by TM Frazier
He’d found me.
I opened my eyes and standing over me was the large dark shadow of a man.
“No! Don’t!” I shouted, scrambling up the mattress. With nothing around to use as a weapon, I raised my forearms defensively over my face. “You might as well get it over with now. Beat me until your knuckles bleed. Kill me if you have to. But I’m not going back. Not now. Not ever!”
“Who do you think I am?” a deep voice questioned.
A voice that didn’t belong to my father.
Hesitantly I peered through my arms and as the last bit of sleepy haze cleared in my mind, it was Finn I saw standing at the foot of the bed. His arms were raised above his head, resting against the metal header that ran across the ceiling. He was leaning forward, eyeing me suspiciously. “And what did he do to you?” he asked, a vein throbbing in his temple. His jaw tight.
“Nobody, it was nothing. Just a bad dream.” I answered, not wanting to appear weak to the man who’d almost run me off the side of the road. And although I was grateful he wasn’t my father after all, he was still a stranger, leaning over my bed, in the middle of the night.
“Bullshit,” Finn growled. His nostrils flared.
“What? What are you doing here?” I asked, the fear from earlier spiking the adrenaline through my body once again. “What do you want from me?” I held the worn blanket over my chest to cover up my nightdress.
“What is it you think I want from you?” Finn asked. I could hold the blanket over me all I wanted. The way Finn was looking at me so intensely, so deeply, it was as if he could see through both the blanket and my clothes.
“I don’t know what you want from me. But I know you need to leave. Right now,” I said, using my strongest voice.
“I didn’t come here to fuck you if that’s what you’re thinking,” Finn said, emphasizing the word FUCK.
I gasped.
“What?” He chuckled and the sound vibrated throughout the small space. I felt it all the way into my chest. “You’ve never heard anyone say the word fuck before?”
“No, I’ve heard it before,” I responded.
I’d just never FELT the word before.
The fluorescent light overhead flipped on with a sputtering buzz and suddenly Finn was in full view, no longer a looming shadow.
He wasn’t wearing his baseball cap like he was earlier, revealing messy but straight dirty blond hair that kissed his jaw line. His nose was slightly crooked. His lips were the fullest I’d ever seen on a man. Dark blue circles created half-moons under each of his eyes which were not dark, or demon-red like I half expected them to be, but bright like I’d imagined the ocean would be in the Caribbean. Above his left eye was a scar that had healed and was slightly lighter in color than his tanned skin. It was jagged and ran from the top of his eyebrow into his hairline.
It figures that out of all the people I’d met throughout my entire life—men or women—this gruff angry man, was by far the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.
If losing my mother wasn’t enough proof that life wasn’t fair, Finn looking the way he did was all the proof I needed.
My heart raced. I wasn’t used to being in such close proximity to a man with so much skin exposed.
Finn’s massive body made my already tiny living space look even tinier, the top of his head brushed the ceiling. His shoulders were so wide there was only room for him in the small walkway.
“Who are you?” Finn asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Sawyer,” I answered with as much strength as I could muster. “I’m Sawyer.”
Finn chuckled again and some of the lines on his forehead disappeared. “Finn,” he offered.
“I know your name. Josh told me when she dropped me off.”
Finn stood there like he was waiting for me to say something. “Finn and Sawyer,” he prompted, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes. Finn and Sawyer,” I confirmed. Maybe he just had a thing for names.
“Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn?” he questioned. “Mark Twain?”
“Are those friends of yours?”
“You seriously don’t…” Finn paused and shook his head. His expression hardened. “Never mind. Just tell me, Sawyer, why are you really here?” His lip curled up at the end.
“I’m here because I have every right to be here. This is MY land,” I pointed to the deed on the small cutting board that served as a counter.
Finn picked up the deed and promptly set it back down. “Your land is about forty feet back into the marshlands.” He pointed behind my head. “Right now, you’re on my land and you need to move.”
“How am I supposed to do—”
He cut me off. “It doesn’t matter. You’ve got a week to move it or I’m setting this thing on fire.”
“Why?” Is all I could manage to ask.
“Because, for your sake, I’m warning you. You don’t want to be my neighbor.”
I stood from the mattress, expecting Finn to take a step back to allow me room, but he didn’t budge. I felt the heat of his breath as he stared hatred into my eyes like fire was about to spout from his nostrils. He smelled like cedar and whiskey.
“Well, you are my neighbor whether you like it or not because I’ll move my camper, but I’m not leaving MY land,” I challenged, folding my arms over my chest.
Finn’s gaze dipped down to where I knew he could see my nipples through the thin fabric of my long white cotton night dress. My skin heated.
“You’re awfully feisty for someone who dresses like a nun,” Finn said, looking at my mouth while he spoke.
I instinctively reached up to press my fingers to my lips. For a few moments, we just stood there, staring one another down.
Finn broke eye contact first and finally took a step back. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said, right before he turned and left.
The camper rocked as he stepped off the step and slammed the door behind him.
I raced over and clicked the flimsy lock as if the thin strip of plastic could prevent Finn from storming his way back in with little to no effort.
