by K. Webster
I dunk us and when we reemerge from the water, she laughs. Best sound on Earth. I fuse my lips to hers and taste her now minty-flavored tongue. I’d never seen someone so happy to brush their teeth. We kiss as I walk us deeper. With only our heads sticking out of the water, we kiss at a slower pace. Enjoying each other. Reconnecting.
Goddamn I’ve missed her.
I might have once been plagued by the fact she’s blood to me. It damn near destroyed me. But then, after my talk with Dad, something shifted. I realized I didn’t care. She was my Eve and always would be. Nothing would stop me from having her.
It took forever to get back to her, but I would’ve searched until my last, dying breath if that’s what it took to see her pretty smile one last time.
“I like this between us,” I mutter against her soft, pillow lips. “This baby we made.”
I feel her smile against mine. “Me too.”
I’m hard despite the cold water rushing around us. Not even cold ass water will keep me from claiming my woman. My wife. Mine. I reach between us and probe at her pussy with the head of my dick. She whimpers and wiggles until her warmth slides down around me. A hiss of pleasure escapes me. With my hands on her hips, I bounce her nearly weightless body along my aching shaft. Her kisses become needy and starved. I kiss her back with the same intensity—probably more.
“Eve,” I croak, nipping at her bottom lip. “I love you.”
Her body clenches me hard. “I love you too.”
I fuck, fuck, fuck Eve in the river until she’s calling my name and I claim her by filling her up. And then I nuzzle my face in her wet hair and just inhale her.
Breathe her in.
Get drunk on her scent.
Thank God for giving her back to me.
The summer night has cooled, so I pull my naked, pregnant wife closer. The light from our fading fire allows us to see each other just enough in the dark tent. Blind Bear is curled up near the entrance of the tent already snoring.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur, stroking my finger through her now dry hair. “I’m sorry for everything. I was an asshole for leaving you.”
“Yes.”
I chuckle. “You’re not supposed to agree.”
She giggles and then freezes. My heart stammers in my chest, fearing she heard a bear or something. Her hand encircles my wrist and she pulls my hand to her naked stomach. I splay my palm over the firm flesh.
“Feel. Our wild one is awake.”
When something pushes against my hand, I let out a choked sound. “T-That’s our baby?”
She nods, her smile wide and her eyes filled with tears. “Every single day I told the baby about you. About how wonderful and strong you are. How it’ll grow up to be just like you.”
The baby moves again. I rub my thumb along her skin, completely transfixed over the fact I can feel my child. It’s surreal. I’m overcome with happiness.
A dark cloud of worry passes over me.
The what-ifs.
All those incest books I read.
I’ll die if our child suffers. Fucking die.
“This one is strong just like you,” she assures me, somehow sensing my fears. “The others weren’t like this one.”
Others?
“What?”
Her brows furrow together. “Before…with Papa and my brothers. There were times we also created something. I called them my beings.”
She got pregnant.
By her siblings and father.
“Four of them,” she says, her bottom lip wobbling. “No bigger than the palm of my hand.” A tear races down her cheek. “I named them Love, Mercy, Faith, and Goodness. They were mine even if they never took a breath. So weak and tiny.” Her body trembles and I pull her close so I can keep her tight in my arms.
“You miscarried?”
“I don’t know that term.”
“The babies died while in your womb?”
“Y-Yes. They weren’t babies. They never moved or breathed.” She starts to cry and I hate that this woman has suffered so much pain in her life.
“Eve, beautiful, they were your babies. It’s okay to say it. Just because they never lived doesn’t change that fact. You had four babies that you would have done everything in your power to protect had they survived. You’re going to be a great mother to our wild one.”
She sniffles. “My babies.” Another sob. “My babies.”
“Yes,” I croon. “They were yours. They’ll always be yours. And when our little one is born, you’ll get to see firsthand what a good mother you could have been to them.”
“I want to visit them,” she whispers. “They’re buried by where the shack was. Can we visit them? My babies?”
I find her lips and press kisses to her supple mouth. “Of course we can.”
Her palms cradle my cheeks and she stares at me as though I’m the most precious thing in the world. Love floods through me, hot, possessive, and wonderful.
“Love me always, Atticus.”
“Always.”
Our mouths meet for a frantic kiss as I roll onto my back, pulling her with me. It takes a few quick adjustments and then I’m deep inside her where I belong. She sits up and stares down at me. I take a moment to admire how fucking beautiful she is. Her dark hair hangs long over her perky breasts that have grown with her pregnancy. I admire her swollen stomach that continues to grow each day with my child—my strong little baby. She licks her pink, puffy lips, making my dick twitch inside her.
I slide my fingers to her cunt and find her needy clit beneath her dark curls. She whimpers at my touch, sliding up and down along my throbbing cock. Her body is incredibly responsive. It only takes a few moments until she’s exploding, my name a war cry on her lips. I grunt, my hips bucking up, as I find my own release. The desire to continue to fill her up until we’re old and gray consumes me. I drain my love into her because it’s all hers. Every last drop.
