or for John?"
Mary raised a brow and glanced at Cora in surprise. "Mason Kirby? That's Charlotte's boy. You have your claws in him now?"
Cora snorted in annoyance at them and shrugged. "I've been talking to him, nothing more. As for John, he's attractive. It's not wrong to look."
"Make sure to do only that; look." Mary shook her head, not in the least amused. "My daddy doesn't trust the Seed family. He thinks they're planning something terrible."
Cora rolled her eyes and took the clipboard back from her. "Can we get off my back and finish this?" She glanced at the list, but her vision was clouded in angry tears. In her opinion, buying properties and settling down was not a necessary evil. She didn't see the danger everyone else saw in them. Maybe something in her mind was broken, but she didn't care.
Honestly, Cora was a little worried that her grandma may try to sale the ranch. They didn't have a lot of money, besides what she brought in from working at the bar. However, it wasn't enough to keep the horses fed and well taken care of. If putting the ranch up for sale would keep the horses from dying, then Cora didn't care if the Seed family bought it out from under them. Maybe then Cora could pack up and get out of town.
The shift ended a little after 8 and Cora felt exhausted and dirty. She longed for a warm bath, followed by a nap. Several times had the low hum of Grace's old pickup truck lulled her to sleep, but once it pulled onto the dirt road to the Hewett Ranch, Cora was stirred awake. She pulled herself together, yawned loudly, and recognized the house amongst the forest of large yellow pines.
It was a decently spacious house; 2 stories high and around 4,100 square feet. Cora's grandpa had it remodeled in early 1987 and a three car garage was attached to the main house. The exterior was rebuilt with fiber cement lap siding, but the rest was kept the same as the original design with wide Board and Batten shutters. Cora loved every single detail. Her heart was sold on one thing, however. The top jewel; a 5 stall horse barn left of the property.
Pulling into the gravel drive, the high beams of the pickup flashed onto the house. The lights were all out, but Cora could make out the silhouette of a person on the covered front porch. They sat on the swing, rocking gently back and forth until the truck parked next to the house and shut off it's lights. Roy Hewett stood and waved at his older sister.
Cora waved back and turned to her friend. "Thanks for the ride. I'll see you tomorrow." She heard Grace whisper goodnight as she got out the truck and slammed the rusted door shut. Her ankle boots tapped against the cement terrace as she stepped closer to Roy, swaying her hips in a natural manner. "I told you not to wait up," she joked.
Roy rolled his eyes and offered her a place to sit. He laughed as she took it, heaving a sigh of relief.
Cora looked him over, noticing that he was dressed in his Sunday best; business casual clothing. She laughed and messed up his hair – Roy was not happy. "That's too cute. I can't believe grandma is letting you out of the house on a date."
"I'm not going on a date," Roy corrected her. He ran his fingers through tresses of his wavy cropped hair and brought the corner of his lips down into a frown. "Grandma is forcing me to attend a sermon at the church; put on by Joseph Seed himself. She won't take no for an answer."
Cora narrowed her seafoam colored eyes, trying not to snap at him. Roy knew their grandma couldn't force him to go. He didn't believe in the word of Seed, so Cora couldn't understand why he was listening to her. There had to be another reason for his agreement to join her.
"Let me make something clear to you." Cora was beyond mad. She crossed her leg over her knee and took Roy's hands in her own. "Annamae Hewett does not own you. She can't tell where to pray or what belief to follow. If you're only doing this to appease her, then don't."
"Grandma is off her rocker; has been since Joseph and the Seeds came to Hope County, but she's not holdin' a gun to my head." Roy tried to assure her with a gentle smile. "I'm not goin' for her, Cora."
Cora shut her eyes in annoyance and shook her head. Ringlets of dark brown hair bounced against her cheeks. She didn't want to know his reason; it would be forced. Her little brother was not dutiful, so whatever excuse he had would not win over Cora. However, Roy was, as she reminded herself, the only reason she was still in Hope County. She forced a smile and bounced her foot like a float on top of the water. "I trust ya, kiddo. Just do me a solid and bale if shit hits the fan."
"If grandma sees you, shit will hit the fan. She thinks you're not supposed to be home till later. I'd advise you to bale before she drags you along with us." Roy laughed and poked at his sister's pale cheek. "I bet you'd look awful in that floral romper she's always trying to get you to wear."
Cora faked a gag; something about that one piece made her nauseous. "In that case, I'd better go and hide." She stood and stretched her tired back. The house was too risky to attempt, even if the rose covered trellis under her window had been her means of travel to and from the house in the past. The barn was her best choice. Cora yawned loudly and turned to her brother; he was oddly at peace with his decision. "Wait for me. I'm going to get us out of Hope County one day, I promise you." She leaned forward and ruffled his hair once again.
