A/N - We go back in time at the beginning of this chapter to when Devon first makes his intentions known to Reggie.
Reggie breathed in raggedly. She closed her eyes and looked away from Devon as he loomed over her. She felt the cold knife blade slice through her underwear along her hip, then the other hip and Devon gently pulled it away.
Her whole body was awash in a fine trembling. It was barely discernible but she felt it in the marrow of her bones. For the first time in years her mind felt clear. She ignored the knife slicing each shoulder of her bra strap and then the material between the cups being cut as well.
But when the knife moves into her line of sight as Devon teases her with it, running over her body, threatening to stick her with it, slice off a nipple her trembling worsens.
"You sick fuck." Her words are muffled. Not understandable due to the gag and material inside her mouth as well. But her tone is unmistakable. Devon stops playing with the knife as he kneels in between her spread legs.
Watching his eyes narrow Reggie quakes on the inside. He holds up the knife and then looks at her like a child. Tears fill his eyes and fall down his cheeks. He drops the knife over the side of the bed and she hears it fall with a dull thump.
But then he takes himself out of his underwear and begins to stroke. Reggie feels herself dry up, fear tightens all her muscles despite the trembling. "No." She says into the gag.
Devon just smiles. "No." She says again. But she is ignored. He lies down on her and without warning pushes his hardness inside. He tears her, she can feel it immediately. And like that she is back in the cave.
Mac's face is above her, gas mask pushed up on his head. But then it's not Mac's face, it's someone else's face. And then Devon is there and then Mac's face is back.
Mac.
Mac.
Mac.
Reggie remembers. She remembers Mac. "Mac." She says through the gag. Devon doesn't understand her of course. How could he? He had never understood her.
Not like Mac.
Pain suddenly tears through her lower extremities as Devon begins to fuck her harder. "No." She says again behind the gag. This is wrong. Devon is her brother. Mac is your brother too. A little voice says in her head.
No, he's not. Not like Devon. She says back to the voice.
And he's not. They might share DNA but that's all. Reggie groans in protest as she feels wetness releasing inside her. Mac won't like that, he'll kill Devon. She doesn't know how she knows that, but she knows it in the very centre of her heart.
As that thought takes root inside her Devon pulls back. Reggie keeps her face turned away from him. "Now who is the man?" Devon mutters.
Mac is the man you fucktard, he never needed to tie me down. It's a good thing Devon can't hear her thoughts. Because what she had in her mind now? Well that didn't bear thinking about.
Reggie snorts to herself as she tries to distance herself from Devon. She walks back down memory lane ending up at the first time she'd seen Mac.
She'd been ten. He'd been, her brow furrowed trying to remember their age difference. Eight years older. It finally came to her. He was eighteen, her mother had said he'd just graduated high school and he was nice.
That was a lie.
But he'd been nice to her. That year, the year she'd met him he'd mainly only said hi and bye. But she remembered he'd bought her an ice cream when he'd seen her in town one day. She'd been with her mother and they'd stopped for petrol, he'd been buying cigarettes.
Reggie had looked at the ice creams and he'd told her to pick her favourite. So she had and he'd bought it for her. She remembered him handing it to her.
"There you go sweetheart, don't let it drip now." He'd spoken with a grin that had her heart going pitter patter.
"Thank you." She'd been polite as her mother had taught her. She'd also been taught not to speak to strangers but her mother had already said he was nice when she'd introduced him a few weeks ago. Surely that meant it was okay to talk to Mac?
"You've got a weird name." She'd said not realising he could take it as an insult. He hadn't though.
"My mother's mother's maiden name." He'd answered. "Know what I mean by that?" Reggie shook her head. "Well, what I mean is that it's my grandmother's last name before she got married. Understand now?" He'd been patient.
Reggie frowned as she worked it out in her head. "Yeah, your mama's mother. It was her name when she was born?" She clarified and Mac nodded. "Well, what's your whole name then?" She questioned.
He'd paused as he'd looked at her while licking his own ice cream. Then, performing a mock bow he'd spoken. "MacQuade Johnson at your service sweetheart." Reggie had squirmed in pleasure at being called sweetheart again.
