On A Dark Horse - Devour fic - R
Title: On A Dark Horse
Fandom: Devour
Disclaimer: not my characters. just for fun.
Warnings: spoilers for movie; incest; rape; implied pedophilia; child abuse; perhaps slight AU
Pairings: Jake/Dakota, Dakota’s dad/Dakota, implied Jake/Connie
Rating: R
Wordcount: 4170
Point of view: third
When Dakota was very young, she imagined a valiant prince on a white stallion rescuing her. He’d gallop up to their ramshackle house at the edge of Cheever Lake and challenge her father to a duel. She and Momma would watch from the window, in awe and apprehension, as the prince and her father exchanged blows.
Over the years, Dakota’s vision of the prince changed. He went from dark hair and dark eyes to blond and blue-eyed, imposing stature to barely taller than her. But, finally, at the beginning of eighth grade, her daydream settled on dark blond hair and the most beautiful hazel eyes she’d ever see.
-
Connie and Jake. She couldn’t get between them no matter how she tried. She offered Jake anything he wanted but he never took her up on it. Connie did, though. From what she figured, his home life couldn’t be much better than hers.
Jake, though… there was a conundrum. Two parents, good home, steady flow of money-Jake could go places, if he wanted. He was awesome at basketball, could work wonders on a computer, and had even the teachers giving him third glances.
But he seemed content with his mom and Connie and Cheever Lake. And Dakota didn’t understand. Couldn’t. Had she the choice, she’d run and never look back.
-
Eighth grade ended. Dakota didn’t hear from Jake or Connie for three months, till the beginning of freshmen year. Somehow, all three of them had identical schedules.
When Jake walked into their first hour, the second to last student, Dakota saw him meet Connie’s eyes and grin.
-
They never really talked about the future, any of them. Connie said he expected his dad to kill him before he reached twenty. Dakota said she bet she’d kill herself before then.
Jake gave them both hard looks, huge hazel eyes full of something she couldn’t name, and told them they were not allowed to die.
Connie glanced at Dakota and she shrugged. Jake had just turned fifteen; Connie hadn’t been able to get him a present, but Dakota gave him a new basketball.
“Promise me,” Jake whispered, kneeling beside Connie and staring into his eyes. “Promise me you won’t die.”
The three knew that was a promise no one could keep, but they swore all the same.
-
Dakota seduced Jake on his seventeenth birthday. He told her it was his first and she kissed his forehead, said she’d make him feel like he’d never felt before.
It was a power-trip, the control she had over men, and she hated her father for ruining her to anything else.
After, on the edge of sleep in his arms, she heard Jake whisper in her ear, “He’ll get his, Dakota, I swear. He’ll pay.”
She snuggled closer, feeling safe for the first time in a long while.
-
Jake never talked about his family much, or his home life. Connie would bitch about his father at the slightest provocation, and Dakota never shied from the truth. Jake was a good listener. Dakota never felt like she was talking to a wall or being ignored. Around Jake, no matter what mood he was in or the day he’d had, she always knew she was safe with him.
The summer Dakota was nineteen, her father forced himself on her for the first time in almost four years. Dakota endured it, sobbing silently, and when he left, she lay on her bed staring at the ceiling.
She felt empty, nothing-just used. Something used and cast aside, something used because it was there, but not really wanted. Unneeded. Something that had no other purpose.
And she wanted Jake. She just wanted to look at him, to hear him, to feel his touch on her skin. So she pulled on her clothes-the T-shirt backwards and her jeans unbuttoned-and fled the house, rushing past her mother without stopping, unheeding of Dad’s yell.
She took shortcuts, stealing through backyards and private property, not even aware of the tears pouring down her face. She reached Jake’s front door breathlessly and banged on it for almost a minute before it opened to reveal Jake’s dad.
“Dakota?” he asked, eyes widening.
“Is Jake home?” she gasped out and he nodded, stepping back.
She breezed past him and up the stairs, tears still building behind her eyes and spilling over. She paused at Jake’s door, wondering what she was doing. She leaned forward just resting on the wood, and when it opened, she floundered, trying to keep her balance. He caught her as she fell and then sank beneath her weight, cradling her in his arms.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, shifting her around, settling her tight in his grip. “I’ve got you, ‘ kota. You’re safe now.”
