by K Larsen
“What the hell is going on?” Dallas asks from the front door. “Are you okay? Having regrets?” He scrubs his face and gives me the most pitiful, worrisome look.
“I am better than okay. I am so, so much better than okay.” I take his face in my hands and kiss away all the doubts he seems to be having.
“Charlotte, you wouldn’t lie to me about this would you?”
I shake my head. “Of course not. Last night was...epic. It was everything to me. So much so that I’d like to try it again...soon.”
Dallas looks me up and down slowly as if trying to make sure that what I’m telling him is the truth. I put my hand on his thigh and squeeze before moving it higher.
“Whoa there, my little nympho. Let’s get some breakfast in us first,” he laughs, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
I can’t help but pout. Who needs food when you have Dallas to feast on?
34
Dallas
A fluffle of rabbits hops across the yard. They stop, ears perked, noses in the air twitching for a moment before going along their way. I didn’t know that’s what a group of rabbits was called until Charlotte pointed them out and told me as we sit on the porch eating oatmeal together.
“People should be more like animals,” I say.
Charlotte laughs. “Huh? Why?”
“Look at those little guys, they heard us here, stopped for a second to acknowledge us, and then went along their merry way. Minded their own business, because they’re only focused on their own lives. No harm, no foul. No meddling. No need to insert themselves into the well-being or lives of others.”
“Dude, that was deep, and random.”
“What?” I ask, scratching the back of my neck. “Sorry.”
I’m feeling off. Down. Regretful. I took something that was most certainly not mine to take last night. And I knew it. I knew in the moment that I shouldn’t but I couldn’t resist her. I couldn’t tell her no. I couldn’t explain that of all the men in the world to give her virginity to, I was the least worthy one and she should hold out. The sun is bright and the air is thick and hot, and normally that would make me more than content and happy, but it’s crept in, almost overnight, and settled on my chest—the crushing weight—and there is no longer anything I can do about it except exist within it until it dissipates again. I’m hyperaware of every word, breath, expression I’m giving off. I don’t want City to see the black leaking out of me. We need to get off this mountain, get somewhere safe where she won’t be utterly alone dealing with me. It’s strange to be in this rational, yet irrational head space. To feel the looming pull of the descent so clearly, but also to have foresight about it. It’s my least favorite thing about it all.
Charlotte bumps my shoulder and tilts her head, exposing her neck to me. “Where’d you go?”
“Huh?”
“Can we...” she blushes which makes my heart happy. She’s blushing now trying to ask for what she wants when last night the words ‘fuck me’ left those innocent, perfect lips of hers. I shake my head at her before kissing her neck just below her earlobe.
“We have to go back.”
“Can we then?” she asks.
I throw my arm around her shoulders. “You are persistent.”
She gives me the biggest shit-eating grin. “It’s your fault.” Her words sting me. It is my fault. All of this.
“Let’s pack up. I’m dying for a double cheeseburger and fries,” I say.
“My meals aren’t satisfying you?” she asks.
“They’re fine. I’m just craving greasy fast food at the moment. But you’ve been very satisfying.” I wink at her which makes her roll her eyes and laugh at me.
“Alright, let’s get the ball rolling,” she says, before regarding me for a drawn out moment where I swear she can hear my thoughts in the way her gaze cuts right to the center of me. But then she says, “There’s something I need to do before we can leave, but yeah, let’s round up all our stuff first.”
I don’t know who she was talking to when I found her outside on the porch this morning, but it sparked anxiety deep in my gut that I haven’t been able to shake. She made us coffee. I couldn’t touch it despite feeling like I desperately needed something to pull me out of my lazy funk. I’m exhausted. I want to crawl back into a bed and do nothing. Sweat trickles down my spine. It’s the kind of scorching hot day that suffocates.