Her mother had chosen that moment to leave the store. "Regina, let's go." She'd nodded at Mac without speaking and Mac had nodded back. He'd looked down at Reggie and winked causing her to blush furiously. "Be seeing you sweetheart."
When he'd turned and walked to his own beat up red truck, he hadn't looked back.
A stinging slap on her face brings her back to the present. "You pay attention to me Regina!" Devon nearly screeched at her. She looked over at him with dead eyes. She was bound and gagged and he'd just raped her. And that wasn't enough, she still had to give him her attention.
Reggie fought down the shudder at the look on Devon's face. Once wasn't going to be enough. She could tell. His eyes, widening and blinking rapidly at her caused a shiver up and down her spine. Devon leaned down to her and before she knew what he was doing he'd kissed her over her gag. His tongue somehow wound into her mouth.
She tried to bite it but the gag wouldn't let her. But he knew what she'd tried to do. Rearing back Devon slapped her again. "You try to pull that shit and I'll dope you up." Reggie froze. He'd done that for the better part of ten years. It was the one thing she had to avoid at all costs.
She ignores the little voice in her head telling her to accept the oblivion. No, she couldn't allow that. She wouldn't allow that. She needed to survive. She had to find Mac. She had to. Reining herself in Reggie closed her eyes and ignored Devon.
When he slapped her again, he slapped her breast before grabbing and pinching her nipple harshly. Reggie's eyes opened in shock. Devon was staring down at her. "You don't look away from me until I say so, you got that little sister?" Her skin crawling at the crazy in his eyes, Reggie nodded.
Mac, she remembered him, she had to find a way to get to him. To make sure he was okay. She knew he wasn't, her memory was still Swiss cheese but she remembered some things. One of them that he'd been using when she'd last seen him and he'd been high when she'd seen him at the bar.
How could she have forgotten him? How? Devon made you forget him. Her inner voice answers her.
Devon has to die. She answered her inner voice.
Reggie looks up into Devon's eyes even as she thinks of Mac. When Devon moves into the bathroom Reggie takes advantage to look down at her body.
It was still there, Mac's framed bite mark. Reggie breathed in deeply. She could do this, it was just the same as last time. Or nearly. Her eyes widened as Walter opened the door and came in. He looked his fill at Reggie but didn't touch.
"Son, I'm going to need your help with a few things. You'll need to make sure Regina is secured, we can't have her getting loose." Devon came out and leaned a shoulder on the door jamb.
"When do you need me?" He wiped his hands on a towel as he glanced over at Reggie.
"In the morning, I'll pick you up at seven." Walter clasped his shoulder. "It's good to have you back."
Devon drew Walter in for a hug. "It's good to be back Dad." Reggie's stomach roiled as they hugged. She'd seen them do it before, but seeing them do it again just brought home to her how truly screwed her family, her blood was.
Closing her eyes, getting a reprieve while Devon was occupied Reggie let her mind drift. She remembered…what exactly? She focused on Mac and remembered as much about him as she could. It could only help.
His dark eyes, dark hair. The moles on his face, two of them, just above his upper lip and beside a nostril. The weird combination homemade and professional tattoos. The way he always bit his thumb nail, but never any other nail. The way he gnawed on his lips when he was thinking.
The way he looked at her. The way he called her pretty girl.
A sob tries to work its way out but Reggie won't allow it, she can't allow it. She has to get through this without being doped up. She has to get to Mac, back to Mac? She can't remember.
Okay, you can do this. You can do this. Just think of the last thing you remember about him, when was the last time you spoke to him? She questioned herself as Walter and Devon talk in the background.
When he dropped me off at the police station in Los Angeles. Reggie answered herself. We went through our plan, we kissed and I left. I haven't seen him since. He kept his promise not to come for me. No matter how many times I wanted him to, he kept his promise. And now when I need him, he's not coming!
Her mind fractures on that thought and before she realises what she is doing she suddenly convulses on the bed in a roiling, screaming mass of crazy.
"Mac!" She screams behind the cloth in her mouth and the gag keeping it there. "Mac!" Over and over she screams his name.
He doesn't answer. And he doesn't come for her.
