Page 11 of Innocent
Huck
My family has had this old truck for generations, and I always thought it would be hell selling it. But as I transfer the last of the money into Janie’s account a bit of relief washes over me. She’s safe from LochNessCock and I’m happy knowing she’ll have the money she needs to finish college. Also, the rest of the money left over will be useful to fix this old cabin of mine. The roof has needed redoing for a few years now and I could finally get that electric fencing installed outback. Truly, it’s a win overall. The only thing I’m not sure of is how to manage what happens tonight. There’s no way I’m actually buying her virginity, and I’m not sure I want her to know I’ve even done such a thing. Still, I can’t stop searching for excuses to see her again. Excuses to take her to the Christmas Eve ball, excuses to touch her, excuses to romance her like she deserves to be romanced.
Slow, heavy footsteps stomp down the wood staircase and Mark ducks into the kitchen. His hair is a wild mess from sleeping and his expression is still less than amused.
My stomach tightens with concern that I’ll never be able to fix what I’ve broken.
I pour him a cup of coffee and settle it onto the butcher block island in front of him, hoping he’s woken up with a new frame of mind.
“So is Janie going to be my new mommy or something?” His tone is crass and annoyed. I guess sleep didn’t help.
“I know this is hard for you, and I hate that I feel the way I do, but if I’m honest, I don’t know how to stop feeling what I do for Janie.”
Mark sips his coffee and stares back at me like I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. It’s not as terrible as the stare from last night where I could see he was on the edge of clobbering me with whatever heavy object was nearby. Today, it’s a darker stare. A cold closed off stare. One that tells me he has no intention of forgiving.
His eyebrows crinkle. “Look, I just came down for coffee, not a love story.”
I tip my head back and forth before taking a sip from the steaming cup of coffee in front of me. “Okay then. You going to the Christmas Eve dance tonight?”
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He grabs his cup off the counter and turns back toward the stairs. I hate that this happened like this. I don’t get to see Mark very often now that he’s in the city for college. That’s why I pushed the phone job at the tattoo shop. I was hoping it would bring us closer together when he was home.
“Mark… it’s tradition. We always go down there and share cookies with everyone in town. Don’t you remember that little—”
“I don’t know what I’m doing tonight, Dad. I’ll let you know.” He spins away from the counter and jogs back upstairs coffee in hand and every thought I’ve ever had about Janie slices through my brain with disfunction and self-ridicule.
I’m a fuck up. Who the hell does this shit? Who the hell wrecks their family so selfishly?
The worst part of the whole thing is when it comes to Janie, I don’t think. I’ve become a caveman driven on feeling and emotion. I act on urges and cravings so instinctively that my brain is superseded by some internal need that’s nearly impossible to control. Like right now for instance. Despite the fact that I know I’m a fuck up, I can’t stop wanting Janie. I can’t stop thinking about her wild hair in my hands or her soft skin against my face, or the way her thighs shook when I bandaged her up. She’s precious and perfect and I’m desperate to hold her and keep her safe from everything and anything.
Fucking hell. I pour my coffee into the sink and head out back to the woodpile, stacking piece after piece on the chopping block before throwing the axe into the center. The motion and sound of the wood cracking in two relaxes me. The winter we moved up here, I spent every day chopping wood. So much wood that I had enough to last the following three winters.
At the time I was releasing aggression that I had toward Mark’s mom for refusing to fight for him. I raised him up fine, and I knew when we came up here I could do it, but a boy needs the softness of his mother. Not that his mother was ever soft. I got lucky that a few older women in town helped me with some of that. It really took a village with that boy.
I slam into another piece of wood. The crack echoes through the forest and I lose myself somewhere between the sound and the scent of pine as the sun sinks low in the sky. Who knows how long I’ve been out here… numb, cold, struggling with myself? This may be the lowest I’ve ever been.
It was one thing knowing that Janie was out there somewhere without me. Sure, we weren’t together, and I was longing for her, but we had distance between us. Enough that nothing real ever happened. I could convince myself that this feeling was all in my head. But now, having touched her, having felt her against me, having watched her lips move, having seen her emotion,having her… what do I do with that? How do I recover from a pull that strong?
My cell buzzes in my pocket and the jolt pulls me from the downswing of another block of wood.
Maddox:You coming to the ball?
Truthfully, I’d talked myself out of the dance. If I can’t take Janie, and Mark isn’t going, I don’t see the point. But it’s hard to say no to Maddox. He’s probably the best buddy I have up here. He’s also my boss and the guy who runs the whole thing. Besides that, it would be weird if I didn’t show up after being there religiously for the past fifteen years.
Me:I’ll be there soon.
When the text is sent, I let out a heavy, labored sigh and lay my axe into the last piece of wood. I bend down to toss the split pieces into the woodpile. I’m not sure how much I chopped today, but judging by the size of the heap, I’m guessing I have enough wood for next winter, after it all dries. Trouble is, I don’t give a fuck about next winter.
My life has gone to hell.
My son hates me and I’m sure won’t look at me the same ever again. And the only chance I have at a real love has blown away before it’s even had a chance to ignite.
Chapter Nine
Janie
When I see Huck’s truck parked outside the hotel, a streak of excitement washes through me. I don’t want him to risk his relationship with Mark, but I’ve been dying to see Huck since he left yesterday. And truthfully, I’d be on the bible lying if I said I hadn’t had fantasies where he sweeps me up from my bed and we disappear to some cabin in Whiskey Falls behind the ridge where barely anyone goes. The weather is too bad up there for most people to stand, but we’d be fine tucked away with each other by a fire.
That, however, is one hundred percent not going to happen. Just like this date I’d planned for. I got the final deposit ten minutes ago with a message wishing me a‘Merry Christmas’and letting me know that I should keep the money but give myself to someone who’s earned it.