It didn’t take long to load our backpacks with our things and declare ourselves packed and ready to go. The air in the cabin felt thick, heavy and somber as we double-checked to make sure we weren’t leaving anything behind. Charlotte passed by me a few times, grabbing items she wanted to pack. Each time, I kissed her cheek or swatted her rear end playfully as she passed. Each time her eyes did not light up. Something’s on her mind. Something big. And honestly, my bandwidth is dwindling with every passing hour. I don’t know if I have enough for the both of us.
I’m waiting by the weird structure she calls ‘the box’ while she’s doing something last minute in the barn. I still don’t know why it’s called that, or what it was for, but I’m almost certain I don’t want to know. I opened the door, poked my head inside. It’s empty. It’s exactly what Charlotte calls it. A big-ass, human-sized wooden box. I’m leaning against the door, both our packs at my feet, when she finally emerges from the barn wearing a devious smile. A smile I haven’t seen before. A smile that makes my stomach feel sloshy with unease.
“What’s that?” I ask, nodding to the old metal containers she’s carrying.
She looks between them and me, blinking. “Gas.”
“Babe, I love you, but we’re not carrying those down to the truck just to save a couple bucks.”
Charlotte cackles, and I mean cackles, with laughter. Her eyes are stormy the same way my mom’s used to get before she’d disappear for a fix. It makes me want to double over and throw up on the spot.
“We’re not carrying them down with us,” she says. “I told you there was one last thing I needed to do.”
Nodding to the cans in her hands again, I say, “I thought those were it.”
She sets them down in the grass and takes the four strides it takes to get to me quickly. Her hands cup my jaw as she pulls my face toward her own. When her lips meet mine, every part of my body sighs internally. I melt just enough to ward off the demons that are knocking at the door. I kiss her back, wanting to hold on to the transcendent peacefulness that accompanies Charlotte’s touch for as long as possible.
“We’re going to burn it down,” she murmurs against my lips. My head snaps backward and rather violently, even for me, I grab her by the shoulders and set her firmly at arm’s length from me. She yelps and gives me a look of confusion.
She throws her hands in the air. “What?”
“You’re not serious.” My voice is tight, so tight that I know Charlotte can infer my tone.
She’s got her hands planted on her hips now, one foot tapping, stabbing me with a blinding glare.
“I’m doing this. We’re doing this.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Hell no. I am most certainly not helping you.”
“You going to leave? Start the hike back alone?”
I furrow my brow. “Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte. I’m not going anywhere but I am not lighting a match either. I will sit over there—” I point to the tree line. “And wait because this is a terrible idea. The worst plan ever.”
She frowns at me petulantly, and it makes me itch to smack it right off her face. Of course, that would never happen, but at this point, she needs a good smack from somebody.
“What do you care?” She pushes.
“I don’t care. But it’s windy and dry and could get out of hand, not to mention it isn’t yours.” I sling my pack over one shoulder and stomp off a safe distance. Defiant, City is not going to back down—I can sense it in the way her blue eyes are blazing—so I’m going to walk away and stop fighting with her about it. We have a two-day hike back to the truck
and my energy reserve feels like I’ve only got one day left in me.
35
Charlotte
I brush sweat from my brow and jog a couple steps to keep up with Dallas. My pack heavy on my shoulders.
“Dallas, wait.”
He doesn’t, which irks me. I don’t want to fight with him. In a huff, he drops his backpack. It hits the ground with a dense thud. He looks at me like he’s ready to bare his teeth and snarl. I slide my pack from my shoulders, hugging it to my front with a knee propping it up so I can retrieve the thick notebook from inside. I pull it out, one of my bras flops out alongside it—tangled in the binding. Tucking the journal under my arm, I set the pack down and angrily shove my bra back inside.
“Here,” I hiss, shoving the journal at him.
He shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. His stance is wide and he looks artificially larger than life but maybe it’s just because I don’t like the idea of him angry with me.
“I don’t want that,” he says.
