by K. Webster
Eve’s panties are probably soaked.
Oh fuck.
What if I got her pregnant?
I’ve barely driven down the street before the bile rears its ugly head. I pull over and fling the door open in time to puke my fucking guts up.
My cousin.
I fucked my cousin.
This isn’t something that goes away after two years like when I thought she was sixteen and we’d have to hide her age.
This is worse.
Not right.
Her gene pool is probably so fucked up and if we were together…
I puke again.
A hand touches my shoulder and I shake it away. It’s not her fault. She doesn’t deserve my wrath. But I’m too fucking broken right now. Her touching me could make things a helluva lot worse than they already are.
We have to get to Reed’s.
He’ll say the right things. Make me feel better.
What do I want him to say?
Deep in my bones, I know what I want. And, oddly enough, Reed would give me that reassurance I crave. But that’s not right. At least with him and Devon, they weren’t blood related. Their shit was fucked up, but not like this.
Eve and I are cousins.
She’s a product of incest. If she stays with me, our children…
Who the fuck knows what our children would turn out like.
Life is cruel as hell. What kind of shit karma is this? Did I really fuck over Cassandra so bad that God was like, you just wait…?
I have to get Eve to Reed’s because I need to leave her with them.
It’s the best way.
A clean break.
My heart slams inside my ribcage, angry at that thought. It’s the only sensible one, though. The only one that fits in this world we live in. The alternative is twisted and wrong.
Eve and I can never be.
No matter how much I love…
I shake away that thought as I spit out the last of the puke and slam my truck door. Love doesn’t matter because karma has spoken.
A big bear and a little fox don’t belong together.
That’s just the honest to God truth of it all.
The truth fucking hurts.
The moment I park the truck, Eve launches herself out of the truck. Good. She can pack her shit while I get the trailer hooked up. I busy myself with my task, trying to desperately ignore the shitstorm going on inside my heart.
Silence.
I’ve given Eve silence, and oddly enough, she hasn’t spoken a word either.
I spend the next half hour hooking the trailer up to my truck. I’m circling the trailer when I notice the door isn’t latched. Fucking bears. I peek my head inside. It’s dark and all the stacked boxes of supplies seem to be intact. I count my blessings—because after this day, I need a win—and shut the trailer. After I latch it closed, I make my way back inside. When I see her, it kills me.
Her hair is wet.
She showered one last time.
That revelation hits me hard in the heart.
Am I really taking her back?
I need time to think.
“Put a hat on so you don’t catch cold,” I grumble, walking past her to look in my room. All of her stuff is gone. With a heavy sigh, I grab a backpack and throw my clothes and toiletries into it. I’m not sure what’ll happen when I get out there, but it’d be dumb to not bring stuff I might need. After brushing my teeth to get rid of the puke taste, I head back to the front room.
She stands in the kitchen, her shoulders slouched and her stance defeated. My body physically thrums with the need to go to her—to pull her into my arms and stroke through her now tangled hair. To kiss away this day and start fresh tomorrow.
Her teary brown eyes lift to meet mine.
I look away.
“Let’s go.” I grab a few more things and then usher her and Blind Bear out the door.
She has one of the backpacks strapped to the damn dog and he looks proud to be carrying her shit for her. At least someone can be a motherfucking hero for Eve.
I thought I was that someone.
I thought wrong.
We load the truck and within minutes we’re leaving our little slice of home. I’d like to say I regret every second with her, but that’s a big fucking lie. Those moments with her are going to be ones I’ll never forget. I just can’t give her more of them. Not now. Not after what I know.
All those books I gave Devon about incest…
I read them all.
I researched the fuck out of incest.
My holier-than-thou self thought I was helping. And had they truly been blood related, I think they should have been worried. In the end, that asshole reveals after the fact he’d adopted her. It was all for naught.
Though, now, I have all this knowledge spinning around in my brain.
Psychological disorders. Genetic mutations. Physical abnormalities.
We could never be happy. We could never continue on like a normal couple because the cloud of worry would always be there. Our future would be threatened because of the same blood that ran through our veins. The last thing I want to do to Eve is bring more heartache into her life. If we had a child…if it were deformed because of our blatant disregard to the facts, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. At least now, we can have a clean break and move forward. She can continue to be the wild thing she is and I’ll try to forget the fact I’m madly in love with my cousin.
The drive is long. Hours and hours. She sleeps off and on, but otherwise remains quiet. It isn’t until we finally pull up to Reed’s cabin I helped build that’s surrounded by a fence to keep bears out, that she finally speaks.
“Atticus…” Her voice is small, unsure.
I look over at her. Tiny and frail but with the fiercest brown eyes in the world. Same eyes as my father. Fuck. I scrub my palm over my face in frustration.
“Eve.”
“We should get inside. It’s late.” Her bottom lip trembles and tears well in her pretty eyes.
Regret slams into me like a freight train, but I power forward. “I…I’m not going.”
“Yes.” Fire blazes in her eyes, stealing little bits of my soul in the process.
“Stubborn girl, I’m not going. I’m leaving you with Reed. I need to…I need to think.”
“Think here.”
