by Nikki Wild
“Of course, Mr. Dalton.”
“And Sarah?”
“Yes?”
“Call Alex. Tell him to get the helicopter ready. I’ll be ready to leave in half an hour.”
“Of course, Mr. Dalton. Anything else?”
“No, Sarah, thank you.” I hung up the phone and sat back in my seat, looking around my office.
“This can wait one more day,” I said to the empty room, Bruce’s face haunting me.
“Thanks, Alex,” I said. “I’ll drive back on my own.”
“My pleasure, Bear,” he said, patting my back. “I’m real sorry about Bruce, man.”
“Thanks, brother,” I said, as I clipped the safety cord to my harness. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Take care, Bear,” he said. I dropped down onto the ladder swinging below. I descended all the way, jumping the last few feet to the ground below. I unhooked myself and waved up to Alex as he pulled the ladder up and closed the door. Seconds later, the helicopter ducked to the side and turned around, disappearing around the bend of the valley.
I turned back to the cabin, my heart beating wildly.
It wasn’t from jumping out of the hovering helicopter, it was being back here. I’d not been back since the morning I’d discovered Bruce’s body.
And before that, I’d not been here alone in two years. Bruce had been here every time.
The silence inside the cabin was deafening.
I walked around, my footsteps echoing through the empty house. I took a deep breath and walked out the front door and down the trail that led to Bruce’s cabin, remembering the last time I’d done this.
He’d still been alive in my head then.
I’d been coming to tell him that I was going to be a father. I’d arrived with joy in my heart, everything had been so fucking perfect and right in that moment.
I stopped when I reached the cabin, looking around, hoping that my fresh eyes would notice something—anything—to make sense of all of this.
But everything was normal. Bruce’s truck was still parked out front. His little kayak was still sitting next to the house, his muddy hiking boots on the porch by the front door, waiting for him to slide his huge feet into and tromp through the woods like Bigfoot.
I stepped up onto the porch and sat in the swing that was hanging on the side.
My eyes swept over the view, the creek flowing in the distance, the swaying trees still covered in snow. It wouldn’t melt up here until at least March, maybe April. The snow had been Bruce’s favorite thing about living up here. He’d sit out on this porch for hours, wrapped in a blanket, a beer in his hands, just thinking.
I sighed, feeling as if he was right here next to me.
I stood up and walked inside, closing the door behind me, the silence of the cabin washing over me like a wave, taking my breath away. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been in here without him…except for that morning.
But even then, he was here.
I stood still, listening, feeling.
Maybe he was here now, too.
I’d sent in a cleaning crew after they’d removed his body. I couldn’t do it myself. But I’d told them only to clean, not to remove any of his things. They’d replaced the bed and linens, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, but that was it.
I looked around now spotting signs of Bruce everywhere.
His ski goggles were discarded on the kitchen counter next to his car keys. His coat hung by the front door, next to his skis that were propped against the wall. A pair of slippers were next to the wood stove and I stared at it, contemplating whether I should light a fire. It was freezing in here.
I couldn’t stay long, though.
I needed to get back in time for dinner and the drive back would take a while. I eyed the bedroom warily, walking towards it slowly, my heart heavy, the memories flashing back.
I’d never be able to erase the images from my mind of that day, I knew that. Even now, as I gazed upon the freshly made bed, the rest of the room tidy and neat, I knew I’d never walk into this room again and not see him lying there.
I crossed the room, walking into the closet and stopping in my tracks. It smelled like him, the sudden scent startling me. I shook my head and gingerly looked through his clothes that were hanging there, smiling when I remembered how joyous he was when he was able to get rid of all of his suits.
I sighed, walking out of the closet.
I had no idea what I was looking for. I’d come here thinking that if I just showed up, I’d find some answers, but there was nothing here.
Maybe the cops were right. I still didn’t think so, but what was I missing?
“Give me a sign, man,” I whispered to the empty room, as I looked down at the bed, the ghost of his body lying there in my head. Tears stung my eyes and I shut them tight, willing it away.
I walked over to his dresser and rifled through the drawers.
Underwear, t-shirts, socks…the man was no mystery.
I walked into the second bedroom that was set up as an office, a desk in one corner and a chaise with a knitted blanket slung over it in the other.
I walked behind the desk, picking up a picture he’d placed there.
It was the two of us, lost a few years ago on a trail somewhere with a waterfall behind us.
“That was a good day,” I said to the empty room, as I put it down and picked up another picture. It was an old black and white of his parents.
They’d died a long time ago in a car accident, when Bruce was just a kid. He was raised by his aunt, who died not long after he went to college. He’d been on his own for so long. No family, not many friends, except me. The few he’d made during his career seemed to have vanished from his life after he quit, at least as far as I knew.
He’d told me he wanted to disappear back then. From all of the people he had to deal with everyday. Corrupt prosecutors, unfair judges, and everyone else walking all over anyone necessary to get noticed. It was a cut-throat environment and nobody ever won, he used to say. I never questioned him wanting to be alone, it all made sense to me.