A pinprick on her arm has her sliding into oblivion.
##########
Walter watches as Regina becomes unconscious. She was a pretty girl, not beautiful, but pretty. She was a throwback to some wetback origins with her olive skin. But her eyes came from somewhere else altogether. They were light coloured and sometimes Walter swore they looked straight into his soul. Well, they would if he had one. Souls didn't exist. Walter didn't believe in God or the Devil.
To his own detriment.
But, she was going to be a liability. He knew it, could sense it in the very marrow of his bones. Devon was not going to want to get rid or her or put her back into a loony bin or let her go. He sighed as he lamented Mac's being gone. Despite their antagonistic relationship, Mac would've taken care of Regina in a heartbeat with a smile on his face all the while.
Frowning Walter looks at the bite mark on her pelvis. He takes a step closer to the bed and stares down at it. Devon was right, she had a frame inked around it. An ornate black and purple frame. Delicately done, all the more complicated for its delicacy. It was truly exquisite.
And fucked up.
Something ticks away in the back of Walter's brain, almost like a clock ticking down. But he doesn't wonder on it. Too much of his life feels like that these days. He smacks the back of Devon's head sharply when he growls at him for running a finger over the tattoo.
"She's my daughter, like you're my son. You may fuck her, but she's my blood too boy. You got that?" His accent deepened as he spoke to Devon. He watched Devon flinch away from him and nearly sighed. Mac would never have flinched. Mac would have spit in his face and then some possibly. "Relax, your mother would come back to life and murder me if I touched her like that. But you keep it in your pants when you have obligations to uphold boy. And don't you forget it."
Giving a last glance at the scar and tattoo Walter walked back outside. He shut the door behind him and stood there silently as he listened to Devon's footsteps cross the room and lock it behind him. "Good boy." He said quietly.
"Night Dad." Devon answered him before Walter heard his steps move away.
##########
Devon hated wearing a mask when he cooked. He hated working in a cave. He hated the chemical smell that surrounded him now and seeped into his pores. He hated cooking.
He took off the mask and inhaled then coughed. He grabbed up Regina from where she was laying on a mattress he'd brought in from Mac's old house and dragged her outside with him.
The day is waning and Devon breathes in deeply.
He loved the desert, he loved Cainville, he loved working here in Utah with his father. He loved the woman cowering at his feet. He looked down and held himself in. He wanted to kick some life back into her, kick something back into her.
Ever since she'd woken from that first drugged sleep she'd been docile as a cow. He'd hit, kicked, slapped and yelled at her to no avail. Regina followed his orders, did as she was told, but she rarely responded to him.
Sometimes Devon found himself almost flinching from her. She was quiet, she'd always been quiet. Now though, she was scary. No he nearly smacked himself in the head at that thought. Regina, his baby sister did not scare him.
She was his little sister, she didn't scare him. He took care of her, he took her. She was his. Devon ignored the little voice in his head that told him she wasn't his, she'd never been his. She'd belonged to someone else long before he'd fucked her.
And she had the mark to prove it. He looked down at her lying there in the dirt at his feet. She was filthy. He couldn't find it in him to wash her more than once or twice a week. He himself was fastidious, showered twice a day.
Regina however hadn't even told him she'd started menstruating, he'd only found out when he'd seen her bleeding. Devon had thought she didn't menstruate because of the birth control shots. And it was only then he'd realised she was probably due for one.
Walter knew a doctor. So Devon had cleaned her up one night a couple of weeks back and dragged her to the doctor in New Mexico. He'd checked her out, given him some specific pills for certain issues, given her a shot and told him when to bring her back.
He'd also said to be careful, that she was in danger of sustaining permanent internal damage from his treatment of her. If she did, she'd become sterile. He didn't fucking care, couldn't stand children, they were all little cunts.
The doctor however had refused to take care of her childbearing capability permanently. He'd looked at Devon with something akin to disgust but he'd taken the cash he'd been given, counted it carefully and told him when to bring her back for her next shot.