It took close to half an hour, but finally she calmed, slipped easily into sleep.
When she woke, she was still cradled in his arms, but they were on his bed, nestled in his blankets.
“You’re getting out of there, Dakota,” Jake said firmly. “And you won’t go back alone.”
She shifted and curled up against him, warm and safe. She didn’t say anything and he softly pressed a kiss to her hair. He moved slightly and she turned to face him.
Jake’s eyes were kind, but she saw the rage building. She shivered and laid her head on his shoulder, unable to think beyond the moment, the safety in his scent.
“Trust me,” he murmured, raising a hand to tangle his fingers in her hair. “I’ve got you now, Dakota. You’re safe now.” He kissed the side of her head. “He won’t lay a hand on you ever again.”
She sank back into sleep and dreamed of Jake on a large black stallion, cutting off her father’s head with one slice of his sword.
-
She spent a week with Jake, rarely left his room. She showered at least twice a day. Jake sometimes joined her but never made a move. He helped wash her clean and assured her she wasn’t tainted, wasn’t broken. “You’re out of his reach, ‘ kota,” Jake murmured. “And he’ll pay. I promise.”
A few times, while she huddled in his bed, swaddled in his blankets, she heard Jake and his dad arguing. Sometimes Mr. Grey yelled, but Jake never raised his voice. She couldn’t make out the words of either, just the tone.
Dakota knew it was about her. On her sixth day at Jake’s house, she woke cradled in his arms to see his smile. “I found a place for you,” he said. “I’ve spoken to the college; they’ll let you and Connie move into dorms on Monday.”
Her eyes widened and she couldn’t look away from his face. “For real?” she asked, terrified it would fall through.
“For real,” he affirmed, lowering his head to softly kiss her lips. “And I’ve got a job lined up for you, if you want it.”
She started crying and pressed her forehead into his chest. “I think I love you,” she whispered through the tears but didn’t believe he heard her.
-
Freshman year was fine. Dakota lived at the dorm or she lived at Jake’s, but she never went home. She never saw her father or mother, didn’t want to.
Connie raised his eyebrows for a few days, but then moved past it. He had his own ghosts to escape.
A few bastard teachers tried to take advantage of her, and she let them. Dakota knew she wasn’t a genius like Jake, but she wasn’t a fool, either. It was easy to let them play with her body because she took herself far away, to Jake’s bedroom and Jake’s bed, to Jake’s soft eyes and strong arms, to Jake’s voice telling her everything would be okay. The clichéd words sounded like truth when he murmured them, and she was safe.
Jake watched her like a hawk, prepared to swoop in and rescue her the second she needed it. And that was a sensation she’d never felt before, something she’d never imagined feeling. Someone cared for her, wanted to protect her-she preened beneath his attention.
But the months passed and Dakota began taking advantage of his protectiveness. So Jake shifted back to Connie, spent his time with Connie. Dakota was annoyed at first, then a little hurt-but she’d never been able to count on anyone, so it wasn’t new, Jake’s abandonment.
Towards the end the first semester, Jake stopped by Dakota’s dorm room. When she got back from her shower, he was reclining on her bed, reading their history text. She paused in the doorway a moment, hesitant, but he raised his eyes from the book to her face. “Hey, ‘ kota,” he said and smiled, closing the book and placing it beside him. She stepped in and shut the door, reached up to pull the towel from her hair. It was getting long and unwieldy, hanging to the middle of her back. She’d been thinking of what to do with it-probably get it cut sometime soon.
“Jake,” she replied, dropping the towel on the foot of the bed. “Whatcha ya doin’ here?”
Jake smiled, sadly and slowly. Were it anyone else but him-even Connie-Dakota might have felt apprehensive, nervous-but he was Jake. Even when he was angry, he never lashed out at her; she never felt worried around him. “It’s been a while since we talked, ‘ kota. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I’m fine, Jake. I promise.”
He sat up, pulling his feet under him. Dakota pushed the towel aside and sank onto her bed, facing him. “You’re happy?” Jake asked quietly.
Dakota smiled. “Yes,” she lied.
-
The first semester of freshman year ended. Dakota had Bs and Cs, Connie had Cs and Ds, and Jake had As.