Bending at the waist with my hands on my knees I tried to calm my erratic heart and catch my breath.
I’d just gotten to Outskirts. I hadn’t even started figuring out why my mother wanted me to come here. There was no way I was going to let the likes of someone like Finn run me off.
Mother told me to steer clear of anyone who tried to make others feel as weak as they do.
Finn Hollis was one of those people.
I stood up straight and couldn’t help but to stand on my tiptoes and chance a glance out through the small window.
Finn was on his porch. He turned and scowled in my direction.
The land. The town. The people. Everything was new to me.
But angry men weren’t, and I refused to be intimidated.
Not by my own fears.
Not by the church.
Not by my father.
Not by anyone.
Not ANYMORE.
Chapter Eight
Finn
Of all the days, it had to be today.
I slammed the door of the cabin with all my might and went straight for the whiskey, tipping the bottle up and pouring it directly into my mouth until I’d swallowed enough to feel the tension in my shoulders lessen slightly.
I’d marched over to that camper still drunk thinking I could scare her away. But after one good look at Sawyer not only was I stone cold sober, I wasn’t sure which of us walked away more scared.
When she yelled out for whoever she thought I’d been to not hurt her and that she’d rather be killed than go back, every threat on my tongue died. My heart panged.
Which was impossible. I hadn’t had a heart in years.
The thought was almost as ridiculous as her long white nightdress. It was like something my grandmother would have worn.
Yet…I wanted to see what she was hiding underneath it.
I wanted to see more of her.
All of her.
That was the thought that sent my irritation into overdrive.
Today of all days…
Wavy and wild reddish-brown hair framed her heart shaped face. Her otherwise porcelain skin had a shit ton of freckles across it. And not just the delicate little ones lightly sprinkled over the bridge of a nose or the kind a girl has to point out for you to notice. No, hers were thick and concentrated mostly on the right side of her face, creating a half moon effect around her big brown eyes, which, under the fluorescent light in her camper, I noticed had gold flecks sprinkled in all the brown. It was as if her eyes had freckles of their own.
Sawyer was unusual looking. Certainly not a classic beauty, but maybe it was because she was so unusual that I found her to be stunning. The MOST stunning thing I’d ever laid eyes on. The more I stared at her, the more something inside me stirred.
Maybe it was just my curiosity wondering how far her freckles traveled into that night dress. But I knew that wasn’t it. What was stirring was something else entirely.
Something I hadn’t felt in years.
Something I needed to drown from my body before things got out of hand.
I took another long pull from the bottle “Who doesn’t know Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn?” I asked out loud. I chugged again until my throat burned and my thoughts of wild hair and freckles turned blurry.
I staggered to the window and glanced across the yard just in time to see the light inside her camper click off.
An overwhelming anger ripped through my body. A roar tore from my throat and I tossed the bottle across the room. It shattered on the far wall. Shards of glass and splatters of whiskey slid down to the floor and as I watched it I did the same until the side of my head connected with the hard wood floor.
Before it all went black, an image flashed through my mind.
Grandma-style night dress.
Freckles for days.
Wide-eyed innocence.
The kind that wore long night dresses and demanded to be corrupted.
I did the right thing by threatening her because Sawyer needed to go.
And not just for MY sake.
For hers.
Chapter Nine
Sawyer
My mom used to say that ‘everything looks better in the morning light.’ I was positive, as I looked out onto the murky ground surrounding my camper, that in this particular case, she was wrong.
Oh, so very, very wrong.
In the light of day, I wasn’t just on wet ground or a little mud or even NEXT to the swamp.
I was in the SWAMP.
The entire lot, which I couldn’t tell where it ended or began, was covered in brush and overgrowth. I was surprised at how well Josh had navigated the camper into the only tiny triangle of earth without at least an inch of water that covered most of the ground from the camper to the small dirt path leading up to the house across the way. Although, it was really more of a shack than an actual house. I couldn’t even detect a paint color unless faded, rotted wood siding could be considered a color.
The roof hung low over the drooping front porch like a disapproving eyebrow, dripping with a mixture of shaker style shingles, all different tones from light to dark like they’d been replaced over time, as needed.
Small concrete block pilings under the house looked as if they were keeping the house a few inches above the murk and mud swimming beneath.
It looked like a proper murder shack.
Since the camper didn’t have any water to hook up to, I cleaned off the best I could with a wash cloth and a gallon of water I’d purchased at a gas station so I could conserve the water in the small tank. I got dressed quickly and the second I closed the door of the trailer, I felt his presence before I even saw him. I turned around slowly and sure enough, there he was.
Finn.
Shirtless.
Finn’s muscles rippled as he carried what looked like vehicle parts from the back of the house down to the edge of the water behind it. His tanned skin glistened with sweat, beading up and trickling down the taut muscles of his expansive back.
My jaw literally dropped.
I’d always been taught that the body was a weakness. A human’s vulnerability, but I saw none of that with Finn. Back at home, I’d have been told to look away and pray for that person whose morals were obviously corrupt enough to wear such little clothing.
But I wasn’t at home.