“It’s why I’m doing it. It’s the whole documented ordeal. It’s him. Holden is still alive in these pages.” I slap the cover. “It’s this place! And I’m here, holding him and I have the opportunity to wipe it all out; Holden, the cabin, the whole thing. I can erase it.”
“It’s not that simple, City, smarten up,” he shouts.
“It is for me!” I holler back at him. My eyes are brimming with tears. One spills over and down my cheek. I wipe it away with the back of my hand. “I know it’s arcane. I get it okay. I don’t need you to understand. I just need you to be with me while I do it.”
His face softens. “What if you burn down the whole goddamn forest?”
“Think of it like this; you’re attending a funeral with me.”
Dallas scowls, but it holds no threat any longer—just stubbornness. His hand darts out and takes the journal from me. “Why would you keep this? Document everything?”
“To get it out of me. I didn’t have you before. I didn’t have a way to say it out loud to anyone who wasn’t already involved in it.” The tremor in my voice irritates me. I don’t want to feel weak anymore. “They all had their own feelings and perceptions on those memories you’re holding. They made mine feel insignificant somehow. So I wrote them down, for me. To exorcise them sorta.”
Dallas flips the cover open and skims some of the pages. His face wrinkling with concern. I’ve told him most of it. Explained it the best I could. There’s only one part left to tell.
“Let me do this. Sit with me until it’s over,” I plead. Dallas looks up from the pages, his eyes boring a hole through my skull. “Please.” Another tear rolls down my face. Before I can wipe it away Dallas closes the distance between us, and in a swift movement, wipes the tear from my cheek and pulls me against his chest.
He lets out a deep sigh. One that sounds like it came from the darkest, bleakest depths of his soul. “Whatever the lady wants.” I smile into his chest and ignore the rush of fresh tears that pour from my eyes.
Dallas does not help me douse the cabin or the box with gasoline, and I’m actually glad. It’s a somber, lonely routine. I say a little goodbye to each room as I go. Thanking it for things I can recall that were good. Every room has something, except Holden’s. His I do not thank. I simply splash the liquid over what’s left of his things with a smug smile. My room is harder than I thought. It’s now the place I lost my innocence. A place I gave a piece of myself away, but woke up feeling fuller than the night before. More whole. I gave away a part of me and got back three parts. I don’t douse my room in the end. It will catch and burn as the rest of the cabin goes, but I will leave it to happen naturally.
The box, just forty or so feet from the porch of the cabin, I make sure to saturate. The box was nothing more than a torture chamber. The heat makes everything look like it’s undulating. Sweat drips down my spine, soaking my tank. Dallas watches me, sadness in his eyes. I don’t need him to be sad for me. I don’t want his sorrow. A wall of clouds rolls in, obscuring the sun, easing the heat. I look up and smile before looking to Dallas and then the cabin. Now’s the time if there ever was one.
I pull the matchbook from my pocket, rip out the flimsy match and strike it against the back strip. Holding the flame to the cluster of other matches, I let the entire book catch. Tears of relief, of sorrow, of so many different things, leak out and stream down my face until they drip from my jaw line. I walk to the porch, swallow thickly and toss the flaming matchbook just inside the front door.
Dallas’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. “Step back, you’ll get a heat burn.” Dallas’s hands are on my shoulders. Gently he guides me away from the flames. Blinking rapidly, he comes into focus. “Where’d you go?”
I look to the cabin, engulfed with angry flames that lick at everything, and wonder the same thing.
“I don’t know. I spaced out I guess.”
“It’s burning, City. All of it. If this is a funeral, do you have any last words?” His arm comes around me, securing me to his side.
“Yeah. There’s one last night to get off my chest.”
“Let’s do this then,” he says. He sounds tired to me. Like maybe I’ve exhausted him with all my emotional baggage.
I grab the journal from its spot in the grass and walk it as close as I can to the cabin. It takes me a moment to part with it. I kiss the cover. Stare at it. Sort of letting the enormity of the moment sink in and fill me up, and when I’m certain, I throw it into the flames.
