by Amy Star
“Oh, no freaking way am I skinny-dipping with you.” She giggled. “I’ll wait until you’re done.”
“Suit yourself.” He let out a long, satisfied sigh. “My shampoo has tea tree in it.”
“All right, fine.” She huffed, glancing around. “But only because I can’t stand being smelly anymore.”
“Yes!” Conner pumped his fist. “Gender equality.”
“Try that play on a freshman, and you might get somewhere.” She twirled her finger in the air. “Turn around, and no peeking while I get in.”
He turned around, covering his eyes with one hand. Jillian unhooked her bra and slipped her panties down around her ankles, picking them up and placing them on the ground next to the rock where their fresh garments were stacked.
“Are you in yet?” He took his hand off his eyes but didn’t turn around.
“Don’t you dare.” She covered her breasts as she waded into the water up to her waist. “Jesus Christ, this is freezing!”
“It’s warmer on the other side where the sun has been on the shallows all morning.” He started to turn, and she scolded him again, huffing and panting until she was able to get all the way in.
“All right, this is okay.” She tiptoed to the deeper part and started swimming. “I can handle this. Where’s that shampoo you promised?”
“You have to promise not to tell the guys where I keep it.” He leveled his eyes at her.
“Okay.” She laughed.
“I’m serious.” He frowned. “I don’t get to go into town very often, and there’s only one salon that carries it.”
“Fine.” She blew bubbles as her mouth went under the surface. “Scouts honor.”
“You were not a scout.” He smirked.
“How would you know?” She gaped with mock indignance.
“A scout wouldn’t have hyperventilated over the water being a little chilly.” His cocky little grin was driving her out of her mind.
She patted her hand toward him, sending a spatter of water across the left half of his face.
“Are we going to play like that?” He swam toward her with an impish smile spreading across his lips. “I can splash if you like splashing.”
“Hey.” She giggled, swimming backward. “You promised me shampoo if I got in here, and so far, all you’ve done is make fun of me.”
“All right.” He grumbled, backstroking toward a hollow log next to a little alcove. Reaching inside, he pulled out a white plastic bottle with a green lid and tossed it to her. She missed the catch, but it was half empty, so it floated.
Picking it up, she flipped the cap open and smelled the contents.
“Thank you.” She moaned. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Jillian paddled over to the shallows on the opposite side of the creek. Warm water swirled around her limbs, and she sighed with relief as her feet touched the bottom. Squirting a quarter-sized blob into her palm, she lathered it up and massaged it through her hair. The aromatic smell of the soap mingled with the pine trees, and her scalp tingled as the tea-tree delighted her skin. The cool breeze carried birdsongs that made her smile in the warm sunshine, and the water didn’t seem so cold anymore.
Dipping her head under the water, she rinsed off the lather and came up, taking a big breath, grateful for every single sensation that she would have taken for granted a few days ago. Wiping the water from her eyes, she picked up the bottle and swam it back to Conner, who was brushing his teeth with a stick.
“That’s a handy trick.” She handed him his shampoo, and he returned it to its hiding place.
“I can make you one too.” Biting down on his wooden toothbrush, Conner reached over onto the bank and pulled a twig from a branch. Picking up a flat rock, he rubbed the tip of the stick back and forth against the hard surface, fraying the wood to make bristles. He held it out.
“Thank you.” She found it odd how comfortable she felt with her naked body so close to his.
“So, can I ask you a personal question?” His expression took on a seriousness that was uncharacteristic from what she’d gathered so far.
“Sure.” She swam back into the sun.
“That guy you were with when I first saw you…” He swam forward to follow her. “He was your boyfriend?”
“Yeah.” She looked away. “We’d been seeing each other for like six months. Our fathers are friends.”
“Is that why you were with him?” Conner pinched his nose and dunked his head before coming back up and shaking the water out of his hair. “Because your dad liked the idea?”
“No.” Jillian shrugged. “I mean… that wasn’t the only reason. We grew up together. I thought he understood me better than most guys because he’d been around my parents. You know what, I’d rather not talk about it; saying it out loud just makes me realize how stupid I was.”
“No,” Conner shook his head, “you don’t sound stupid… Please, tell me.”
“Well,” Jillian searched his eyes for judgment and found none, “Ted knew about my mom’s pill and alcohol problems. My father had made some crooked business arrangements with Ted’s dad. There were a lot of things that we just weren’t able to discuss with anyone else. Even talking to a therapist was dangerous. If anyone decided to leak something to the press…”
“So, you trusted him.” Conner’s eyes stayed with hers. “He was the one person you thought you could talk to, and he hurt you.”
“Oh,” she looked away, “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”
In fact, in the last two days, since everything had happened, this was the first moment that she had stopped to process the emotional impact of what Ted had done to her. Her father had slapped her mother when things got heated between them in the past. But no one had ever been physically violent towards Jillian before.
“I’m sorry that happened to you.” There was something about his eyes that made her feel more naked than she already was. It was like he could see all of her secrets and insecurities.
“Now that you mention it, there is one other person I trusted.” Jillian smiled, changing the subject. “My friend Elaina, she would have loved to be in the middle of all this.”