Using that logic alone, I allowed myself to watch Finn for the next few moments as he pushed a metal boat off of a trench-style ramp that had been dug into the shore. Once he was far enough into the swampy waters he pulled a cord and a small motor zinged to life.
Finn paused like he could sense me staring. He slowly turned around. His blue eyes shimmered under the light of the morning and in no way matched the frown set on his face.
I tore my eyes from his and trudged through the wet mud hoping to stumble upon the main area of town.
I’d just leapt over a particularly mean looking puddle when Josh rolled up beside me in her monstrous police truck, towing Rusty behind her. “Where you heading, Sawyer?” she asked leaning out of her window.
“Town. I think.”
“Any particular place in mind?”
“I was going to see about getting a job and some supplies.” I lifted up my skirt to my ankle to show her my muddied white tennis shoes. “And maybe invest in some better footwear.”
“People we don’t got a lot of,” Josh said. “Mud on the other hand?” Josh pushed open the passenger door from the inside. “Mud we got plenty of. Come on up. I’ll give you a lift.”
I climbed up in the cab and after Josh maneuvered Rusty next to Blue, setting her free, she hopped back in and together we started toward town.
Josh turned to me and looked me over. “Aren’t you hot in those clothes?” she asked, nodding to my long-sleeved button-down shirt and baggy khaki skirt that brushed my ankles and conservative nurse-style white sneakers. “I know it’s early, but it’s over ninety degrees already. You are gonna catch yourself a mean case of heat stroke if you stay outdoors too long wearing that. My sister Emily had a bad case of it when we were in high school. She had to be put in the hospital because she was puking blood like an overheated vampire.”
Was I hot? “Yes, I’m hot. Sweltering is more like it.”
“Can I ask you something?” Josh leaned her elbow against her window.
“Sure.”
“Is there any particular reason you’re covered head to toe in ninety-degree heat?”
“I come from a…” I searched for the right word. “Conservative family. This is how I was expected to dress.”
“You could be THE most conservative person on the planet but a few days in Outskirts will have an eighty-year-old pant suit wearing Republican wearing a string bikini in no time.”
I laughed. “I can see why.” I pulled at my high-necked shirt to allow some air through.
“This conservative family of yours. They around?” she asked, keeping her eyes on the road.
“No. Not anymore.”
“Then you might want to visit the thrift store in town. They’ve got some decent stuff and it doesn’t cost a week’s wages. You should check it out. Bebe is the owner. She’s always there. You’ll like her.”
“Thanks,” I said, thinking that new clothes sounded great, but getting a job, a way to earn money, was my first priority.
On the way into town every business we passed, no matter how scattered, were mostly closed with boarded up windows.
“Welcome to The Outskirts,” Josh said. “Home of the boarded-up building and abandoned…” we passed what looked like it used to be a car dealership with CLOSED spelled out on its small marquee by the street. “…everything.”
“What happened to this place?” I asked as we passed a housing development with a crumbling fancy brick gate announcing it as Heritage Acres, where there was nothing but long grass behind it and a half-built guard house. White piping stuck up from
the ground every fifty feet or so as far as the eye could see, surrounded by tall weeds.
“What DIDN’T happen to this place?” Josh scoffed. “Throw in a couple of brain eaters and we’d be the complete zombie apocalypse. Nothing but swamp land and unfulfilled dreams.” Josh sighed and looked out the window as if she was seeing the town with my eyes. “This big shot developer came through and promised that Outskirts was going to be the next Disneyworld. A lot of the townsfolk drank the Kool-Aid he was pouring. They used every dollar they had and even dollars they didn’t have to make improvements to their businesses to prepare for the rush of people they were told were coming to town. Parking lots were built, stores, and even hotels started going up everywhere. Residents even sold off big chunks of their farms and land and refinanced their houses to afford the life they were promised was coming, along with all the tourists’ money they expected to fall down around them like rain.” Josh scoffed. “Aries, that was the name of the developer, started building housing developments where a single-family house was going to cost more than what you’d normally pay for an entire farm out here. But people bought into it and Aries did manage to build and finish the water park, but just as it was set to open he picked up and left. That was it. He left us with nothing but excuses about market conditions and a graveyard of half built projects and homes that weren’t worth half of the new amount of their mortgages. People lost their livelihoods. Some lost everything.”
“So what did they do?” I asked.
“A lot of people packed up and left to find work elsewhere or move in with relatives in other towns. But a lot of people stayed too. Small town determination is not something you want to fuck with. People here do not take kindly to being forced from their homes, so they stuck it out best they could and managed best they could. Most people are still here now. Shaken up, a hell of a lot more jaded, but…still here.” She talked with a sense of pride in her voice.
“What about you? How were you affected?” I asked, leaning closer to the air conditioning vent in the dashboard.
“Me?” Josh asked, waving her hand in the air. “I was fine. Rent hadn’t had the chance to change much and I didn’t sell my soul to Aries like some folks did. My parents,” she blew out a breath, “they’re another story. They remortgaged their house to expand and turn it into a bed and breakfast. Their house wasn’t worth a third of what they owed by the time all was said and done.”