They celebrated the end of school with a party on the bank of Cheever Lake, where the town derived its name. Dakota brought the beer, Connie brought the weed, and Jake drove them out there.
Jake drank but never got drunk and rarely smoked anything. Dakota had never seen him high and she’d asked Connie-he’d never seen Jake high, either. So he was always their designated driver.
Connie sat shotgun and Dakota stretched out across the backseat. Connie fiddled with the radio and Dakota kept up a steady stream of nonsense, flitting from subject to subject. Dakota passed out the beers; Connie opened his right away and chugged half down. Jake set his in the cup-holder and Dakota just held hers.
“Jake,” Connie asked, “how d’ya get such good grades all the time?”
With a shrug, Jake turned down the radio. “I go to class, mostly,” he laughed. “On time, every time. You should think about that next semester.”
“Are we there yet?” Dakota whined. “I’m gettin’ claustrophobic back here.”
Connie cackled and Jake answered, “Almost.”
-
They spent the night at Cheever Lake. Connie fell asleep first, mid-sentence; Dakota draped herself across Jake’s lap and whispered, “Why’re you such a good guy, Jakob Grey?”
He stared out over the still water and she gazed at his face; highlighted by the moon, his eyes almost seem to glow. Finally, as she drifted off, he said, “I’m not so good as all that, ‘ kota. Not at all.”
-
The second semester was practically identical to the first, the only difference being that the three of them were close again. Midway through, Dakota saw her father on campus and froze, panicked. She turned around and shot away, blindly ran through the grounds, finally stopping behind one of the buildings and leaning against it.
She pulled out her cell-phone and speed-dialed Jake, sank down to the dirt.
“Yeah?” Jake answered after a couple rings.
“I saw him, Jake,” she gasped, sobbing. “I saw Daddy.”
“Did he see you?” Jake demanded.
Dakota shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she whispered, sagging against the wall. “God, Jake, please-”
“Where are you?”
She told him and then he said, “Okay, ‘ kota, stay on the phone. Tell me about the movie you watched last night.”
Dakota began, Jake encouraging her whenever she faltered. It was almost five minutes before Jake sank beside her and touched her shoulder. She let her cell fall to the ground and he pulled her into his arms. “I got you, ‘ kota,” he whispered. “That bastard won’t touch you, not ever again.”
“You promise?” she begged.
He kissed her temple. “I swear on the sun, ‘ kota.”
She buried her face in his shirt and sobbed, her hands clenched around the cloth. “I hate him,” she said through the tears. “I hate him so much.”
Jake rubbed slow, gentle circles on her back, soothed her. It was half an hour before she calmed enough for him to pull away. He cupped her face in his hands and wiped her tears away. “Let me take you home, Dakota.”
She nodded, still gasping slightly. He stood and bent over, putting one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders. She turned, curling toward him again. She kept her eyes closed, focusing on his heartbeat, on his chest rising and falling.
Almost before she knew it, he was swinging her down, opening his jeep’s door, and ushering her in. He buckled her seatbelt and gently kissed her forehead; she drew her knees up and locked her wrists in front of them. Jake kept talking but Dakota didn’t register his words, just his voice and tone. He drove slowly and surely, and when they reached his house, he carried her in, up the stairs to his room, tucked her into his bed then lay beside her, gathered her into his arms, and held her till she slipped into dreams.
Dakota didn’t wake when Jake slipped from the bed or when, hours later, he crawled back in, fresh from the shower.
-
The next day, Dakota ate breakfast at Jake’s table. His father didn’t say anything to her beyond a half-hearted greeting. Jake served her scrambled eggs and peanut butter toast, poured her a glass of chocolate milk. He quizzed her about their art history class and lightly teased her about her crush on Matt Damon.
She wrapped herself up in his caring, in his attention, and felt safe.
He drove her back to the college, escorted her to her room, and softly kissed her lips, caressed her face.
“I love you,” she whispered, looking up into his huge hazel eyes.
Jake smiled sadly. “I love you, Dakota,” he murmured, kissing her lips again.
-
It wasn’t until later that day, mid-afternoon, that Dakota heard her father had been murdered. His throat was slit and his chest cut open, heart missing. His eyes had been gouged out, nose and ears cut off, half a dozen fingers gone.