Roy narrowed his eyes at her and swatted at her hand. "Knock it off, mean ass." He tried to fix the mess of tangled brown hair, but it was far from proper. "Besides, I want to be a ranger, you know that."
"I do," Cora agreed despondently. She gave him a wave and left him to his thoughts, hiking through the front lawn to the edge of the property. With every step, her heart pounded in her chest like an 808 drum. Her little brother wasn't the same bright eyed and buck toothed boy she remembered; he was growing up fast. The world was seen behind rose colored lenses to him, and it saddened her somehow. He'd know pain if he stayed; Cora wanted to protect him from it. She frowned to herself as Roy whistled piercingly; a wonted hymn on solitary fears. His voice carried on but was lost to Cora as she entered the gloom of the 5 stall barn.
The pungent smell of horse sweat and hay made Cora wrinkle her nose as she walked down the narrow loft. Each stall she passed was open; no horses were inside. They had been all sold for feed, with the exception of 2 – one was put down after breaking its leg during the winter. As Cora made it down to the last set of stalls she was feeling a little better. She gathered a small amount of sugar cubes from the feeder bucket on the hanger and stood in front of the stall.
"Cookie time, Rembrandt." At the sound of his name the pinto colored mare began taking steps towards her. He swung his head over the grill door and nickered softly. Cora rubbed his neck and gave him the treat. She looked into the stall, noting that his bedding looked clean. His bucket was nearly out of feed, but that couldn't be helped. The milling company refused to allow her to buy feed after her grandpa went into debt with them; Cora didn't know what to do. Tears stung at her eyes as she nuzzled him again, scratching behind his ears. Rembrandt arched his foreleg and tiredly dug a rut into the soft ground. "Sorry boy, no more." She tossed the remaining cubes into a bucket and wiped the remaining grains onto her black shorts.
The low hum of Annamae's truck roared to life, startling her. Cora waited until the high beams died out and left the barn. Someone met her at the door; she yelped in fear. Mason Kirby chuckled at her, apologizing for scaring her. He ran his fingers through his textured brown hair; the natural scent of gel circulated around him.
"Laugh it up." Cora overlapped her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. She meant it as a joke, but she kind of hoped her charming neighbor would think otherwise. When he didn't react, Cora scowled and raised a brow in uncertainty. "It's kind of late. What are you doing here anyway?" She looked Mason over, seeing that he was dressed a lot like Roy; church attire. Her lips pulled up into a smile and she laughed. "Did momma finally let you out to play?"
Mason smiled and shyly brushed his fingers through his hair again. "She doesn't know. It's not best she finds out about us."
Because I'm considered a whore, Cora further thought. She rolled her eyes, but decided to not comment on it. Mason was innocent by her standards and his momma was a fuming bitch. Cora wanted nothing more than to send him home in bliss for her. "Best not do that. She might send you away." She moved closer to him, eager to get him riled up.
Mason didn't move, but his body shivered as she reached to touch his cheek. "Everyone is a sinner, and everyone will go to hell if those sins are not atoned for. I will redeem myself."
A red flag went up. Cora thought he sounded insane; like a Peggie. Almost like her grandma, when she preached about sin. She considered telling him to go home, but something was odd about his visit. "Shouldn't you be at the chapel?"
Mason cupped his hand around hers and rubbed his thumb across her skin. "I wanted to see if you'd like to go with me. Father Joseph always welcomes new lambs into his flock."
Another red flag went up. Mason was religious, yes, and his strong beliefs in Joseph were always clear, but it felt wrong. Cora thought of it as warning; a last resort. Her body hummed in arousal. Something so innocent was right in front of her, enticing her emotions. She wanted to lean forward and take a bite.
"I have a better solution." Cora laced her fingers around the cotton fabric of his dress shirt and pulled him close. Her warm lips eased onto his. She gave him no time to adjust, rousing her own desire. Mason may have been new to the aspect of sex, but he didn't show it. His lips moved against hers and his arms slid around her waist. Cora whined into the kiss and lowered a hand to the front of his pants, rubbing his length. He wasn't hard, but that would soon change.
Mason wouldn't allow it, however. He grunted and pulled away from her, putting a fair amount of distance between them. His erection was flush against his pants and tight. "Come with me to see the Father. He can save you, Cora. Annamae and I want to help you." There were easier ways for her to manage, he believed. The wild and annoyed look in her eyes nearly made him reconsider, but he really thought he was helping. "Ruby Hewett was overcome by her sins, but they don't define you."
Her mother, Ruby abandoned her. Cora had no ties to her, but the whole town assumed she was born with her sins. They called her a whore and blamed Ruby for her daughter's addiction, but Cora's decisions were her own. She chose to fuck whoever she wanted starved of emotional ties; not because of some damn genetic untruth.