“What do you mean?” Conner swam closer.
“She’s always been the adventurous one. She’s been to Machu Pichu, seen the Pyramids of Giza. She believes in the possibility of bigfoot and vampires and aliens. Or, as she says, she wants to believe.”
“Sounds like a cool girl.” Conner smiled, closing the space between them again.
“Yeah.” Jillian nodded as her heart skipped a beat. “You’d like her.”
“I like you.” His face was only inches from hers, and Jillian found herself wanting to kiss him more than she’d ever wanted to kiss anyone in her life. “You’re shivering. Are you nervous?”
“Just cold,” she lied.
“Hey, guys!” Vincent shouted from the bank, making Jillian jump. She folded her arms over her chest, turning away from Conner. “Finn’s back, we’re going to start cooking here pretty soon.”
“Be right there,” Conner yelled back before lowering his voice. “I am such a jerk; I forgot to feed you.”
“I’m not a stray puppy.” Jillian stood up a little straighter, still too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “If I had been that hungry, I would have dug through your kitchen.”
Vincent must think I’m such a whore, flirting with him this morning and then going for a naked swim with Conner. What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe one of those bumps on the head did permanent damage.
Conner was kind enough to keep his back turned while Jillian dried off and got dressed. The clothes were the same jeans, tee, and hoodie from when Vincent had found her in the woods the first night. They smelled clean, but the fabric was stiffer than she remembered since they didn’t use fabric softener.
On the way back, Conner made a point of walking next to her.
“So, why do you talk about your adventurous friend when you get nervous?” He reached out for the w
added-up sheet Jillian had been carrying.
“I don’t know.” She shrugged, handing it to him. “Guys are usually more interested in her, and she’s… a little more willing to take risks than I am. Whenever we were out together and I’d get nervous around a guy, I could easily direct his attention to her, and guys would forget all about me.”
“I don’t buy it.” Conner tucked the sheet under his arm.
“What don’t you buy?” Jillian looked at Conner, walking casually on the ground with his bare feet. She had to take slow, precise steps to avoid rocks and twigs. “Are your feet made of leather or something?”
“Some hot girls don’t know that they’re beautiful, others like to pretend that they don’t know. You don’t seem like you fall in either of those categories.”
“Oh? So, what category do I fall under.” She clasped her hands together and batted her eyes. “I’m dying to know.”
“I think you know you’re beautiful. And you know that you can have pretty much any guy you want.”
“That seems a little…” She started to protest, but he cut her off.
“But, you’re afraid of what you want because of your parents.”
“My parents?” She laughed.
“They expected you to behave a certain way because politics is all about what the public thinks of you.” He moved in front of her and walked backward. “Your parents compressed you into this boring little mold that your soul is way too big for, but you stayed there because… well, I’m not sure yet.”
“Sounds like you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” She stopped walking.
“Definitely not.” He smiled. “You’re way too interesting to figure out in two days, but it won’t stop me from trying.”
The rest of the walk, he was kind enough to stop talking, but she kept mulling over what he said. Was it true? She’d never been the kind of girl to have a one-night stand while she was on vacation. She’d only slept with four guys in her entire life, and she’d been in relationships with all of them. But she hadn’t been committed to those standards because of her parents. Sex with strangers was scary, not to mention gross.
When they reached the cabin, Finn had something long and tubular kebabbed on a spit over the firepit outside.
“What is that?” Jillian grimaced as she leaned in.
“It’s an old friend of yours.” Vincent sprinkled some seasonings on it. “Doesn’t it look familiar?”
Jillian’s stomach growled at the smell, but she couldn’t for the life of her identify the kind of meat it was.
“Rattlesnake,” Conner whispered.
Jillian waved at Finn, who nodded to her before getting up and heading around the side of the cabin.
“Where are you going?” Vincent called after him, shrugging when he didn’t answer.
“I swear he’s mad at me.” Jillian sat down on a stump by the fire, resting her chin on the heels of her hands.
“I told you,” Vincent turned the spit, “he knows you’re not staying. He’s trying not to get attached.”
“Well, he doesn’t have to give me the silent treatment.” Jillian wasn’t sure why it bothered her so much.
She was practically a social media celebrity. Sure, most of her followers praised her, but there were plenty of trolls that did their best to tear her down. Hateful comments from total strangers were one thing. Finn being temperamental because she wasn’t moving in was just ridiculous. More than ridiculous, it was childish. They barely knew each other, and she knew that the mature thing to do was to let it go.
Jillian spent several minutes seething over the situation before she realized that wasn’t going to happen. Getting up from her toasty perch, she headed off to see what Finn was doing. Maybe they could air out whatever was bothering him.
As she rounded the corner, she looked around, following a little beaten path to a wooden shed. The door creaked as she pushed against it, and she peeked inside. The color instantly drained from her face. It wasn’t just the sight of all the blood; it was the smell.
CHAPTER FIVE
Four tiny headless bodies hung from their hind-legs over a five-gallon bucket filled with a dark-red liquid. Finn made a few quick cuts before pulling the tan, furry skins downward. Jillian’s eyes rolled back, and the blue sky came into view as she hit the ground with a thud.