And his dick had been slit down the middle, then carved off and shoved in his mouth.
She couldn’t find it in herself to care.
-
Without the threat of her father hanging over her anymore, Dakota flourished. She felt as if her soul had lightened, as if the sun shone brighter, as if the world opened up before her. Jake showered her with attention and she preened, glowed with happiness.
But, like all good things, it came to an end. The day after their last final, Connie was in a terrible car wreck. He almost died-he actually was dead, for nearly a minute, Dakota heard, but luckily Jake didn’t. That promise she and Connie had made on Jake’s fifteenth birthday echoed in Dakota’s head, as she paced up and down the hall. Jake sat on the floor, staring at empty space, hands clenched in his lap. He was completely still; only his chest, rising and falling, and his eyes, blinking, showed he wasn’t a statue.
They were the only people there for Connie. His dad hung up on the nurse who called and his mom had split years ago. Jake’s mother would have come if she could, but Jake’s dad had work.
Hours passed and there was no word. Dakota sank down beside Jake and he raised his arm, pulled her close. She curled into him, resting her head on his chest; closing her eyes, she listened to his heartbeat. He rubbed his hand up and down her arm but did not speak.
And finally a nurse appeared before them. “Conrad Fuller’s family?” she asked and Jake shot to his feet.
“Yes,” he answered. “How is he?”
“He’s going to be fine,” the nurse smiled. “You can see him for a few minutes.”
Before she’d even finished the first sentence, Jake sagged back against the wall, eyes closed in relief. “Thank you,” he murmured, looking at the nurse. “Thank you.”
He grabbed Dakota’s hand and pulled her to him, gently kissed her lips. “I’ll be right back,” he said and followed the nurse down the hall.
So Dakota went back to pacing. She decided not to worry about how Jake was going to pay, how he’d convinced the staff they were family. Connie would be fine. He’d live. And that hollow, broken look would leave Jake’s eyes.
-
For three months, until Connie could move without wincing, Jake coddled him. Connie hated being helpless, hated being unable to take care of himself, but he loved Jake showering him with affection. Anyone would love Jake showering them with affection. He focused his whole being on the person, every part of him, and they knew they were loved.
Dakota spent her time with Connie and Jake, telling stories or reading books. For those three months, Connie lived with Jake. Mr. Grey complained, of course, but Jake ignored him.
Finally, though, Connie was fully healed. Jake moved him back to the college and made sure he could actually do for himself.
Sophomore year started soon after. Jake helped Connie far more than he ever had before because things had been shaken around in Connie’s head. He wasn’t the same.
Once after visiting Connie, Jake stopped by Dakota’s dorm room and crawled into bed with her, pressed his face against her stomach. “I miss him,” Jake whispered, wrapping his arms around her. “I miss him, ‘ kota.”
Dakota didn’t know what to do; this reversal of their roles frightened her. But she followed her instincts and carded her fingers through his soft hair, murmured nonsense in a soothing tone, and waited for him to sleep.
After he did, she shifted down to curl against him and watched over him as he was haunted by tormenting dreams.
-
They never spoke of that night. But Jake touched her more, welcomed her with brighter smiles than before. He often spent evenings in her room and invited her to go out when Connie wasn’t with him.
“What am I to you?” she asked on the fourth such outing, tired of not knowing where she stood.
“A friend,” he answered, confused, and she drooped.
“That’s all?”
“What’d you think?” he inquired, shifting away from her in the booth.
She shrugged, almost hurt. “I just…” She shrugged again, unable to think of a way to say how she felt without ruining everything.
She loved him and she knew it. She’d loved him since eighth grade. She loved him with everything in her. She adored his mother and enjoyed spending time with Connie, but the only person she’d ever loved sat across from her in the booth and looked at her with wide, trapped eyes.
“Oh,” Jake muttered, meeting her gaze. “’ kota…” He smiled sadly. “I love you, ‘ kota. I do. But not like that. I’m sorry, so sorry.”
For the third time in five minutes, Dakota shrugged. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, eating a fry. “Forget I brought it up.”
