by B. B. Hamel
I can see that now. He’s not the kind of man to roll over and let others use him. It probably killed him every single day, letting it go on, and eventually he snapped. He had to stop it.
“The bomb they sent was meant for me,” he says, almost a whisper. “I don’t know why my guys didn’t bring the package up right away. I guess since it looked shady, they were checking it out. And I guess whoever sent it decided it was time to set it off.”
I gape at him, shocked. “That’s… that’s how those men died?”
He nods. “A bomb meant to kill me. It killed seven men instead, and I still hear them. I was there that day, in the building, in my office. I ran down and tried to help but… the place was a mess. Fucking wreckage everywhere.”
“How does nobody know?” I ask softly.
“Russians,” he says, spitting the word. “They covered it up. Bribed people like crazy. After that, I went away, drank myself stupid for nearly a year until I came up here.” He meets my gaze, his eyes full of anguish. “Now you see. This is my prison, Mia, because I’m a killer.”
“No,” I say. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“It was. I couldn’t get rid of them sooner, and because of my weakness, seven men are now dead. That’s my fault, Mia.”
I don’t know what to say. I don’t think he’s a killer, not at all, but this burden must be eating him up inside. I can’t imagine living with this, and yet here he is, still living.
I stand up and walk toward him. He lets me wrap my arms around him and hug him tight.
This is why he thinks he’s dangerous. He’s afraid that someone will get close to him and get hurt. He’s living out here, in self-imposed exile, trying to pick up the pieces of his broken life.
I hug him tighter. He’s so much stronger than I could have imagined. Any other person would have been driven insane from this, but not him. He’s still going, even if he is punishing himself.
It wasn’t his fault. What could he have done? He was trying to get away from these people, and they’re the ones that sent a bomb. They’re the ones that killed his workers, not him.
I don’t know how he kept this to himself. I don’t fully understand the story, or who these people are, but I know that it’s been killing him. I just hope that by saying some of it out loud, maybe the healing can begin.
18
Ethan
I pull back slightly to look at her face, and I feel an enormous weight lift off my chest.
Hiding that story’s been killing me for a very long time. It’s not even just keeping it from her, but from the whole world, keeping it locked up tight inside of me. It’s been eating at me, slowly tearing me apart, and now that it’s out… it’s an immediate relief.
But there’s still a fear inside of me, a worry. I search her face, looking for any hint of fear or disgust. I expect it to be there. I think I’d look at me with disgust. I made so many mistakes for so long, each one compounding the next. I tried to shake those bastards off time and time again, I paid them big sums of money, but it was never enough. They always wanted more, and they kept threatening to hurt the people around me if I didn’t give in to them.
I thought I was freeing myself by finally taking a stand. Instead, I got seven men killed. I know that bomb was intended for me because after the accident, they told me. They said that if I didn’t give in now, they’d send another bomb for me, and maybe this one would kill more of my employees, too.
That’s when I left. I wouldn’t let anyone else get hurt because of my mistakes.
And yet now Mia’s here. I knew this was a mistake. I’ve been hiding here for so long, without any issues at all, but as soon as I let someone into my world suddenly those bastards are back.
Because of course it’s them. I don’t know why they’re playing this game with us, breaking the generator, looking through the house, but I won’t sit idly by. The house has a state-of-the-art alarm system installed, the type that even they won’t be able to disable. We’ll be safe in here, at least until it’s time to make a run for it back to town.
Once there, I can drop Mia off and leave her. She’ll be safer without me. I’ll return here and face whatever I have to face, whether it’s my death or worse. But I won’t drag Mia down with me. I just can’t.
As I search her face, I find something I don’t expect. It’s not fear and it’s not pity. It’s more like… admiration.
“What?” I say to her. “Why aren’t you backing away from me?”
“You held onto this for so long,” she says. “You even ran out here, isolated yourself. You don’t really want to be alone, do you?”
“No,” I say softly. “But it’s better for everyone else.
She smiles slightly, and I don’t get it. Why would she smile?
“I wouldn’t have been able to do it,” she says. “I wouldn’t have lasted a week out here, totally isolated, with nothing but my past to keep me company. Especially not with a past like that.”
“It’s not bravery,” I say to her, eyes wide. “I’m not doing a good thing.”
“You made mistakes,” she says simply, touching my face. “You tried to right those mistakes. But what happened isn’t your fault.”
“Yes,” I say, barely a whisper.
“No,” she answers, and she kisses me.
I kiss her back, suddenly hungry for this. I need it so badly, a human’s touch that isn’t terrified of the things that I’ve done. I feel like a monster, locked away from the world, and she’s just finally starting to show me that maybe I haven’t been a monster all along.
I have more atoning to do, I know that. I have to fix the mistakes of my past, or at least I have to try. I can’t bring back the men that I lost, but I can at least try to pay some kind of price for their losses. Hiding out here alone, punishing myself like this, that worked for a while.
But I can see the cracks starting to form already, and it’s all because of her.
