Mountain Lumberjack

by Sienna Chance

  “I’m sorry, Lilian,” I said to her. “I thought you’d want me gone.”

  “Bullshit,” she said. There was so much anger in her eyes it was almost frightening. I never thought Lilian would be capable of such a thing, but she looked almost ready to strangle me with her bare hands.

  “Lily—”

  “Just leave me alone while I’m here, okay?” she said, and then left my room.

  I heard her go into her own and then moments later she left the suite. I wondered what she was doing but I didn’t follow after her, instead doing my best to fall asleep. I’d lost control with Lilian and now I felt guiltier than ever about what I’d done. It had been shameful of me to use her in that way, and I hoped there was some way I could make her forgive me.

  Lilian didn’t come back for a long time after that. It was two or three hours before she returned, and though I was tempted to greet her when she came into the suite, I decided not to. It was easier to fall asleep once I knew she was back, and I slept deeply until the next morning, when I woke up to a pounding on the door. I got out of bed, rubbing my eyes as I made my way to the living room. I didn’t see Lilian as I opened the door.

  I was surprised to see Michael on the other side, staring up at me with a firm look on his face. It was obvious he had practiced it on the way up, and that he hadn’t expected to be so intimidated by my size. I saw him almost flinch as he looked me over, standing in the doorway, my arms crossed over my chest.

  “What do you want?” I asked him. I hated the man and wasn’t even going to pretend to be polite. If it wasn’t for Lily, I would have kicked him out of the place a long time ago, the first time I’d seen him put his hands on her.

  “I just wanted to say thank you for whatever you said to Lilian last night,” he said. “Whatever it was, it made her come crawling to my bed.”

  “What?” I asked him blankly, hardly able to register the words.

  “I heard she moved up here with you. You must have done something to make her want to come back to me,” he said. “I just wanted to tell you I’m grateful.”

  I gritted my teeth, my body tense. “She came over last night?”

  “Yes,” he said, grinning. He had the nerve to reach forward and clap me on the shoulder. I stared at him with anger until he winced and pulled his hand away from me.

  “I think you should go,” I said.

  He smirked at me and turned around, leaving me behind. I closed my eyes and tried to steady myself. Just thinking about Lilian being touched by him filled me with rage, but I knew I had no claim to her. It made me sick to think about, and I started my day in a black mood because of it. I got ready quickly, heading out of the apartment, and nearly ran into Lily when I opened the door. I felt a heat wash over me, and when I met her eye I saw her expression reflected mine.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked. I shot her a look of distaste, hating the look on her face, how beautiful she was even in her anger.

  “I’m just wondering how you could do it,” I asked her.

  “Do what?”

  “Last night. You went to Michael’s,” I said.

  “I did what?”

  “Michael came here this morning. He told me what you did last night when you left.”

  She snorted. “And you believed him? Are you an idiot?”

  “So what did you do when you left?” I asked. There was something in her eyes that told me not to believe her, though I couldn’t tell what it was. She glared at me.

  “You’re right,” she said. “Yeah. I went to fuck Michael. So what?”

  “Nothing,” I said to her. “It’s none of my business.”

  “You’re right, it’s not,” she said.

  Her face was so full of anger she seemed to be burning with it, and there was another heat on top of that. I wanted to kiss her, to take her to bed, to show her how she was supposed to be fucked, good and long and hard.

  “How was it?” I asked her.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I mean, did you enjoy yourself?”

  She blushed. “That’s none of your business, either.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “I was just curious. I think I know the answer.”

  “Oh?”

  “You wouldn’t be half this angry if you’d had a good fuck last night,” I said to her. “You should have just come to my room.”

  “You think you could do any better?” she asked. Her voice was slightly breathless as she spoke. She liked when I talked this way to her, said the words that made her hot.

  “I’m sure I could do better,” I said, taking her waist in my hands, tracing them over her hips and pulling them against mine. “I could fuck you so good, Lily. I know just what your pussy likes.”

  “No, you don’t,” she said.

  “Yes, I do, baby. I lost track of the number of times I made you come.”

  She took a deep breath, trembling against me, then pulled away. She left me without saying anything else and I looked after her, then took a deep breath and followed once I knew she was far enough ahead of me that we wouldn’t have to share the elevator.

  I went downstairs and started toward the worksite, not paying attention to the people I passed. The place was still filled with lawyers and they would be there for another three or four days. That was three or four days that I’d have to completely avoid Lily, otherwise, we’d just end up arguing with each other like we had that morning. I hated that we couldn’t get along as well as we had in the beginning—things had been so light and easy when we’d kissed on the ski-lift, simple and sweet.

  Nobody was at the worksite when I got there, and I put my things down, taking my coat off and starting the truck. I couldn’t load it by myself but I could move it closer—something that I didn’t necessarily trust my men to do themselves. My workers were good men, skilled, but I’d always been particular about the way I wanted things done and often found myself just doing it myself.