-
Sophomore year-both semesters-passed in a blur. They did more things as a trio, and Dakota gave up on ever having Jake like she wanted. She loved him and sometimes they fucked, but he didn’t feel for her what she felt for him.
And it hurt, but what she had was better than nothing, so she kept it. She grabbed a hold of what he gave her and resolved to never let go.
In December, between semesters, Connie showed her The Pathway. He said he hadn’t brought Jake in yet, that it’d be his birthday present. Connie explained the rules and she scoffed.
“The game calls you? Isn’t that a bit creepy?”
“But totally cool,” he retorted.
-
It was slightly cool at first. The Pathway would call with little things: tell Mr. Woodrow, the creepy guy who lived down the street from her old house, exactly how she’d felt about him all these years. Call her mom and cuss the bitch out for failing to protect her. Visit Dad’s grave and spit on his tombstone.
Then it evolved to shoplifting, to vandalizing, to shouting at strangers on the street. But Dakota felt a thrill, felt alive-
And Connie signed Jake up as a twenty-first birthday present. Jake scared her that night, talking about how he wanted to kill people, talking about what he really wanted to do. And she just lay across his lap, just listened, then slowly raised herself up to look into his eyes.
His gaze was empty. For the longest heartbeat, his hazel eyes were empty. But then Jake-the boy she knew, the man she loved-peered at her again and she relaxed.
-
When she learned that Connie was dead, she hurried to Jake. The promise she and Connie made echoed in her ears, their oath to not die.
The memory of Jake’s face as he asked Connie to swear-Jake was sitting outside Connie’s dorm, eyes empty, devoid of light and warmth. She sank down next to him, holding back her tears as he let his head fall onto her shoulder.
The teams-police and emergency personnel-finished up and Jake’s uncle Ross paused by them; Jake didn’t look up but Dakota met his gaze and nodded. Ross smiled at her and continued on his way.
They sat there for a long time, Dakota holding Jake, just waiting for her own turn to break down. And finally he pulled away, stood, and walked into Connie’s room.
“Jake,” she called softly, and followed. “Jake, what are-”
She froze as she entered, Jake stretched out on Connie’s bed, covers over him, face buried in Connie’s pillow. “Jake,” she whispered and lay down beside him, curled up in his embrace. “Jake,” she said again.
“Why’d he do it?” Jake asked, voice as hollow as his eyes. “’ kota… we were gonna eat breakfast together. Why would he agree to that if he was just gonna… gonna...” Jake couldn’t seem to force out the words and he fell apart, sobbing. Dakota began crying, too, and they held each other all day and night, on Connie’s bed.
-
When she saw him again, he asked her to stay away from The Pathway. And she promised, she meant it-but The Pathway called her and told her to seduce him.
She knew it was a bad idea. They were both too fragile at the moment, too angry and hurt-but she went to Jake’s house and felt distant from her emotions, locked away behind a glass wall. She could see how she should be acting, but she couldn’t approach it.
Jake seemed locked away from his emotions, too. He was hollow again, a shell. Not angry or hurt-just empty.
So she fucked him because The Pathway told her to and wondered, as she walked down the stairs, if she’d ruined their friendship forever.
-
She only saw him one more time, after. He brought his girlfriend to the diner where she worked-the job he’d gotten her a couple of years before-and ordered food to go.
Professor Hartney also appeared that night. He told her again, sneaking to the back, to either give him what he wanted or he’d fail her.
And The Pathway called her again, stirred up the old memories of her father, the old feelings of hate and rage and pain and fear.
So Dakota gestured for Professor Hartney to step into the back with her, a knife hidden in her grip, and-lost in a haze, thinking he was her father-Dakota punished him for his sins.
-
Dakota gave Jake his food and did not say goodbye. She watched Jake and his girlfriend-Marisol-walk out the diner.
She wanted to run after him, to throw herself into his arms, to sink into his comforting voice and touch and scent-but that Jake died with Connie. The Jake she loved died with Connie, was buried with Connie, was beyond her reach.
Jake left the diner and Dakota went into the back, gripped the knife she’d used on Professor Hartney, and jammed the blade into her neck.
Her final thought was of a brave knight on a large black stallion, a knight with dark blond hair and huge hazel eyes, a knight who failed to save her.