I stare at her, wishing I could reach up and swipe away the tear on her cheek. “I can’t.” My voice cracks. “It’s not wise.”
“You’re a stupid man, so it’s fine.”
Her insults don’t cut me like she intends.
“It’s not fine, Eve. We both know it’s not right.”
“It is right,” she argues.
“Bab—er, Eve, I’m not going to fight with you about this.”
She blinks her lashes hard, sending more tears racing down her cheeks. “You promised.”
“That was before.”
“Nothing’s changed!” she screams and then sobs.
“Everything’s changed!” My body trembles with rage at our situation. It’s unfair as fuck, but it’s the reality we have to deal with.
“I love you,” she whispers as she unbuckles and crawls my way. “Please.”
I close my eyes when her palms find my cheeks. “It’s unnatural. Wrong.”
Warm lips press to mine. Doesn’t feel fucking wrong.
“You’re my husband. You can’t leave.” The pain in her words slices my heart right in two. She can keep the other half of my heart because it’ll be fucking broken after this.
I open my eyes and grip her delicate jaw, pulling her slightly away. “I’m not your husband.”
“Yes!” she cries out, hitting my chest. “Yes, you are!”
Grinding my teeth, I fight the tears in my own eyes. “I’m your fucking cousin, Eve. Get it through your goddamn head already.”
She breaks from my hold and kisses me hard. I hate that she tastes like sweet forbidden fruit that I’m starved for. I hate t
hat she’s an addiction I’ll die breaking myself of.
I grab her shoulders and push her away. “Stop.”
“No.”
“Yes,” I bark out.
“You’re my husband,” she whispers again, her bottom lip wobbling.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I shake my head. “Did we have a wedding? Like Chandler and Monica? I’m not your fucking husband just like your goddamn father wasn’t either. We’re just sick fucks who have a thing for sweet little Eve.”
She fucking slaps me. “Liar!”
“It’s the truth,” I hiss. “You don’t have a ring, you didn’t have a wedding, but goddammit, we sure do share that same last name, Eve Knox. Fucking hysterical, huh? I thought so too. Life’s a fucking cunt and it fucked us. It fucked us bad. Now we’re stuck picking up the pieces that are left over. We’ve gotta figure out how to make our lives work again. Without each other. You have Reed and Devon. They’ll take care of you. You’re not scared of people anymore. They love you. Let them love you, goddammit.”
“Fuck you,” she sobs.
“Already did, babe, and it was a mistake.”
I launch myself out of the truck so I don’t do anything stupid like pull her into my arms and promise her everything will be okay. I can’t lie to her like that. Nothing will ever be okay again. The tears on my own cheeks are hot and shaming. I unhook the trailer and unlatch the back so Eve can get to whatever shit she needs. Once I’m ready to go, I walk over to her side of the truck and open the door.
Her tears are gone.
Hate for me shines in her brown, violent eyes.
Hate for me.
The newest monster in Eve Knox’s world.
Big, bad bear with a razor-sharp words meant to cut into the little fox and make her bleed.
I’m sorry.
The apology is to both of us. I can’t say it aloud. It hurts too much.
“Tell Reed…I’ll be back.”
She swallows, shaking away my offered hand, and jumps out of the truck. Her backpack looks heavy, but she slings it over her shoulders like it weights nothing. No longer wearing the dress from earlier, she seems more like her normal self. Feral. Angry. Suspicious. Ready to cut throats. Blind Bear follows her out and they both stand beside the trailer as she straps the pack on his back. The dog whines while Eve glowers at me.
I want to go to her.
I want to kiss that frown right off her face.
Which is exactly why I need to get the fuck out of here.
“Stay with Reed. You’re safe with him. No bears with him. Understood?”
She flips me off. I almost smile knowing she learned this too from television, but I bite it back.
“Goodbye, Eve.”
She turns her back to me, her body shaking with sobs, and I climb into the truck.
Drive away.
Drive away.
My heart aches and bleeds and pleads and bargains and makes excuses.
I put the truck in reverse as though I can somehow rewind through every forbidden second with Eve.
My traitorous eyes find her tiny form as she cuddles her dog in the snow beside the trailer.
I look away.
And then I drive away, leaving my heart with her.
* * *
* * *
I’m numb.
Completely numb.
Sick, horrified, devastated.
He left. He left me. He left me here. He left me here to die.
Blind Bear whines, nuzzling his big face against mine and licking away my tears. I failed my dog. He’s punished to this existence along with me.
No more bacon.
No more macaroni and cheese.
No more Friends.
No more Atticus.
I fall into the snow, the ache inside me threatening to rip me in two. It’s quiet tonight as the snow silently falls. I should go into the gate and call for Reed or Devon. They would pull me into their warm home, feed me fruit, and promise me I was safe.
I consider it.
I really do.
A warm bed.
Food.
The kids to cuddle and play with.
Creak.
At first, I think it’s the sound of the trees as they bear the weight of the snow. But when I hear it again, Blind Bear growls.
I should call out and warn Reed it’s me. Just little Eve lying in the snow feeling like she’s going to die of a broken heart. Nothing to see here.
Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
The hairs on my arms stand on end. That’s not Reed. That’s…something else.
