by Karina Halle
And Rachel returned the favor. Told me she loved me. Said she loved me since forever and for forever.
So, no matter what happens with the truck, if I’m lucky enough to have it or not, that punch in the face was certainly worth taking.
“Listen,” Grandpa says, putting his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “You’re twenty-two years old. Shane is sixteen. He may be a bit of a wild card sometimes, but you’re the oldest and you need to take the high road here and set an example. Let Shane have the truck.”
“What?” Fox erupts, and when he looks at me I swear I’m dead to him. Then again, I always thought I was. “Why the fuck do you let him get away with everything!”
“He doesn’t get away with everything,” Grandpa says calmly. “I just think, maybe this time, it’s for the best. You’ll get your money for the truck, I’ll see to that. Your father will pay for it. And then Shane will work that off. The kid oughta be getting paid for his work anyway. I’ve told your father that many times.”
It sounds fair to me, but I know Fox hates it. And while I would sometimes do anything to get him to pay attention to me, including stealing his truck, I don’t want him to hate me any more than he does. I know he resents the fact I was born, that it was because of me that our mother killed herself.
And I know he’s right too. It’s a truth I can’t escape from.
“You think you can just float through life without any punishment for the things you’ve done,” Fox says, poking his finger hard into my chest. “Stay the fuck away from my stuff.”
Maverick steps forward, ready to push Fox off but Fox shrugs him away and storms out of the room.
I exhale, giving them both a sheepish look. “I’m sorry.”
Maverick shakes his head at me. “You need to be more careful with him. You know he’s a loose cannon. He could have killed you.”
I shrug. “He always wants to kill me.”
Grandpa sighs and puts his hand on my shoulder. “You need to keep your head on straight, boy. I know you love Rachel. We all do. But next time you need something, just ask. I know you and Fox have it rough sometimes, and I can only hope that gets better as you both get older, but one of you has to be the bigger person, and it’s always better if you both are. Try and play nice for the rest of the holiday, okay? It’s Christmas for crying out loud.”
And with that, the two of them leave my room, closing the door behind them. When they’re gone, I take out my phone and text Rachel.
Hey, baby. Bad news. Fox found out about the truck. I won’t be able to take it again. Good news is I might be able to save up and buy it off him. I’ll have to see what my father says.
She texts back: Shitty. How mad was he?
I text back: He punched me in the face and I had to tackle him. That mad.
She texts back: Oh no! Are you okay? I’m so sorry.
I’m smiling as I send: The punch was worth it.
So no movie tonight?
I had planned to try and get the truck again and take Rachel to the movies. I wanted it to be a real date. Then I wanted to give her her Christmas present early.
Then I wanted to tell her I loved her, over and over and over again.
Then I wanted to…well…I’m getting ahead of myself here. Still, I’ll be prepared.
I can have Mav drop me off at the theatre. Or maybe you could just come here and we can do the movie another night?
She waits a few seconds before responding. I’d love to but I won’t be able to get a ride.
This is probably for several reasons. Her mother is often drunk and can’t drive. Her father is usually on duty, and if he’s not…well…he wouldn’t do it. He doesn’t like me, doesn’t like Rachel seeing me. And even though she doesn’t talk about him much, she’s absolutely terrified of him. The less that they interact, the better.
I’ll have Mav come get you, I tell her. Be ready in an hour, okay?
K.
Poor Mav doesn’t even realize he’s volunteered for this and I know I have to tell him now before he starts tucking into his nightly beers. Thankfully, when I tell him, he just rolls his eyes and agrees. Maverick is girl crazy so he’s usually willing to help me out when it comes to Rachel. Says he understands though I don’t think Mav has even felt a fraction for anyone of what I feel for my raven girl.
It’s not long before Maverick’s beat-up truck is pulling up to the house, sliding in the snow until it comes to a stop. I can see Maverick laughing behind the steering wheel at his fancy driving skills. He’s such a show-off.
Rachel seems immune to his charms and is rolling her eyes as she steps out of the truck and into the snow. She glances at me in the window and smiles.
My chest glows with heat. That smile of hers has the ability to rewrite all my bad days.
She comes inside, and I immediately pull her toward me, kissing her. I don’t care if my grandfather is sitting on the couch watching or if Maverick is behind her, making slurping noises.
“I missed you,” I whisper to her as I pull away, still cupping her face in my hands.
She gives me a shy smile, obviously too embarrassed to say anything in front of my family. She waves hello at my grandpa, and I take her hand, leading her to my bedroom.