“Goodbye.”
Embers glow, illuminating memories good and bad, hardships and laughter. I find my way back to Dallas and join him in the grass under a tree. The shade would feel good if the sun were still out, but the sky remains blanketed by clouds, as if it knows that now is not the time for sunshine.
“Tell me about the last night,” Dallas says. His hand is on my thigh, hot and sticky from the heat.
Our upper arms touch, slick with sweat as I crack my neck and steel myself. “Only a handful of people know the truth about this.”
“Okay?” he says.
“I need you to promise me that you’ll keep my secret.”
Dallas cranes his neck forward and presses a light kiss to my forehead. “I promise, City. I’m good at secrets,” he says. So I begin.
It is pitch black. I wiggle and worm the blindfold from my eyes. It is not an easy task. I am on the floor of the backseat. Holden didn’t take me with him to Nora’s. He said he would bring her to me. I am full of anxiety. This wasn’t what I pictured. He has been gone for hours, I think. The blindfold slips off my head and I wriggle myself into a sitting position. I untie my feet. I peek out the back window of the car. Everything is still and calm. One streetlight. Through a row of bushes, there is a light on in a house. It must be Nora’s house.
I bite the knot loose on my wrists until I can work the rest of it out with my fingers. It feels like time does not move. I am sure Holden will return any moment and be angry. I try the back doors but they are locked. I push the unlock button and push the door open. The alarm goes off. I panic. My blood rushes through my body. I am in the street. I am out in the open, but I can’t make myself scream. The car alarm is loud and flashing bright. Move, I think. My legs finally cooperate and I sprint for the bushes near Nora’s backyard. The branches scratch my face as I push into them. I drop to my knees and crawl over the roots until I pop out on the other side. I stand and see Nora through the living room window. She’s sitting, talking to someone, but not facing me. I open my mouth to scream and a hand clamps over my mouth so hard, that my lips are crushed into my teeth and I taste blood.
Holden’s chest pushes in and out so fiercely, that I think his ribs might break. “You should not have done that.” His voice is deep and angry. He crushes me to his chest. “You ruined everything.” Fear cripples me. I go limp in his arms.
He walks us through the backyard and up to the back door. My breathing is too quick and I feel lightheaded. Holden uses his
foot to push the cracked door open wide enough for us to both fit through.
He holds me firmly with one hand and has a kitchen knife in the other.
“Holden is here,” Nora says. I am terrified, yet happy to lay eyes on Nora again. Nora looks Holden right in the eyes and commands, “Leave.”
He laughs. It is not a happy laugh and I know his black eyes are back.
Holden steps even closer toward her, towing me with him, deliberately looming over her. “Do not touch her,” Eve screams. The sight of my sister evokes such emotion in me that tears silently flood my cheeks. She is here—with Nora. Nora holds her hand up to stop Eve and shoots me the most comforting look. I stay stock still in Holden’s grip, pressed against him so that the knife blade doesn’t touch my throat.
“Tell me what you want, Holden,” Nora says.
“You. Only ever you.”
Nora glances at Eve over her shoulder. Her body is wracked with tremors. Her fists are clenched so tightly, her knuckles are white.
“Let Lotte go.”
“Why would I do that?” he asks.
“So you can have me.”
I swallow hard against the lump in my throat, willing her silently not to do this.
Holden lets out a strangled moan behind me.
“Nora, now,” he demands. I can feel his need for her in my bones.
Something in Nora’s eyes flashes and I know she’s going to give in. Eve lets out a mewl.
“Let Lotte go.” Nora looks at me. I shake my head at her. Her big eyes are wide with fear. She is trying to protect me. My heart stammers in my chest. Nora is family. She deserves the best life. She kept me going all those months. Seeing her face again, brings back so many emotions. So much need.