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By Root 552 0

over. Her throat was cotton, and though she knew she was making an irreversible mistake of life-altering proportions, that she would never be able to undo what she was about to see, she peeked through the hedge surrounding the hot tub and stood frozen, eyes locked on the white mist rising from the bubbling water and the two heads that were visible in the muted light. Mary Theresa, her hair piled on her crown, wet tendrils framing her face, was locked in an embrace with a strong, muscular male, one who held her close, his hands splayed over her spine, his face buried in the perfect breasts that she was so proud of. A bottle of vodka—part of their mother’s stash, from the looks of it—was opened and sat on the tiled lip of the pool.

Mary Theresa was moving up and down as the man untied the back of her bikini and let it float away. He lifted his head for a minute and Maggie caught a glimpse of Mitch as he started licking and teasing at her twin’s chest.

No!

Bile shot up Maggie’s throat. She gagged, suddenly on her knees as the contents of her stomach spewed onto the ground. No! She couldn’t have seen what she’d thought. No way. Her eyes were playing tricks on her. They had to be.

“What was that?” Mary Theresa’s voice, slurred.

“Nothin’. Just a dog or somethin’.”

“No…stop…quit it…I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Oh, come on, M.T. Please. You give it away to every other guy—”

“I…I can’t, this…oh, God, what if Mom and Dad came home?”

“They won’t. They’re at the Kavenaughs. When they do show up they’ll both be shit-faced.”

“What about Maggie?”

“Wha’ about her? She don’t know nothin’. She’s out ridin’ that damned horse, isn’t she? If you ask me, she’s havin’ a love affair with it. Won’t be home for hours.”

“She’s smarter than you think. Stop it. Mitch, for God’s sake—” There was splashing as someone climbed out of the pool. Maggie struggled to her feet. She had to run away, to hide, to—

She heard the sound of footsteps, tried to dash behind an olive tree, only to see Mitch looming, his silhouette cast in shadowy relief with the back lights of the ornamental lamps. “Jesus Christ,” he said, ramming a hand through his hair. “What’re you doin’ slinkin’ around here and spyin’ on people?”

“What is it?” Mary Theresa rounded the edge of the hedge and her eyes collided with Maggie’s. “Oh, shit.” She was tying the straps of her bikini bra.

“Nothin’ happened,” Mitch said, taking a threatening step forward, his foot slipping on the pool of vomit. “Oh, hell. What’s this? Puke? You were pukin’ here?” Twisted in pure, outraged fury, his face suddenly suffused with bright, burning color. “How long you been here?”

“I…I just got here. Just this minute and I got sick and you…you came,” Maggie stammered, wishing she was anywhere other than under his hard stare. She couldn’t believe what she’d seen, wouldn’t! They both had swimming suits on and though Mary Theresa was disheveled, her hair dripping, mascara running down her face, she and Mitch weren’t…they wouldn’t…

“Nothin’ happened,” Mitch said again.

“I…I know.”

“I mean it, Maggie. No matter what you heard or saw, nothin’ was goin’ on.”

Oh, God, how she wanted to believe him, but the look of sheer terror in Mary Theresa’s eyes convinced her otherwise. Her stomach quivered, she turned away and nearly retched all over again. Her head was thundering, her heart pounding, denial pouring through her bloodstream. This couldn’t be happening! It couldn’t. Not Mary Theresa and Mitch. Oh, God, no!

“Maggie—” Mitch warned, the hard edge to his voice testament to his feelings.

Emotions roiling, Maggie didn’t wait. She pushed past him and started running, through the bushes, down the gravel path, and into the street. She didn’t know where she was going, didn’t care. She just had to get away. Far away.

The soles of her boots, the ones she’d worn riding, slapped on the cement of the sidewalk. The hillside homes seemed to pitch and whirl as she flew down the street. Somewhere behind an electronic gate a dog barked. Neighboring house lights snapped on. Tears of disbelief and shame filled her