My dad is out at the bar with some friends and if he were home he certainly wouldn’t let me take her to my room, but grandpa has never cared.
“Where’s Fox?” she asks in a hush after I’ve closed my bedroom door behind her.
“Sulking somewhere,” I tell her. I slip my hands around the small of her waist and nestle my mouth into her neck. She tastes like vanilla.
She lets out a breathy sigh as I suck at her skin, relishing the feel of her, the need for her burning inside me. I’m hard in seconds and press myself against her hips, making sure she knows it.
“Shane,” she says softly, her hands sinking into my hair. “We can’t do this here.”
“Why not?” I murmur. “And do what?” I add as I glance at her, searching her eyes for any and all signs that she wants this.
“Anything,” she says, pulling my hair back slightly. My eyes close in bliss. I love it when she plays with my hair.
“But we’ve done it here before,” I tell her, leaning in to nip at her lower lip, taking it between my teeth. “Why stop now?”
“Not when your grandfather and Maverick are downstairs. You know how thin the walls are.”
Good point. And I know how loud she can be when my head is between her legs. And besides, I love her. I want more than just getting each other off. I want to sink deep inside her for the first time.
Somehow, I manage to pull myself away. For the second time today I’m breathless and my skin feels hot, but for completely different reasons. “Let’s go for a walk.” I turn around and open up my desk drawer, quickly taking a small jewelry box out of there and discreetly putting it in my jeans. I do the same with a couple of condoms.
“A walk? In this weather?”
I shut the desk drawer and turn around, grinning at her. “It’s not snowing. It’s brisk. We’ll go to the barn.”
“The barn?” She doesn’t look too impressed.
“I have a present for you,” I tell her.
“Is it a horse?”
“Just come for a walk with me.”
I take her hand and lead her downstairs, throwing on boots and jackets and scarves. Maverick has disappeared somewhere and Grandpa isn’t even paying us much attention. Matlock must be on TV.
We step outside into the crisp air. Her present is burning a hole in my pocket. It’s not an engagement ring, I know we’re too young for that, but it’s something along those lines, and once I saw it I knew I had to have it.
The sky is clear, a dark velvet universe that stretches above our heads from snowy peak to snowy peak. Everything glows under the light of the near full moon; we don’t even need flashlights.
“It’s magical,” Rachel says, her breath freezing in the air, becoming a cloud.
We trudge al
ong through the snow, the path to the barn deep with flakes from earlier, hand in hand, breathing in the night that seems like it might stretch on forever. The town across the river twinkles in blurred lights of red, white, gold, and green.
The stable is full of horses right now and as I switch on the lights at the base of the hayloft, a few familiar faces stick their heads out of their stalls, nickering softly at our intrusion.
“Where are we going?” she asks me, and I nod at the ladder.
“Up.”
She glances up into the hayloft. “Really?” Rachel isn’t a fan of creepy crawlies.
“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “I was up there earlier. It’s fine. No rats, no bugs, just hay.”
And also some blankets, which she discovers as soon as she’s up there.
“There’s a lantern, but I don’t know if you can see it,” I say as I climb up after her.
She turns the knob and the loft is filled with a warm glow.
That same glow fills my heart.
There’s Rachel, settling amidst flannel blankets atop dry, clean hay, her nose red from the cold. She smiles at me, quick and nervous at first as I stand there, my feet on the last rung of the ladder, and then something passes over her eyes. They become serious, grave, not in sadness or something heavy, but there’s a depth to them that wasn’t there before. A knowing. A wanting.
A yearning.
She starts to remove her parka, then her sweater, her eyes never leaving mine. She’s looking so deep into my soul that I feel something inside me stir. It’s not just lust. It’s not my dick straining against my jeans. It’s something much more.
It’s a shift.
It’s a bookmark sliding in the middle of a novel where the hero’s world is blown apart.
Everything that happens before that page is the before.
Everything that happens after is the rest of the hero’s life.
This moment is the dividing moment, where a world is halved in two and there’s no turning the pages back.
She continues to undress, and our eyes never break apart, not until she’s completely naked and lit by the glow of the lantern, her clothes discarded around her like petals.
In my sixteen years, I’ve seen the most breathtaking sunsets out here on the ranch, the way the sun melts behind the glaciers, casting everything in gold. I’ve seen sunrises that make you believe in God, all the colors in the world. I’ve seen the fields come alive again in the spring, so bright and lush you can’t believe they’d ever died. I’ve seen calves being born, eagles that soar higher than the sun, I’ve seen horses galloping across the plains with sheets of rain chasing their tails.