But now, I wondered if it was wrong to allow him to be up here all alone for so long. Had things really gotten so bad that he felt the need to end it?
It didn’t make sense, even now, standing here in his death house.
I looked around and all I saw was life.
I put down the picture and sat down behind the desk. I went to open the desk drawer but it was locked. I retrieved his keys from the kitchen counter and tried a few of them. The tiniest one worked.
The drawer was empty besides a few pens and pencils and paperclips.
“That’s weird,” I whispered. Why was it locked if nothing was there?
I shook my head, pushing the drawer closed. It caught on something, not fully closing. Bending down, I looked inside and saw that it was getting caught on something taped to the underside of the desk. I reached in, pulling it out and inspecting it.
It was a plastic ziplock bag with a label on it.
NYPD
Evidence
Case #62702892
Exhibit G3
“What the hell?” I said, opening it up and pulling out the unmarked disc inside. I looked in the bag, but there was nothing else there.
I sat there for a few minutes, staring down at it, wondering what this meant.
“Is this my sign?” I said to the room.
“Fuck,” I muttered, shoving the disc back in the bag. I put his keys in my pocket and stood up, staring at the disc on the desk. Quickly, I looked through the rest of the desk, but there was nothing else of interest.
Everything was in its place and there wasn’t anything to suggest that anyone else had been here. There were no answers.
But maybe this was a clue.
I grabbed the disc and locked up. I walked out to his truck and jumped in, starting it up and backing out of the driveway. It would be dark soon and I wanted to get back home to Chloe. As I pulled out of the d
riveway, I stopped and looked back at the cabin.
“I love you, man,” I whispered, putting the truck in drive and roaring away.
“Shit,” I muttered an hour later as I looked down at the gas gauge on Bruce’s Ford. It was almost empty.
I pulled into the nearest gas station and jumped out of the truck.
While the gas filled the tank, I stood by the door, my hands running over the side of the truck. Bruce loved this thing. It was an older seventies model with so many dings and dents that you couldn’t count them, but Bruce loved every inch of it.
I spotted a strap of leather sticking out from behind the seat and pushed the seat up. I pulled out a black, leather backpack and unzipped it.
A change of clothes, a pair of boots with a pair of heavy wool socks stuffed inside and a bottle of water. I pulled out the boots and laid them on the seat of the truck and looked in the bottom of pack. Lying covered by a blue t-shirt was a set of books. Bible-sized leather bound books, four of them.
I opened them up and recognized Bruce’s handwriting right away. They were dated back over ten years, right around the time I’d met him. I flipped to a random page and read aloud.
The defensive attorney thinks I’m a monster, but there’s no way I’m reducing the charges on a man like that…
I flipped again.
This case makes me want to drink until I pass out so hard that I can’t dream about it. The pictures of that dead woman. They’re so hard to look at…I have to win this for her.
I snapped the book shut.
“Shit,” I said, feeling guilty and triumphant at the same time. Part of me felt like I shouldn’t invade his privacy by reading these, but he was dead now, wasn’t he? Maybe I’d find some answers.
The gas pump stopped and I shoved the books back into the backpack and pushed them across the seat. Once I’d finished paying, I jumped back in the truck and drove the rest of the way home.
Chloe
“That was delicious, babe, thank you,” Bear said, smiling across the table at me. His eyes were sad, but tonight there was something else.
“I love cooking for you,” I said. “More than that, I love eating.”
He laughed softly, pulling me into his lap and kissing me.
His cock stirred and I wiggled my hips.
He moaned softly and shook his head.
“I’m sorry, love,” he said. “My heads just not in the game tonight.”
“I understand,” I said, kissing him gently. He’d told me he’d bailed out of work and gone up to the cabin today. I knew he would do it soon. He’d been talking about going up there for weeks.
Now that he had, I knew why I didn’t want him to. From the haunted look in his eyes, it was as if he’d taken two steps back in the grieving process.
“You know, Bear, I was thinking,” I said. “Maybe we should postpone the wedding. Until you’re feeling better. Maybe we need more time.”
“No!” he insisted, shaking his head firmly. “This weekend!”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” he insisted. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I promise not to be so macabre on our wedding day, Beauty.”
“It’s not that…well, maybe a little, but you feel whatever you need to feel. I just wish there was something I could do.”
“You’re doing it,” he said, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Just by being you. By being here. By marrying me.”
“If you say so…”
“I do.” He kissed me again before staring deeply into my eyes. “Marry me, Chloe. That will make me the happiest man alive.”
“All right, my love,” I whispered, tears filling my eyes. “This weekend. Here. In this penthouse. I will marry you, in front of my Mom and Marie and Max.”
“I can’t wait,” he said, his sad eyes betraying the smile he was forcing. It was all so bittersweet, and there was nothing I could do to lift his mood.
“It’s going to be very simple,” I said.
“I just want you to be happy,” he said.
“That’s funny, because that’s what I want for you.”
“Well, then,” he replied, “sounds like we’re a match made in heaven.”
I kissed him lightly through my smile and stood up, gathering the dishes and heading to the kitchen to clean up.