Cora had trouble containing her anger. She dug her fingernails into the skin of her palms and glared malevolently at Mason. "Is that what you believe? In that case, go fuck yourself. Get off my family's property and never show your face to me again."
"Listen to me, Cora. The Father can help." Mason tired to move close and touch her, but she jerked back. "You don't want to be left behind when the great collapse occurs. The Heralds will show you mercy, but their ways of persuasion are not always easy."
Cora didn't understand, but she didn't exactly care either. "I don't want to hear your excuses. Just leave before I call Earl."
Mason backed away and laughed. "There will be no forgiveness without pain for you." He turned and walked away, heading into the gloom. His words chilled Cora to the core, but she didn't think too much of his threats. Mason was just as insane as his mother.
Cora left the stables as well and returned to the house, slamming the front door as she entered; the concern of grandpa Grady being asleep mattered nil to her. She moved up the stairs and down the narrow hallway to her bedroom. It was to the left of the stairwell; Roy's bedroom door was one over and her grandparents shared the room at the end of the hall. The lights were all off, so she assumed her grandpa was asleep. She entered her room and flicked on the ceiling fan.
The angry tears welling in her eyes made seeing hard, but Cora carelessly tore her ankle boots off and tossed them across the room. The triple buckles caught her lamp stand and sent it crashing to the floor, breaking the stained glass. It enraged her further and Cora lost all control. She marched over to her vanity dresser and knocked all her beauty products and knickknacks off the top, tearing her pictures from the mirror. Images of her brother, of Grace and Mary fell into piles onto the floor until the glass was bare. Cora thought about breaking it, but she paid for it herself. She blinked away the tears and looked at herself in the glass.
Whore! Slut! The terms glided around her mind like a kaleidoscope of butterflies; wings just as beautiful and sharp as the lamp shards on her floor. Cora was haunted by the woman she saw, staring back at her. The same dark hair and bright green eyes, albeit there were some differences. She was skinny with long thin legs, visibly taller than most of the girls her age. Ruby was shorter, but her eyes and flawless skin were much livelier, Cora recalled. Her mother seemed to wear a halo of light around her at all times, even on her darkest days. Cora was disgusted by how pure Ruby could look with such an ugly heart. She grabbed up a tube of raspberry lipstick and marked the even surface with those same hateful words. Whore! Slut! This is what I am, she told herself, shouldering the burden. Her blood boiled, but her rage had gone away.
Cora left the mess on the floor, too emotionally drained to clean it up, and collapsed onto her bed. She didn't care that she smelled like the horse; she'd take a shower in the morning. To ease her mind, she took the Memu remote and turned on the television at the end of bed. She turned up the volume on the first channel she found and closed her eyes, trying to fall asleep to the background noise. However, a familiar voice pulled her from the task.
Cora flicked her eyes open and looked through her bare toes at the person on the screen. The calm eyes of John Seed stared back at her as he spoke. She heard his voice; he preached about the power of yes. Cora and Grace often joked about him being a yes man. The word itself had some control over him, like he got off on hearing people say it. Cora could picture him jerking himself off as his flock chanted it. A laugh tore passed her lips, but she had to admit that picturing him in such a lewd way did something to her; it lit her senses on fire.
You can look but don't touch. Cora shut her eyes and listened to John's voice as he preached. He was a talker, she assumed, prating on and on. Cora rubbed her thighs together and unbuttoned her studded plaid shirt. She shivered as her cold fingers trailed up her warm skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Slipping beneath her bra, Cora rubbed her right breast. The nipple was hard and sensitive as she pinched it between her thumb and index finger, moaning as electrical currents tore through her.
Letting her left hand continue the task, Cora slowly lowered her right hand towards her lap and slid it below her shorts and into her panties. She rubbed her clit up and down and sighed as waves of pleasure warmed her. Cora arched her knees and spread her legs further apart. Her eyes slid open, glued to the image of John on the screen.
" – just say yes." Cora bit her lip and moaned. She imagined him coming unhinged to her, chanting his favorite word like a spell. She'd keep him from getting his, building him up until he begged her; a strikethrough on a long list of names. " – by saying yes, can you finally atone."
Cora rubbed faster, nearing her climax. She recited the word over and over until she came hard. Her hips lifted off the mattress as she rode out her orgasm, blissed out from the intensity. Once she was done, exhaustion settled in. Cora flipped off the television, thanking John for her release, and shut her eyes. Sleep came too sudden; she didn't even hear the pickup lug into the drive.
A horrifying squeal woke Cora from her sleep. Her eyes darted open in alarm, unsure that she heard anything at all. But, she did. Rembrandt was so loud; he was in trouble. Cora pulled herself from the mattress and looked out her bedroom window. It faced the barn and the horse track on the far side of the property. However, her eyes were glued in fear at the state of the barn. Fire licked at the wood, showering the night in hues of orange, yellow, and red.