I kiss her tight, pulling her close. Her arms wrap around me as I hug her tightly, needing this so badly that it almost hurts. I need her smell and the closeness she brings, the connection to something other than my pain.
The connection to pleasure.
I push her back, up against the wall. She gasps as I kiss her full, tongue in her mouth, tastes mingling. I slide my hand down the loose front of her jeans and find her pussy bare, waiting for me. I tease her just a little, getting her nice and wet before plunging my fingers deep inside.
She groans her pleasure. I think she knows how badly I need this, and I think she needs it too, but for different reasons. I know she’s hiding something herself, that she has some secret she’s been keeping from me, but I don’t care right now. There’s no way she just came all the way out to Mount Remmel just to interview me, and I could obsess all about that if I wanted, but I won’t.
She’s the good thing in my life right now. She’s the thing bringing me back from the brink. I didn’t realize how dangerously close I was to it until she came here, giving herself to me.
My other hand unzips the front of her jacket. I pull it off, letting it drop to the floor as I push up the hem of her shirt. She kisses me as I pull it off, her hair spilling down around her, until she’s wearing only the ski pants that are slightly too big.
I slide my hand down the front again, teasing her pussy, loving the way she moans into the kiss. I pull her hair back and kiss her back, her breasts, tasting every inch of her exposed, perfect skin. I need it all, need every inch, because I feel myself waking up to the world again, and it’s almost fucking painful with how good it feels.
I pull her from the wall, bending her over the island. I spread her legs as I tug down her pants. She looks over her shoulder at me, mouth open, eyes wide, as I tease her tight little cunt from behind.
I pull her hair tight. “You think I’m not a monster?” I ask her.
“You’re not,” she says, breathing heavy.
“I’ll show you. I can be a monster.”
I p
ress two fingers deep inside of her pussy, making her gasp. I smirk and start to fuck her with my fingers like that while I pull her hair back hard.
Her moans make me so fucking hard I can barely think. I know this is stupid, feeling her tight little pussy like this while outside someone wants to hurt us, but I don’t care. Right now, all I can think about is dipping my big cock into that wet cunt and fucking her until she screams.
I pull my clothes off while she watches me over her shoulder, panting from excitement. I can feel my cock ringing with need for her as I grab her hips and pull her against me again, kissing her back and pulling her hair off to the side. I grip it as I press my cock against her pussy and slowly slide inside her.
She gasps as I fill her and pleasure rings through my body. I feel like a new man as I start to fuck her faster, thrusting deep inside, taking her tight little pussy. I feel her breasts, taste her nipples, grab her hair, slap her ass, and taste every single inch of her body.
I pull myself back and thrust forward, ripping her in half. I lean forward to whisper in her ear, and she moans right back. “I can be a real bad man for you,” I say softly. “Make you do bad things. Make you think bad things. Is that what you want?”
“God, yes,” she moans. “If this is being bad, I want more of it.”
“That’s right,” I say. “My bad fucking girl.” I grip her hair again, pushing deeper.
She gasps as I turn her around and suddenly pick her up. I put her down on top of the counter, spreading her legs wide. She fits perfectly, and I’m just tall enough to press my cock back inside of her. I grab her hips, pulling her closer, as I kiss her softly on the lips, sliding in and out.
She moans into my mouth as I fill her up. She’s so fucking tight and slick, it’s like heaven fucking her tight little cunt. She groans as I tease her breasts with my mouth, biting her nipples, biting her lower lip, biting her collarbone. She groans, digging her nails into my back, and I fuck her harder.
I feel like an animal, and I can’t stop myself. I rock into her, slamming my fat cock deeper and deeper, making her gasp and moan. I love the way the sweat rolls down her skin. I lick it up, tasting her salty essence as I fuck her faster and deeper, making her sweat, making her moan.
“I need to hear you say the words.” I grab her chin, tipping her face toward me.
“What words?”
“You know what I want.”
She bites her lip. “You want me to call you Daddy.”
“That’s right. I’m your fucking Daddy. You came all the way out here for me, and now you’re going to have me, every single inch.”
She groans as I fill her to the brim, my big cock pushing up against her depths.
“You’re my Daddy,” she groans. “I need more, Daddy, please. If you stop, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
“Good girl.” I fuck her rough and deep, not holding anything back, my muscles tense as my hips rock and slam.
She gasps louder, gripping the countertop, and I can see that she’s close. I can see it in her face, etched all over her skin, on every inch of her. I can read her like a fucking book and it’s so clear to me what she needs and wants as I rock myself faster, grinding deep inside her, rubbing up against that tight little clit of hers.
She’s moaning, hips moving, wild with intense desire and emotion. And when she comes, it’s like lightning filling my vision, all pleasure and beauty and intensity, and I feel more alive than I’ve felt in a very, very long time. I was half dead before I came to this mountain, dying long before that, but now I feel alive again. With Mia, I feel reborn.
I come deep inside of her without any hesitation. Pleasure blooms through me, threading us together, making a bond that I didn’t know was even possible. It’s an intensity and a connection that surpasses anything else I’ve felt in my life. I’ve never, ever gotten close like this with any other woman, and I’m afraid to let go of her.