She slides off me and lies back down. I curl up behind her, my dripping cock nestled against the crack of her ass and my palm possessively stroking her stomach. We’re nearly drifted off to sleep when Blind Bear drops one of his lethal bombs. It only takes a second for the tent to fill with his rancid ass stank.
“Smelly dog, smelly dog, what are they feeding you?” Eve sings in her best Phoebe voice.
I chuckle and then try not to gag. “No more beef jerky, dude. I don’t care how sorry I feel for you. You kill us with that shit.”
BB’s tail swishes, knowing that we’re talking to him, which only serves to send the smell fanning our way. Eve squeals and pulls the blanket over our heads. I bury my face in her sweet-smelling hair.
This is perfection.
Her. Our stinky ass dog. Our baby.
Perfect.
We should have left right away, but we didn’t. We stayed for a month, simply enjoying each other and getting reacquainted. Eventually, we packed up our tiny camp and headed to her old shack.
Traveling with a pregnant woman has proven to be difficult. Though Eve is strong and resilient, she’s only human. And this pregnancy is taking its toll on her. Some days she just wants to sleep. Our stops along the way have been long ones. If I were traveling alone, it would have taken me a couple of weeks, not two months like it has when we decided to finally take our journey.
But we’re finally here.
Her old shack is nothing but a rock, crumbling fireplace. The wood that once held it up is gone. Everything is gone. She doesn’t seem upset about the home. Her interest is in the stones near the big tree. Fall is here and leaves cover the forest floor, an array of orange, brown, red, and yellow. She’s already brushed away the leaves around the stones and kneels beside them. Her fingers walk along the stones as she smiles.
“My babies,” she says. “All four of them.”
I squat beside her, brushing my knuckles over her cheek to make sure she doesn’t feel too cold. We’ve traveled long and far today. I’m sure she’s exhausted.
“These, wild one
, are your sisters,” I tell our unborn baby.
She laughs. “Girls? How do you know?”
“I just feel like with those names you gave them, they were girl names.” I kiss the top of her head. “You probably have another little girl inside you.”
She shakes her head. “I feel like this one is a boy.”
“Do you now? How come?”
“A hunch. Sometimes, I dream about him.”
“Him.” My heart squeezes. I hadn’t really had a preference until now. Now, like her, I feel like it’s a boy.
“While you set up camp, I’m going to look for the good sticks to make toys. I haven’t made any for Devon and Reed’s new baby yet,” Eve says, standing.
I rise and give her a soft kiss on her cheek. “Be careful and holler if you need me.”
She sets off and I start setting up camp. We’re close to Reed and Devon’s. Another half day of travel and we’ll be at Reed’s hunting cabin. Then, it’s not far of a hike to their cabin on the cliff. Almost home.
I’ve just gotten the tent up and a fire started when I hear it.
Screams.
Blind Bear is gone and I hope to God he scares off whatever the hell is making her bellow like that. Yanking my Glock from my pants, I run toward her screaming. I find her at the bottom of an incline, curled over in pain, BB at her side.
“Eve!”
“Atticu—ahhh!”
She screams as I charge down the small hill to her.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” My hands roam all over her, assessing for damage.
“I had an—ahhh!” She curls up, hot tears leaking from her lids. “A pain and I slipped. I’ve been having them all day—ahhhh!”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Is the baby coming?” I demand, my heart in my throat.
“I think so—ahhh!”
I scoop her body into my arms and rush up the incline with BB on my heels. She continues to scream, barely getting any words out as I carry her to the tent.
“G-Get my pants off, Attic—ahhhh!” She sobs. “I can feel him. He’s coming out!”
Frantic, I begin ripping off her boots and jeans. When I see blood on her thighs, I nearly pass out. Don’t fucking do that, asshole. I swallow down the fear of her dying from childbirth and rip off her panties.
She wrenches her thighs apart and screams.
It’s then I see.
A head trying to come out.
Holy shit.
Holy fucking shit.
“Eve, baby, he’s coming. Holy fuck, he’s coming!”
She screams again and then his head slides out of her stretched opening, revealing to me the first glimpse of my child. My heart is in my throat, but I can’t stop to marvel over this miraculous moment. She needs my help. I need to deliver our son. Another scream pierces the air and more of the baby starts to come out. But then, it slides back into her, just the head sticking out.
“My God, our wild one is gorgeous, baby. You gotta keep pushing so you can see him too.”
She lets loose another blood-curdling scream and bears down. Over and over she does this as I coach her to keep pushing. At one point, she looks so purple in the face and fucking exhausted that I think she’ll give up.
Eve never gives up.
She’s a fighter.
A survivor.
A mother who’ll do anything for her baby.
Screams pierce the air and she growls as she pushes our baby out. A boy. Just like she thought. He slides out of her body and into my waiting hands. I pull him against my chest. He’s quiet. Too quiet. With probably a little too much force, I swat his bottom.
This time, the screams come from our boy.
Angry wails that fill my soul up and make it fucking sing.
Mine.
Ours.
We’re a goddamn family.
Eve sobs, defeated and exhausted. I need to take care of her. She has a cord hanging out of her body and there’s blood everywhere. We weren’t prepared for this.
“Can you take your shirt off?” I ask as I kiss my son’s wet, bloody head.