  I pulled close to the logs, driving carefully, letting the weight of the truck push itself. When I grew closer to the forest, I saw blood in the snow. Fat red drops led a trail from the clearing and into the trees. I stared at it, then climbed out of the truck, stepping onto the ground. I looked around me, peering through the trees and around the clearing, but saw no sign of anybody, not even footsteps in the snow. I started to follow the trail, trying to keep my heart from racing. I couldn’t help but be afraid out here in the forest—it was massive and silent, cold and unyielding. I walked through the trees, following the blood spatters until I saw where it was coming from. My eyes widened as I looked around to see several dead animals nailed to trees around the area. Six rabbits and squirrels, a fox, all of them half-mutilated but not eaten. I felt a sickness rise within me as I looked at them.

  “What the fuck!”

  I looked around again for any sign of people but there was nothing, nobody anywhere near me. I shook my head, taking a deep breath before I started to take the animals down one-by-one. I didn’t want them hanging there when the rest of the men showed up the next day. It would only further convince them that the ridiculous curse existed, though I knew that this had to be somebody playing a prank. It was a grisly prank, to be sure, but it wasn’t anything more than that—there was no curse on the retreat center, no ghosts lurking in the halls. I finished taking the animals down and walked a little further, burying them in a mound of snow to hide the bodies. Then I went back to the truck.

  I froze when I saw it, the fact that it was sunk low, the tires completely flat. I walked close to them to see they’d been slit—the knife I’d left on the truck sat in the snow next to the back tire. I gritted my teeth as I picked it up, walking around the truck to confirm that the other tires had been slashed as well. Next to the front tire, I saw a glove, blood on the palm. I picked it up, examining it to see that it was just a regular work glove. I shoved it into my pocket, sighing. Getting this truck out of the snow, up the mountain, and somewhere to be repaired was going to take days to d
eal with and would put us even further behind. I cursed, taking a deep breath before starting back to the retreat. My mood was foul and black. The animals combined with the truck combined with the argument with Lilian had all become a massive dark cloud over my head.

  I was almost at the retreat center when Martha came running up to me through the snow, her face pale and drawn. She was the manager of the spa part of the business and I almost never dealt with her directly.

  “What’s up?” I asked her, frowning.

  “There’s been an accident,” she said.

  “What is it?” I asked her after she didn’t say anything for a minute. She wrung her hands as she looked at my face, as if afraid to speak the words aloud. “Martha?” I said firmly.

  “Somebody—a man—he fell over the fourth-floor balcony.”

  “What?” I asked, staring at her, unable to comprehend the words.

  “His body landed behind the piano.”

  “What?” I asked her again, numb. “The piano?

  “You should just come,” she said. “We’ve already called the police.”

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll be right there.”

  I stood there as she left, completely dumbfounded. This had happened before at the retreat on several occasions—though never since I’d been here. That railing had long since been known as a hazard, but the National Historical Registry wouldn’t let us do any more than post signs warning people not to lean on the railings.

  I headed inside to see people milling about the lobby, their necks like rubber as they tried to catch glimpses of what I assumed was a broken body. I pushed through them, climbing up on the stage where the piano sat and looking past it where the body had fallen between the piano and the wall. I gaped at the body when I saw it, a man on his back.

  It was Michael.

  His eyes were open, limbs splayed out in sickening directions. I couldn’t stop staring at him. Martha came up to stand beside me but wouldn’t look at the body.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “He just fell. We heard him scream and then he hit the ground—he was flailing on the way down,” Martha breathed. “It was awful.”

  “Was there anybody else upstairs?”

  “There was a girl. Lilian? She came down shortly after. She’s really shaken up.”

  “Where is she?” I asked, my voice sharp.

  “She’s in the spa room, poor girl. I let her sit in there to wait for the police.”

  “I’m going to go talk to her,” I said to Martha. “Don’t let these people come too close.”

  “Okay,” Martha said, sounding reluctant to stay with the body by herself.

  I went into the spa room, knocking softly on the door before I went inside. Lilian was in there with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, shivering as if she were still cold.

  “Lily,” I said to her. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, her voice even and blank. “Michael’s dead.”

  “I know,” I said. “I heard you were upstairs at the time.”

  She stared up at me, her eyes searching mine. “I was,” she said.

  “Did you see him fall?” I asked her.

  She didn’t answer, but looked away from me. I put my finger to her chin, tilting her face to mine.

  “Did you see him fall, Lilian?” I asked her seriously.

  “Yes,” she said, and the look in her eyes was defiant. “I saw him fall.”

  I stared at her.

  “Lilian—” I said, but was cut off when the door to the spa room opened and two policemen walked in.

  “Hello,” I said to them.

  Lilian stared at them with wide eyes.

  “Hi,” said one of the cops, a short, squat man whose nametag said Johnson. “You the one who was upstairs with the victim?”

  “The victim?” Lilian and I said in unison.

  “He—he just fell,” Lilian said. “He fell over the railing.”