“Are you sure you don’t want help with that?” he asked.
“Nope,” I said. “You can go to your study if you want. I’ll bring you a whiskey.”
“You’re the best, Beauty,” he winked. “I love you forever.”
“I’ll love you longer,” I said, tossing him a smile over my shoulder.
Ten minutes later, I brought him a goblet full of sparkling amber whiskey that probably cost a thousand dollars, but I didn’t know any better. It all smelled and tasted exactly the same to me, just like wine did. I guess I just didn’t have a taste for expensive stuff.
Either way, the smell of it made me gag, and I held it far away from my very pregnant nose.
“Thanks, babe,” Bear said, as I sat it on the table next to him. He’d turned off the lights and started a fire, and he sat by the easy chair next to the hearth, completely engrossed in a book.
“Sure,” I said. “What are you reading?”
“I ran across some old journals of Bruce’s,” he said. “Thought I’d skim through them.”
“Okay,” I replied gently, my heart aching for him. “I’m going to work on my dress. Let me know if you need anything.”
He didn’t look up, he just nodded and I padded out, quietly closing the door behind me and leaving him alone with this thoughts.
Time, time, time, I reminded myself as I made my way to my new studio. He’d converted one of the back bedrooms into a studio for me and I was putting the finishing touches on my wedding dress.
I didn’t have much time, so I opted for a simple slip style, made from fine white silk. The top was fitted, with spaghetti straps and a low v-cut in the front. The skirt stretched all the way to the floor, flaring out at the bottom to give it a little flow. I’d left it backless, with just a few pearl buttons starting at the swell of my hips and trailing up to the small of my back.
It was classic and elegant and I couldn’t wait to wear it.
I had a few more hours work left to put in and I figured tonight was as good as any. The faster I got this done, the faster I could get to other things.
My lists were long and plenty but I was crossing things off left and right, making decision after decision, emboldened by my new-found strength and motivation. I’d never been so productive in my life.
Of course, I had a baby cooking in me the whole time, and that just empowered me more—as if, I could accomplish all these tasks and still keep growing my daughter, then there wasn’t anything I couldn’t do.
It was a good feeling that I allowed myself to wrap myself up in, in the midst of all this anguish that filled these silent rooms.
Time, time, time, I reminded myself for the hundredth time today. Things will get back to normal in time.
Whatever normal is…
I looked up as my door opened just as I sat down at my sewing machine.
Bear’s hungry eyes met my gaze and I smiled…knowing exactly what he wanted and so happy I could give it to him.
Bear
I watched Chloe walk away and put the journal down. I sipped the whiskey, my eyes glued to her swaying hips. She was only a few months pregnant, but I already noticed a slight change in her body. Her hips were more voluptuous and her breasts had swollen slightly. Her nipples were ten times more sensitive, which made pinching them even that more fun.
Dammit, I thought, downing my whiskey and abandoning the journals for now. I’d come back to them later. After I’d tended to the fire that merely watching Chloe walk away had ignited inside of me. My cock was hard as a rock and I shifted in my jeans as I walked down the hallway, my cock already buried inside of her in my mind.
The look on her face when I op
ened the door told me everything I needed to know. She came to me with open arms, her lips warm and inviting, her body pressed silently up to mine.
We didn’t need words.
She knew. I knew. We both needed the same thing.
We walked arm in arm down the hallway to the dark room, the door closing behind us. I made a mental note to get a lock for that door soon. If we were going to have a toddler running around, the last thing I wanted to do was scar her for life. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.
As Chloe turned to face me, I ran my fingers over her beautiful face, trying to imagine which of her features our child might inherit. Hopefully, all of them.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I said.
Her smile lit up my heart and made my cock throb even harder. She reached down, gripping my cock and squeezing gently, lifting her chin as she met my gaze.
“Tell me what you want, Bear. Tell me what I can do for you, tell me what you want to do to me…I want to please you,” she whispered, her eyes glistening.
She was so sweet it almost broke my heart. I know she hates seeing me in pain. I know it’s hard on her. I know all of these things and I’m doing my best to shake them. And I will. I’ll figure it all out, I’ll work through it, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, and then I’ll be the man she knows.
I hated that I’d been taken down by grief. I felt soft and vulnerable, in a way, and I hated that fucking feeling more than anything.
I growled, my anger at the unending grief growing inside of me.
“Tell me what to do, baby…”
Chloe’s eyes were a blank slate of submission. I’d never been more thankful for her.
“I just want to forget,” I said, sitting down. “Just for a few minutes…”
“I think I can help you with that,” she said. She stood in front of me, her movements sure and confident as she pulled her shirt over her head and unzipped her jeans. She pushed them over the new curves of her hips, shimmying out of them and pushing them to the side. Naked and bare, I drank in her smooth skin, reaching out for her. I ran my hands over her hips and up to her stomach, my fingers flaring out over her belly. I leaned forward, closing my eyes and pressing my lips into the soft velvety skin there. She held me close, stroking my hair before pulling away.