And Devon had. Looking up into the twilight sky Devon felt the winter wind cooling the sweat on his skin. Autumn was nearly gone. He looked out over the canyon and thought of Mac. Wondered how long he'd lain there dead with Terra before the coyotes had come and taken care of them.
Torn the flesh from his bones, cracked them for the marrow. How had he tasted? Like the drugs Walter said he'd been practically eating instead of food? Had they noticed a difference in his flesh to Terra's flesh? Terra who had taken Mac over the cliff with her instead of allowing him to just have his fun and let her go.
He had intended to rape her, that much Devon knew. He could have told Mac Terra was a wildcat, that she had a sense of justice a mile wide and wouldn't have taken his shit on her worst day.
But he'd thought it funnier to let Mac figure it out for himself. He was glad he was dead.
Devon himself might be Walter's favourite but Walter had had a soft spot for Mac. Despite his crazy. Or because of his crazy more like it.
Shaking his head Devon dragged Regina up and pulled her back inside the cave. He had work to do.
##########
Reggie lolled on the mattress, it was her favourite place to be because it smelled like Mac. Despite or in spite of what Devon did to her on it, the mattress was her one tangible link to Mac. And it still smelled like him.
She was glad Devon didn't wash her very much because it meant that she smelled a little like Mac most of the time. She was already grieving for the day that her smell alone seeped into the mattress and she didn't smell like Mac anymore.
It had taken weeks for her to figure out that Devon and Walter thought he was dead. And it had taken more weeks for her to realise he wasn't coming for her. Would never come for her.
But she couldn't shake the feeling that he was still alive. But if he was alive, where was he? Reggie knew she was his property, he'd trained her to believe that, now that she had some memory she knew it to be true.
If he was alive though, where was he? She spent most days ferreting through her Swiss cheese memory for whatever fragments of Mac she could remember. It was slow and painstaking work but thankfully it kept her occupied.
Devon she was sure thought she was off with the fairies, but she wasn't. She was just…remembering.
And she was waiting.
Because something recently told her Mac was coming for her. She wasn't sure when, or how even. But she felt that he would come. A smile flits across her face as she thinks of how he's going to peel the skin from Devon's bones.
Not paying attention to Reggie, Devon nevertheless shivers as his spine suddenly crawls in dread. He whips around quickly only to see nothing there. He glances down at Regina and frowns at her. She's looking at him, or through him rather. Just like always.
But for a second he was sure he'd seen something in her eyes.
Something that reminded him of Mac.
Shaking off his crazy thoughts Devon turns his back on his sister and gets back to work. He doesn't see her look him over with disdain as he does so. He doesn't see Reggie's mouth move and form a word, just one word.
Mac.
##########
Flashback…
"Ready?" Mac asks as he stares at a naked Reggie. He's holding her left hand and she's bracing her right on his shoulder.
"Yes, I'm…." Without hesitation Mac twists her fingers before she can say the word ready and Reggie moans in pain. She's still naked which is stupid but she knew he'd want to take her one more time. And he did.
Her moan of pain was a turn on, she knew it and he knew it and he liked that he didn't need to hide it with his girl.
Letting go of Reggie's broken fingers Mac slides his hands around her waist and pulls her down on to his lap. She straddles him, moving her hips as he manhandles his cock and holds it steady for her to slide down on him.
"So good." Reggie murmurs as Mac fucks her long and slow. She clenches down on him and he moans for her, making her smile. Winding her good arm around Mac Reggie simply holds on, allowing Mac to do with her what he will.
It'll be good, she knows that. Whatever Mac does to her, whatever scar he gives her, whatever bruise he bestows, she loves each and every one. "Miss you already." She says softly as his fingers dig into her hips, scratching her, marking her as always.
A grunt is her only answer, but she didn't expect anything else.
Her head rolls back on her neck, her eyes close and she feels breath on her chest and then those filthy wet lips begin to torture her. Scraping her skin, biting and sucking her, and then they move up to her neck, the opposite side of where her scar is and they bite and suck marks on her there too.
Knowing Devon will see them and go crazy. It makes Reggie smile as she curls her head into Mac's neck and lets him have his way with her.