  “I’m told that you had an altercation with the deceased recently,” Johnson said. “Can you describe that for me?”

  “No,” said Lilian.

  “Excuse me?” asked the cop, a confused look on his face.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” said Lilian. “I was in my room when Michael fell. I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Ma’am—”

  “No,” said Lilian stubbornly.

  “Lilian,” I said to her. “You really need to—”

  “Am I under arrest?” Lilian asked, looking at both cops’ faces. “Because if not, I don’t have to answer your questions.”

  The man named Johnson stared at her. “What’s your name, miss?”

  “Lilian Jackson,” she said.

  “Ms. Jackson, we’re going to need you to stay at the retreat or in town until further notice,” he said.

  I saw Lilian swallow. “Why?” she asked.

  “Because we might have a few questions that you will have to answer at a certain point,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Okay,” Lilian said.

  They turned to me. “We’re going to need a statement from you,” Johnson said.

  I nodded, following them out of the room. I glanced at Lilian over my shoulder, who stared at me as she curled into a ball on the bed in the room, her eyes on me until I shut the door and turned back to the policeman.

  9

  Lilian

  My heart was pounding, and it hadn’t stopped since the moment Michael had fallen from the fourth floor. I remembered the look in his eyes as he had fallen, the fear there, and it made me tremble every time I thought about it. I tried not to think about it, about the way his body had crumpled in a heap on the floor of the lobby below. He’d landed behind the piano, his feet hitting the keys with a sickening note before his legs crumpled to the ground.

  I headed to the bathroom after I left the spa, reluctant to go upstairs to face Logan in the suite. I knew he would only ask more questions, questions I refused to answer. I wasn’t going to talk about it no matter how hard he tried to get me to open up. I knew I was going to have to stand my ground, too—Logan’s gaze had always been penetrating, and there was something about him that naturally made me want to open up, let him see every part of me. It was why it had been so easy to touch myself in front of him, to let him taste me although it was never something I’d enjoyed in the past.

  I was in the stall when I froze, hearing two women walk in. I didn’t want to run into anybody, didn’t want to see them, so I sat still, waiting for them to leave.

  “I heard she was having an affair with him,” one of the women said. “Which isn’t surprising. She looks like a slut to me.”

  “She looks like a stuck up bitch, honestly,” the other woman said.

  I looked through the crack in the stall door to see them standing in front of the mirror, reapplying their lipstick. The one on the right was pretty, with dark hair, but the other one had a squished face and an unfortunate pug nose. “I would never have thought she had it in her.”

  “Women like that are always about to kill someone,” the dark-haired woman said. “She’s probably super uptight and never gets laid. I bet he told her no and she snapped.”

  I swallowed hard, knowing they were talking about me.

  “Either way, I guess she’s moved on to a new man,” the woman with the pug face said. “I heard she’s shacking up with that hot construction worker.”

  “Oh, god,” said the woman on the right. “He’s a fucking god. I hope she doesn’t kill him, too.”

  “She probably will. There’s no way he would sleep with her. The bitch is probably cold as ice.”

  I gritted my teeth, then opened the stall door and joined them at the sink. I smiled sweetly at them, who had the grace to look ashamed that they’d been caught.

  “Hi,” I said to them. “How are you, ladies?”

  They both stared at me but didn’t answer. They packed up their bags and disappeared from the bathroom, shooting me
disgusted looks as I washed my hands. I swallowed the lump in my throat, studying myself in the mirror. Now that the rumors had spread about me having something to do with Michael’s death, the whole building thought that I was guilty. There wasn’t going to be a single person I could turn to, especially not after what had happened with Marilyn the last time I’d seen her in the hallway.

  I sighed and left the bathroom, not making eye contact with anybody as I made my way to the elevator. I hoped nobody joined me and was relieved when the door shut with me alone. I rode to the top floor and then went into the suite, praying that Logan wouldn’t be there. He was sitting in the living room, though, and as usual, my heart sped up when I saw him.

  “Hi,” he said, standing up when I walked in the door.

  “Hi,” I said to him, remembering our last conversation, how I’d told him again to stay away from me. For an instant, I regretted it—I craved the comfort of his arms, but I refused to go down that path again. I wanted to keep my distance from him. Just because my stay had been increased didn’t mean that this was going to become a lasting thing. I couldn’t be with someone who lived across the country from me, and I couldn’t be with someone who didn’t believe me when I told them I didn’t do something. It had infuriated me when he’d accused me of sleeping with Michael, and just thinking about it again brought my temper to the surface.

  “How are you?” he asked.

  “How do you think?” I snapped.

  He crossed his arms over his chest but his face was patient. Too patient. I didn’t want to see softness in his eyes, but anger, the same anger I’d seen before. For some reason, I wanted to provoke him—I was already feeling on edge and just seeing him was pushing me over.

  “I’m just asking, Lily.”

  “I told you not to call me that.”

  “Sorry,” he said sarcastically. “Lilian. I’m sorry for asking. I will refrain from doing so in the future.”