Slowly we finish. She hops down from the counter, smiling to herself. I pull her against me and I kiss her softly. She kisses me back, her smile getting bigger.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. I just like when you do that.”
“What, get you off?”
“No,” she says, grinning. “Kiss me after.”
I cock my head. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Sometimes you look like you’re hurting, but not right now.”
“That’s because I’m not.” I kiss her again, low and slow.
Finally, she breaks off the kiss. “Let me make you something to eat,” she says.
“I won’t argue with that.”
She bounds off upstairs, probably to get changed. I smile to myself and slowly put my clothes back on. I sit down at the counter and wait for her, unable to stop the smile from spreading even wider.
19
Mia
It’s time. I know it’s time. Even if I wanted to put this off longer, I know I can’t.
There’s something happening between the two of us. We’re growing tight together, building a connection. It feels good, and I feel myself falling… but I can’t think that yet. It’s way too soon. I can’t think that until he knows the truth about what’s inside of me, the truth about his baby.
I put on a flannel shirt he gave me and a pair of jeans before heading back downstairs. I wish for the hundredth time that I had my own clothes, but his old clothes still are working good enough. He’s sipping a whisky and he smiles even bigger when I come into the room, and that smile makes me think that I’ve never seen something so genuine in my entire life.
I make a simple meal. Pasta with some chicken breast he had in the freezer, some parmesan cheese, and some lemon pepper seasoning. I mix it all up and we dig in, eating quietly while Jones paces around the living room.
“Weather’s looking good,” he says to me.
I look up at him. “Oh, yeah?”
“There’s a thaw coming. I think tonight, actually.”
“Really?”
He nods. “I think we’ll be able to get you back into town soon. Maybe even tomorrow.”
I chew my lip and look away. This is the news that I’ve been waiting for, but… it doesn’t feel good. I haven’t done what I set out to do yet, and suddenly I feel like a liar.
He thinks he’s a monster, but I can relate. I’ve been keeping this from him, and I’m the one that feels like the bad person. I know I can’t really compare the two things, what he did is horrible, but at least that wasn’t within his control. I can tell him at any time. I’ve just been a coward.
I watch him eat for a bit. The sun’s starting to dip outside, just the beginning of evening. We’ll have to feed Jones soon and let him out, which makes me smile. I’m starting to think like I live here, and the thought actually doesn’t scare me.
I’ve been cut off from friends and family for just about six days now. I’ve barely communicated with them, just a few emails in the beginning, and a phone call to the office yesterday. Otherwise, there’s been nothing at all, and it actually feels liberating. I’m the kind of person that obsesses about her phone, but I haven’t even glanced at it since coming to his house. It’s turned off, upstairs in my bedroom. It’s useless out here anyway, so I don’t even bother.
And that’s surprisingly freeing. I always thought being cut off from the world would be scary, but it’s actually not. Maybe because I’ve had him to keep me company, to make me feel good.
I take a deep breath. He looks up at me, his head cocked. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I need to tell you something.”
He doesn’t look surprised. He slowly puts his fork down, wipes his mouth, and sips his whisky. “Okay,” he says. “What is it?”
“I didn’t come up here just to interview you,” I say slowly.
He grins a little. “I know that,” he says. “I mean, you’ve barely been interviewing me.”
I blush. I guess I’ve done a bad job at hiding my real motives. “The truth is, I’m here for pers
onal reasons.”
“You can tell me,” he says softly.
“I’m pregnant.” I pause as he digests this. “And the baby’s yours. I haven’t been with anyone else, not in the right timing.”
He stares at me, clearly surprised. “You’re… pregnant? With my baby?”
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, suddenly talking fast. “I should have told you right away, from the second I got here. I meant to, but then I got scared, and I was trapped here, and I just… I couldn’t say it, and I’m so sorry—”
He cuts me off by leaning forward, taking my chin, and kissing me.
It’s so unexpected, but suddenly I feel all of my tension wash away. This must be how he felt when he told me the truth about his past.
We slowly break off the kiss. “I don’t know what this means for us,” I say softly.
“It doesn’t matter,” he says. “I don’t care. You’re pregnant with my baby.”
His eyes are wide and intense and he looks more alive than I’ve ever seen him.
“You’re not angry?”
“Angry?” He laughs, shaking his head. “Not even a little bit.”
“You don’t owe me anything, you know. I didn’t do this on purpose.”
He grins at me. “I know you didn’t. It takes two people to get pregnant, remember?”
“I know, it’s just… I’m not some gold digger.”
“Mia,” he says softly. “I’m going to take care of you and our baby. No matter what happens. Do you understand?”
I bite my lip and have to look away from him. I feel so fucking relieved it’s incredible. I was so afraid that he’d throw me out or reject me or refuse to have anything to do with our baby. But this is his baby too, and he has a responsibility. I want him to be a part of the baby’s life.
And maybe he can be a part of my life, too, if he wants.