Trusting him to keep hold of her, she lets her right hand slide down to her clit and begins to flick at it. She winces at the burn, Mac had not been gentle with it and it was as bruised as the rest of her. She wouldn't have it any other way.
"Slower." He orders her as he stills inside her and lowers his head to her shoulder to watch her play with herself. "Slower." He says again to her.
Moaning Reggie clenches down on Mac, holding him inside her even as she obeys his wishes and stops flicking at her clit. Beginning to simply circle it lightly with her fingers, over and over, slow and steady, barely touching it really.
More like grazing it, and somehow that's worse, makes her hotter. Moaning again she feels herself clenching on Mac even harder even as she feels she's getting wetter with every soft barely there glide.
"Oh God." She says softly. "Hold me." Reggie murmurs as she tries to hold Mac with her left hand unsuccessfully. His arms wind tighter around her, no longer scratching her.
His, "Always," Is muffled against the side of her neck. Pulling her in tightly Mac keeps looking down at her fingers playing over her clit even as he begins to thrust again. Slow as well, jerks of his hips that somehow seem to make more of an impact for their short jabs.
Reggie's heart soars at his word, though she knows better than to mention it. "Close." She answers instead and Mack holds her closer to him and lifts his head.
"Look at me when you come, don't shut your eyes." He orders again. Reggie bites her lip and Mac's eyes follow her movements. Then he leans up and simply takes her lip himself and begins to gnaw at it for her, breaking the skin, bruising it badly.
He licks at the blood and then kisses her thoroughly, pushing the blood back into her mouth where they share it and swallow it. Keeping on stroking her clit slowly Reggie leans back this time, trusting Mac to keep hold of her, always like he'd said.
When she comes it's a slow tightening of muscles and tendons. And then an equally slow release, bleeding from one high to the next as Mac orders her to keep stroking herself. She feels herself spasming on his cock and Mac's answering jerks inside her followed by a regular pulsing telling her he's come as well.
All the while, through sheer force of will she keeps her eyes open and on Mac's own mercurial ones as she comes. She knows her love for him is showing and she doesn't care. She's his as he says. She knows that now.
As Mac slows and stops thrusting inside her Reggie stops moving her fingers on her clit and drops her own head, resting her forehead on Mac's, she just stares at him.
Staring back at her Mac eventually smiles, showing red stained teeth as Reggie knows her own must be. Feeling him soften and slip out of her she slowly stands with him helping to steady her.
Mac helps her dress, she refuses to shower or clean herself up, she wants to take his smell with her, keep it with her for as long as possible. They dress her fingers crudely as she would do if she was on her own on the street.
And then the journey back begins. They travel slow, below the speed limit. Mac is in no hurry to return her to Devon and she's not in any hurry to get there. When they're back in Los Angeles, Reggie directs Mac to where she used to live.
"I can't believe he sold it." She mutters as she stares at the house in the evening.
"He's right about you not needing the space. Plus where he is now, it's closer to the nuthouse." Mac answers her murmured words. "I'll wait, stay and follow you back, make sure the fucker picks you up." He says to Reggie. She nods at him and then before she knows what she's doing she surges forward claiming his lips one last time.
"Don't you come for me MacQuade Johnson, you wait." She orders him and then she pushes out of the passenger door leaving Mac behind. She refuses to look at him as she walks up the block to her old house and tries the front door, praying it's locked. It is.
And then she takes a deep breath, holds it and bangs on the door. She allows the tears to come then, tears for her parents, for Mac and for herself. Tears of fear, fury and pain and heartache. Lowering her eyes she lets them fall, the drops dotting her chest and thin tank top as she shivers in the cool of the night.
When the door opens she allows her confusion to show. "Where's my mother? Who are you?" She questions.
And so it begins.
##########
Reggie sits at the police station. She carefully pulls on the sweatshirt from lost and found and winces silently when the on call doctor splints her fingers and tells her she needs x-rays. She tries to be as vague as possible. It's not hard. Mac had told her to take some meth, that they'd test her blood and they had.
He'd given her another pill too, said it'd make her vague and kind of dopey, which it had and that it wasn't something the police would normally test for. He'd refused to give her Rohypnol. Said he wanted her to remember, not like Devon who was trying to get her to forget. He'd said that she was strong enough to remember and not crack under the strain.