Click.
“Easy boy,” a gruff voice says from behind the trailer. The glint of a gun can be seen, making my heart stop in my chest.
“BB,” I whisper, grabbing onto his fur. “Stay.”
A man steps into view. Dirty. Long, stringy hair. Grinning a toothless smile at me.
“What do you want?” I demand, slowly rising to my feet, feeling unfairly weighed down by my pack.
“I came for food, girl,” he says, but then grabs his crotch. “I think I’ll leave with more.”
I’ll gut him if he even thinks about touching me.
“The big man left ya, huh? Didn’t want young pussy. I ain’t discriminatin’ over no pussy. I love pussy. ’Specially young pussy.”
Blind Bear’s growls become louder and I think if I weren’t still clutching onto him, he would’ve already tried to attack. The man advances and I eye the tree line. I know there are a set of stairs Reed built that will take me down the side of the cliff. It’s steep and not ideal to run down, but if I can make it to them, the snow-covered trees canopying over the stairs should provide cover.
“Why don’t you come over here to the trailer and take those clothes off so I can look at ya?”
No.
No.
No.
“If you show me your cock, I’ll cut it off and feed it to you,” I warn, sliding my hand into my coat pocket to grip my knife.
“Feisty bitch. I’ll look forward to makin’ ya scream—”
His words are lost to me as I take off in a sprint toward the stairs. Blind Bear, attuned to me, runs with me. A gunshot goes off, splintering the bark on a tree nearby. I don’t stop or scream or anything.
I focus on my goal.
The stairs.
The stairs.
The stairs.
I remember when Reed built them. I watched from afar. Devon would waddle out with a baby in her arms and another on the way, bringing him snacks and drinks. He’d stop his heavy lifting to press an adoring kiss to her lips and then say something to make her giggle. I’d been mesmerized by them. Their relationship was unlike anything I ever knew.
Aching loneliness settles in my stomach.
I did know it eventually.
With Atticus.
He made me smile like Reed does Devon. He loved me—loved my body—like I never knew was possible. And then the moment he found out who my parents were, he cut me off. As though I were a diseased limb that needed hacking off.
Another bang makes me cry out, but I’m at the stairs. I grab the handrail and try hard not to slip on the steps. Blind Bear fumbles his way down ahead of me. Heavy footsteps thud behind me. I’m quick and know these stairs, though. I race down them, eager to get to the bottom. Once down there, I can make it to Reed and Devon’s old cabin. Maybe hide in the crevasse.
Each icy breath I take, I cramp in my stomach. I’m out of shape having been laid up in Atticus’s house for so long. I never should have let my guard down. I willingly allowed myself to get weak.
Run.
Run.
Run.
I’m close to the bottom of the steps and when I see the snowy bottom that Blind Bear’s already run through, I leap off the bottom step. I take off running toward the old cabin. The rush of the river is loud nearby. I’m not worried about wolves or mountain lions or bears. No, the predator that wants me is close and he’s hunting me down with his gun. Not
hing is more terrifying than him in this moment.
As I run, I wonder how the man got here. He most certainly came from the trailer. Which means it’s likely he rode all the way out here with us. Was he the man who stole our fruit? My heart races faster than my legs can carry me through the heavy snow.
After what feels like hours of running, I realize I’m no longer being chased. I stop and listen for sounds. Wind whistling. River rushing. Wolves howling in the distance. No grunts or gunshots.
I reserve my energy and walk, knowing the way by heart. I could close my eyes and find the little cabin. It makes me understand how Blind Bear uses his other senses to get by.
My toes are numb and I’m exhausted. Thirsty. Starved. I can’t stop, though. We need shelter and safety. I didn’t realize until I’d been freed of the wild that I didn’t like it out here. Atticus teased me with a life I loved—one that didn’t require constantly thinking about survival—and I grew addicted to it. Had I never left, I would’ve never known what was out there. Now I know, though. It’s a devastating reality that I’ll never watch television again or eat ice cream or take a hot shower. I won’t learn to read or go grocery shopping. I won’t go to school or go to any more dinners at Muskies. I won’t have sex.
The last thought makes me think about Atticus and it hurts too badly. A sob chokes me, but I swallow it down as I continue to trudge through the snow. When I see a structure, I nearly cry out with happiness. We can stop there and rest for the night.
“Here, boy,” I croon to my dog. “We’ll get warm in there.”
I manage to get the gate open and then slide the lever in place. At least Reed took necessary precautions to protect them. I guide my dog into the cabin and then pull down yet another lever that will keep out predators—even those of the human variety.
Blind Bear shakes off the snow and slumps onto his side. I relieve him of his pack first. Then, I set to making a fire in their fireplace. They keep this cabin stocked with items in case Reed is ever kept away hunting or something. As soon as the flames flicker, I pull off my pack and then strip out of my cold, wet clothes. I grab the quilt off the bed and wrap up in it. Blind Bear scoots over to the fireplace, his tail swishing back and forth.
“We’re not quite home yet,” I tell him. “Tomorrow we’ll make our way there.” I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s not as nice as Reed and Devon’s cabin. He’ll learn that hard truth on his own.