Nightsiders Read Online Free PDF Page B

dream.”
    Robert looked up, at the side of her face. He could see the faint scars on her cheek, the pits and scratches were the attacker had cut her as he smashed his fist into her features. His gaze followed the crooked line of her nose—once as smooth and linear as a mountain slope—and down to her lips. She was his wife, but different; the attack had robbed her of something indefinable.
    “I’m sorry, too,” he said. It wasn’t much, but it was all he had. All he could muster. He hoped it might just be enough.
    Her grip on his hand tightened. Relaxed. Tightened again. At last he felt a familiar warmth.
    “I’m hungry, but I also feel sick.” She smiled, her eyes shining at last. “What do you suggest?” Her hand travelled along his forearm, rubbing his skin. She leaned into him, her mouth opening, the lips parting and the tip of her tongue poking out to point at him.
    “I don’t think it’s food I’m hungry for.”
    The switch in her mood shocked him, but he was used to these extremes of emotion. Ever since the attack, she’d become unpredictable. He could never judge what she might do.
    They embraced clumsily, like inexperienced lovers. Robert realized they had not made love for months, and the last time had been a cold, passionless fuck, as if Sarah were simply trying to reclaim her sexuality after the attack and was using him as a sex toy.
    “Are you sure?” he whispered, just before her lips mashed against his mouth. It was all the answer he needed.
    They pulled aside their clothing, not even bothering to undress. The heat of the moment carried them along, and it was as if they both realized they needed to act quickly, before it burned itself out.
    He slipped inside her, making her gasp. She bit his ear; her tongue left a dab of saliva on his earlobe. The unreality of their current situation receded, replaced by the solidity of their relationship. Despite the damage, it was fundamentally sound.
    It took a few moments to find their rhythm, but finally it happened. Robert felt distanced from the act, as if he were watching it on a screen—hotel pornography raised to the nth degree. He closed his eyes, opened them again, and decided it did not really matter if he looked into Sarah’s face or at the back of his own eyelids because her eyes were screwed tightly shut anyway. She whispered into the side of his neck, but he could not make out the words. It was her private language, a glossolalia of past hurts, and he wasn’t meant to decipher the message. All he had to do was accept what was happening.
    Sarah’s legs tightened around his waist as she approached orgasm. He was a long distance from his own climax, but realized this was not about him, nor about her. It was about retaking control yet at the same time trying to lose themselves in the moment, and make it more real than anything else around them.
    Sarah yelled, calling his name. He thrust into her, and kept going until she began to pull at his arms and shoulders. Finally, he reached his own shuddery climax and rolled off her, coming to rest on his back. The mattress was lumpy, but still it provided enough comfort.
    Sarah was panting, breathless. Her hand groped for his across the sheets.
    “I love you,” he said. She did not answer.
    * * *
    They were showered and changed by the time the children arrived back from their expedition. Molly burst into the room first, a look of irritation on her face.
    “Tell him to stop winding me up!” she cried, slamming the door in her brother’s face.
    “Come on, Connor. What’s all this about?” Robert moved across the room, giving Sarah’s hand a squeeze as he passed her: she looked up from her place in the chair by the window and gave him a distracted smile.
    “Nothing, Dad. I’m just telling her about Sawney Bean, and the way his family would eat strangers when they came to town. And Leatherface, from those chain-saw films.” He grinned, enjoying his sister’s discomfort.
    Molly sat heavily on