“Holy shit.” Finn turned around, rushing to her side. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Jillian blinked, rubbing the back of her head. “I didn’t faint. I just got a bit dizzy and lost my balance.”
“Are you a vegan or something?” He grimaced.
“No.” She chuckled. “I mean, I wasn’t, but maybe I should be. Raw meat has always kind of grossed me out, but I don’t spend much time in the kitchen.”
“Shocking.” Finn wiped the blood from his hand onto his pants, reaching out to help her up. She hesitated but accepted. “I guess you’ll be our potato-peeler.”
“Your potato-what?” She sat up.
“Everything all right? Vincent peeked around the bushes from halfway down the path.
Did he hear that from the other side of the house?
“I’m fine.” She waved. “Just got a little woozy.”
Vincent shook his head and turned around to head back to the firepit.
“You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?” Finn walked over to the hand well next to the path.
“Well, yeah.” She crossed her arms. “Do you not want me to?”
“I didn’t say that.” Pumping the handle a few times, he looked over his shoulder at her. The color had returned to her face, but she teetered back and forth, taking deep breaths. Water poured from the spout, and he picked up a bar of soap, washing his hands before passing it to Jillian.
“You’ve been quiet today.” She accepted the soap, lathering her hands as he pumped the handle for her. “I mean, I can tell you’re not a super talkative person, but it seems like every word out of my mouth pisses you off.”
“Conner and Vincent will keep you entertained.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “People aren’t my thing.”
“What did I do to make you so mad at me?” She set down the soap, rinsing the last of the bubbles onto the ground.
“Typical rich girl. My asking you to pitch in automatically means that I’m mad at you.” He rolled his eyes.
“I don’t mind pitching in.” She shook the cold water off her hands. “I don’t know how to cook, but that’s no reason to snap at me.”
“It doesn’t take a five-star chef to cut potatoes.” He nodded toward the house, and she followed him. Once inside, he lifted the trap door and climbed down into the dark cellar.
“So, does that mean you’re not mad at me?” Jillian crouched beside the open hatch, peering inside.
Finn returned with a metal bucket filled with lumpy brown potatoes covered with dirt. He handed it to her before coming out, holding a second bucket, this one empty except for a paring knife that clinked around as the bucket swayed. She eventually accepted that he’d brushed off her question and didn’t plan on answering.
When they got back to the firepit, Conner and Vincent looked up from what they were doing.
“Potatoes or rice tonight?” Conner smiled as he set a big pot of water on the grate.
“You’re so observant.” Finn nodded to Jillian, who was still carrying the bucket of potatoes.
“You’re not making her cook.” Conner reached for the bucket handle, but Jillian pulled it back.
“No one can make me do anything.” She cleared her throat. “I want to learn to peel potatoes. It can’t be that hard.”
She sat down on a stump-style bench.
“Put the peels in that.” Finn handed her the paring knife as he set the empty bucket down next to her.
Conner put his hands up and backed away as Vincent chuckled to himself, rotating the spit another quarter turn. Conner grabbed the percolator and poured himself a cup of coffee. Jillian awkwardly gripped a potato in one
hand and the knife in the other, scraping the edge of the blade sideways over the potato skin. After realizing it wasn’t an effective method, she angled the knife, turning the potato over a couple of different ways, trying to figure out the easiest way to go about it.
“Here.” Vincent picked up a potato and demonstrated with his knife. “Hold it like this, cutting away from your hand. Never cut toward yourself, especially while you’re getting the hang of it.”
“Like this?” Jillian tried to copy his form, but her cuts weren’t nearly as smooth as his.
“You’re a natural.” He smiled, returning to his work.
“You’re not kidding when you say you’ve never done this before.” Finn eyed the angular rhombus-shaped potato in her hands.
“There are a lot of things I’ve never done before.” She bit her lip as she focused.
Conner choked on his coffee, and she realized that what she said could have been taken a couple of different ways.
“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not a… I’ve been with a few guys. Obviously, not at one time.” She stammered as the three men stared, an uncomfortable hush settling over them.
“We’re not here to judge each other or you.” Vincent looked around at the three of them as he poked the snake with his knife to see if it was cooking evenly. “This isn’t a damn nunnery. Conner, let’s put some tomatoes on. This needs some color.”
“I guess I’m going to the greenhouse.” Conner set his coffee down and walked off. Their greenhouse was only about twenty by twelve feet. It was attached to the side of the cabin, even though the entrance was on the outside.
“You guys are pretty good at this outdoorsy stuff.” Jillian smiled at Finn. “Your carbon footprint must be pretty much non-existent. Did you grow up on a farm or something?
“Nope.” Finn poured a cup of coffee and offered it to Jillian.
“Oh.” She looked at the muddy concoction and wrinkled her chin. “You don’t have any non-fat French vanilla creamer, do you?”
Finn just stared at her.
“I’m kidding.” She smiled. “I’m good. Caffeine makes me jittery. So not a farm guy, got it. Is your family into hunting? My dad took me fishing once, but I cried when it came time to kill the fish.”