She was his and no property of his was going to be a fucking weakling. He's slapped her with those words, bruising her face that last day like they'd decided on. And he'd fucked her again. And Reggie had loved the way he'd made her hurt.
It was something only he'd be able to do, she knew that, even at eighteen she recognised Mac as the other half of her. The worse half sure, but together they were whole.
##########
Devon decides to wash Reggie that night. For some reason it was important that he did that though he takes a while to realise why. She'd reminded him of Mac today and that wouldn't do. He ignores his pulse beating a little faster at the thought of his dead half-brother.
He was Walter's favourite, he knew it and Mac had known it, had often commented on it with a sneer. And it was something Devon usually basked in, the knowledge that he was someone's favourite. But these days he wasn't' sure.
Did Walter love him? Yes, he knew he did. But Walter had also had some feelings for Mac. What Devon wasn't sure. But he'd had something. And he'd appreciated Mac's willingness to get his hands dirty. Devon freely admitted he liked to play, but only when he was in the mood, he wasn't a killing machine like Mac was, wouldn't blindly take an order to get rid of someone like Mac had.
And he didn't like cleaning up his messes, Mac had always done that and he'd never complained, at least to Devon's face. But sometimes, when Devon had finished playing and contacted Walter who had sent Mac he was sure sometimes, just sometimes he'd seen revulsion in Mac's face, just the faintest flicker as he glanced at Devon and then away again.
Having said that though, Devon wasn't a druggie, never had been, never would be. And that could not be overstated. He remembers Mac's house suddenly and that Walter had asked him some time ago to clean it out. With a sigh he gets Regina out of the shower and dries her off.
Debating for several minutes he finally decides to take her along, he can get her to sit in the kitchen while he cleans out any drugs and those stupid charcoal drawings he'd always done. Dressing her he takes up a pair of leg cuffs and grabs her arm. They walk toward Mac's house in the dark of the full moon.
Looking up at it Devon realises that Mac's been gone and he's been back and with Reggie nearly four months now, winter was here, the air was cold at night and getting colder.
At the back door, Devon unlocks it and steps inside Mac's domain. His filth. At least he finds garbage bags under the sink, putting them down he kneels and cuffs Regina's legs, she can walk but not run. Then he re-locks the back door and pockets the keys.
With a sigh he begins in the kitchen, gathering up the tins and drawings and utensils, there was no way they could be cleaned. He bags everything and sets it by the back door. He's going to have to drive over here another time to pick everything up and take it to the dump.
In the bedroom he loses track of Regina. Ferreting through Mac's clothes, Devon doesn't know what to do with them. For now he decides to leave them on the bed, but he strips it of its linens first, such as they are. He hears a soft clank behind him and turns to see Regina in the doorway looking around.
Unlike him, her nose doesn't wrinkle at the smell. Looking around she shuffles in and sits on the bed. Devon frowns before deciding to let her stay. Then he heads through the rest of the house. There wasn't much else thankfully. Bathroom last, there was green algae everywhere, mold on the ceiling and the window was painted shut.
Shrugging Devon empties it of toiletries and leaves it as is. Walter can deal pay someone to deal with it if needed. That left the few personal belongings in the bedroom. Looking around Devon absently notices Regina has curled up on the bed in a ball, her eyes are closed and she's breathing deeply and evenly.
Mistakenly thinking she's asleep he leaves her be and checks the floors and wardrobe where she'd hidden from Mac that night, as if he wouldn't find her in the wardrobe. Snorting at her stupidity, Devon pauses as his foot kicks something under the bed.
Bending down he shoves a hand under the bed and comes back with a beaten up cigar box. Opening it he freezes. Panties, pink panties. Child size. And two photographs. He remembered when they were taken. A lifetime ago. Reggie when she'd been his annoying sister, not Regina his lover.
Laughing ant mugging at the camera. His mother had put them on the fridge at their house here that summer he knew. The summer Regina had been ten.
"Motherfucker." Devon whispers as he stares at evidence of Mac's awareness of Regina.
His Regina. Not Mac's, his.