She manages to pull it off her body, revealing her breasts. I gently lay him against her. Her shaking hands pull him to her and she starts to cry. Once I have him covered with her shirt, I try to figure out what to do next.
“You’re going to have to deliver the placenta,” I tell her. “Then I’ll get you cleaned up.”
She grunts and groans, and then the blob comes out. Using my big knife, I hack through the cord, careful not to jostle our baby or hurt him. I work quickly to get her cleaned up so I can warm them up.
“He’s so perfect,” she whispers, fatigue in her voice.
“I knew he would be.” Truth is, I worried every single day that there’d be something wrong with him. But there isn’t. He’s perfect and normal. Ours.
I cover them up with a blanket and then bring her a water bottle. Holding it up to her cracked lips, I help her drink it down. Once she’s satisfied, I screw on the lid and then peek at my son.
A full head of dark hair like Eve.
“He’s a big boy,” I say, pride in my tone.
“Like his father.”
“Are you a big boy like daddy?” I coo, stroking his sticky brown hair.
Eve’s eyes are tender and water as she regards me. “Daddy. You’re his daddy.”
I can’t help but grin. It feels fucking amazing to call him my son. “I am. Rest and see if you can get him to eat. I’ll get something to bathe him with.”
It sucks to have to leave them, but I do so I can warm water over the fire. While it heats, I bury the placenta away from camp so as not to attract any wild animals. Once I’ve cleaned up in the river, I rush back to my family. I bring the pot inside along with a rag, setting it beside me. In my backpack, I find a soft T-shirt I can swaddle our little one in once he’s clean.
“Did he eat?”
Eve nods. “I think so. He latched on. It hurt, so I’m guessing he found what he was after.”
“Can I wash him up?” I wet a cloth and then wring it out. It’s warm to the touch but not hot.
“Yes.”
I carefully take our tiny baby away from her. He easily fits in the crook of my arm. Quickly, I clean him off. His screams are loud as he protests at my actions. Once he’s no longer sticky with birth goo, I wrap him up in the shirt. He quickly settles, his eyes drooping. I scoot the pot closer to Eve. With my baby pressed against my chest in one arm, I use my other hand to clean his mother’s chest off. She’s falling fast asleep too. Before her eyes drift closed, I brush my thumb along her jaw.
“What do we name him?”
Her eyes open for a moment and then she smiles. “Wild.” She closes her eyes and falls asleep, leaving me with our wild one named Wild. It’s perfect considering where he was born.
“You hear that, little guy. Mommy said your name is Wild. You like that?”
He trembles in his sleep, his bottom lip pouting out. Jesus, he looks just like Eve when he does that. My heart is bursting with joy.
The night my son is born, I don’t sleep.
Not because he cries all night or I’m worried.
I don’t sleep because I stare at him. Stare and stare and stare, afraid to miss one second of seeing his perfect face.
One month later…
Snow dusts our face as we walk up the slippery steps. I keep one hand on Eve’s lower back so she doesn’t fall with Wild in her arms. After our son was born and Eve was able to walk, we made the trip to Reed’s hunting cabin. It was good to stay in an actual home and gain our bearings. But Eve wanted to leave eventually, so we set out on our path to their house. Now that we’re almost there, I’m giddy with excitement. I can’t wait to show off our son.
A dog barking greets us at the top of the stairs, followed by a burly man. Reed. He lowers his .45 when he sees that it’s us.
“Holy shit,” he cries out, rushing down the steps to aid us. “I thought I’d never see you guys aga
in.” He stops to admire Wild. “Brought home a baby too.”
“This is Wild,” Eve says to him.
I grin at Reed. “Wild, that’s your crazy uncle Reed.”
Reed’s grin is wide, revealing his bright white teeth. “Well, get your filthy asses into my house. You both look worn as hell and like you could use some bad bear stew.”
Blind Bear barks because that fucker will eat anything.
He and Buddy take off sprinting toward the house. We all follow after them.
“Devon had her baby too,” he tells us. “A little girl. Raegan.”
“A girl finally,” Eve says happily.
“Boy, I told you not to come out here,” Reed calls out to Rowdy peeking around the gate.
He rushes ahead to his son. Eve stops me and turns to look up at me. Her brown eyes are fierce and loving. I could drown in her intense gaze. My mouth meets hers and I kiss her gently.
“Honey, we’re home.”
She smiles. “Not quite.”
“You don’t want to stay here?”
“I want to visit. But then…” She sighs. “I want our son to be able to watch television and go to Muskies and see your family. I want to have hot showers and learn to read. I just want more for him than I had. Is that okay?”
I cradle her cheek and kiss her nose. “Eve, baby, we’ll give him the world. I’ll go wherever you want to go, because you’re my home. Your happiness is my happiness.” I give her a lopsided grin. “But can we both admit the real reason you want to go back to my house is so you can have more peanut butter?”
She laughs. “You caught me.”
“I’ll always catch you.”
* * *
* * *
Six months later…
“God, Eve,” Will groans, covering his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you doing that shit at the dinner table.”
I smirk. “My son has to eat. We’re eating. I don’t see the big deal.”