Cora heard the whoosh of a device come to life as flames shot close to the house. A figure stepped out of the dark, holding what she assumed was a flamethrower. He once again split the sky with fire that lit up the night. The howling of men echoed along the field, and soon Cora could see them, driving up in pickups. Their lights flashed at the house, and Cora fled back so not to be seen. A sharp pain ran through the rough pad of her foot, causing her to cry out.
Cora limped over to her bed and crossed her leg over her thigh. A thick shard of rainbow colored glass was stuck in her heal. Bright red drops of blood oozed from the wound as she pulled it out and let it drop to the floor. She cursed at her lack of common sense and stood up. Her foot stung on the wooden floor, but her mind was set on enduring it. She moved slowly across the room and opened her bedroom door, peaking her head out. There was no one around and all the lights were off, so she slipped out into the hallway and limped towards the stairs.
Somewhere in the massive house was a shotgun. Cora's grandpa kept it locked up, but she didn't know where. She was a terrible shot; Roy was much better. He won 1st place in county last year with a rifle, shooting 10 targets in less than 30 seconds. The shotgun was meant for small and fast moving targets, but Cora doubted it would miss its mark. She needed to get the gun, then call Earl.
"Coralee," the voice of grandma Annamae called to her.
Cora gasped in fear and turned to look at her. She was outside her bedroom door. "Grandma, there are people outside the house. They burned down the stables an –."
"Hush now, child." Annamae moved towards her and placed a hand against her cheek. Something warm and wet touched her skin as she rubbed her thumb across Cora's face. "I have been looking for you all evening." Her gentle eyes were calm and sincere. "You look scared."
A bad feeling washed over Cora like a tidal wave. Something was off about her grandma; she was sturdy like an oak tree, but she couldn't be blind to the happenings around her. Annamae knew something. "What's going on here? Grandpa and Roy are not awake. Do they not hear that horrible screaming?"
Annamae hushed her again and gently smiled. "We need to leave the house. Pa and Roy are waiting for us." She took Cora's hand and led her gradually down the stairs. At the bottom, Annamae led her through the cozy open kitchen and to the back screen door. Cora stopped and pulled back her arm; her grandma stared at her in confusion. "Just this way, dear. Why are you stopping?"
Cora glanced around the kitchen, hearing nothing but the faint tick of the wall clock. "Those people haven't come into the house yet." She felt a surge of hope curl up and fray inside her. "We can fortify the kitchen and find grandpa's lock box. It should have the shotgun with it."
Annamae snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. "That ole prepper stash he talks about. Coralee, he just told you that to give you a peace of mind. He doesn't really have one, and besides, if he did, it wouldn't be in the house." She made a valid point, but apart from that something was still off. Annamae grabbed her upper arm, firmer than before. "Come on girl, we don't have much time."
Cora bobbed her head and allowed her grandpa to pull her into the back yard. Tall pines were in the backdrop, bordering the house and barn. Cora assumed they'd make for the tree line, but within a few meters from the house, bright lights engulfed them.
"They found us," Cora shrieked. Men with guns piled out of the pickup and moved towards them. Cora tried to pull Annamae back to the house, but she stood her ground. Her sharp nails tore into the delicate skin on Cora's arm. "The hell are you doing? We have to run." She attempted to pull away, but grandma had one hell of a grip.
"Everything is going to be okay, Cora." Annamae patted her hand softly and smiled. "Our brothers and sisters have come for you. They know your pain and they want to release you from it."
Cora widened her eyes and snorted at her. "You're fucking insane." She ripped her arm away from her, feeling her skin light on fire. However, someone seized her from behind and locked her arms. Cora looked over her shoulder and glared at them. The man with the red paint on his face just smiled and began pulling her away. Cora struggled against him, pushing her sore feet into the ground. Her scared eyes fell on her grandma's quiet form and widened in fear.
Annamae wore her floral church dress with the wide ruffles; bright red stains wet the fabric. The blood spread like velvet gloves up her arms. The same hands she touched me with, Cora thought in horror. Warm tears blurred her eyes.
"Don't be scared, Cora. The Father is going to wash away your sins, like he did with mine. You will arise free and loved." Annamae spread her arms like the wings of a bird and praised the Father. A chorus of voices followed after, including the man behind Cora. She could only think about the blood.
Who does it belong to? Who did she kill? Cora screamed in agony, scared she may already know. "Where is Roy? Is that his blood?"
Annamae placed a finger to her lips and hushed her. The lights from the pickup immersed her in a halo. She smiled with glee as Cora was drug away screaming and loaded into the back of a white van. It was her turn to be baptized in the river.