But I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous as this.
Rachel is in front of me, naked and bare, all sleek lines and soft skin and pale places, hidden places, places that only exist for me.
“I’m sorry I’ve made you wait so long,” she says to me, her voice so low it’s barely audible above the stir of horses below. “I wasn’t ready.”
I’m already climbing over her, pressing my finger to her lips. “Please don’t apologize. I would have waited forever.”
She looks away, breaking our gaze. A flash of shame comes over her eyes.
I kiss her forehead and murmur against it, “We don’t have to do this, Raven. There’s no rush.”
“I know,” she whispers, shifting her head back so she’s looking at me. Her eyes are brimming with tears. It strikes me so hard, so deep, that I swear it goes right through me like a bullet. “But I want to. I need to. I need to feel your love, Shane. Please. I need to feel how you love me.”
I can’t argue with that. I get undressed quickly until I’m totally naked, my skin both hot and cold. I take the condom out of my discarded jeans, leaving the gift still inside my pocket.
This is a different gift entirely. Her soul to mine. Mine to hers.
I slip the condom on with shaky hands, hoping I got it right.
I move between her legs as they open for me.
She reaches up, grabbing the back of my neck, my shoulders.
“Tell me if anything is too much,” I tell her, my voice already shaking in anticipation. I don’t want to hurt her, but I know I just might. “Tell me if you want me to stop and I’ll stop.”
“I love you,” she says as an answer.
Everything inside me blooms and breaks and blooms and breaks. “I love you, too.”
I take my time turning her on, making her wet, making her ready. In this hayloft, we have all the time in the world. In this place, this moment, we are the world.
When she’s close, her breath short, her thighs tense, I push inside her.
She grips me hard, her nails digging in. There’s strain on her brow.
And all I feel is hard tension swirling into bliss.
There’s nothing like this.
There never will be.
It’s just a spiral of her and me, wrapping around each other, going down, tumbling, turning.
Fucking hell.
I don’t even think I can last as long as I need to.
My pace quickens, my hips slamming into hers, and finally her face relaxes, her legs wrap around my waist, her mouth at mine, and I’m fucking gone.
I pump once, twice, hoping, wishing on some wild star that this feels as good for her as it does for me.
And then it’s over. My mind has melted. My heart is a jackhammer in my chest. My muscles won’t stop shaking.
I brush the hair off her forehead, damp with sweat, and gaze into her eyes, searching for a sign that she’s okay.
“Are you okay?”
She nods, licks her lips. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry that was so…”
“It was enough,” she says. She smiles. “Believe me, it was enough.”
I grin back at her, kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips, her chin.
“But you didn’t come.”
She gives me a wry smile. “I know. But there’s no rush. You’ve made me come a million times before, and I’m sure you’ll do it a million times more. That’s not why I did this. It’s not why I wanted to lose my virginity with you. I just wanted to be a part of you forever. I just wanted to feel you inside me. And I did. And I still can. I don’t think I’ll ever stop feeling you now.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
I kiss her again. Again and again.
Time passes. I hear my dad’s truck drive in. But the barn still remains our sacred place, and underneath the flannel blankets, there is no cold. We are warm, we are whole, we are one.
We have sex again. This time I make my fingers go into overdrive and she manages to come at the same time I do. It’s like we’re spinning out into space together, weightless, dancing in the stars.
But the night starts to get away from us and I know it’s time to go. After she gets dressed, shivering as she slips on her clothes, I take the box out of my pocket and hold it out for her.
“Merry Christmas,” I tell her.
“What is this?” she asks, awestruck. Her cheeks are still flushed from sex and she’s glowing. A woman before me.
“It’s a present, obviously. Open it.”
She looks at me wide-eyed. “You shouldn’t have.”
I just nod at it.
She takes off the flimsy ribbon, then the lid. It was just from a store in the mall and I know it’s not made of diamonds or anything but…
She gasps and stares.
A tiny rose gold wishbone necklace. The lady at the counter says that all the girls these days love rose gold. I hope that’s true.
“Shane,” Rachel whispers.
“Do you like it?” I ask, my heart in my throat.
She looks at me and tears spill down her cheeks.
I wasn’t expecting that reaction but I won’t complain.
“I love it,” she says through a sob. “I love it.”
I reach over and kiss her through her tears. “Good. I thought you
might want a wish for a rainy day.”
She wraps her hands around my neck and holds me close to her. “Shane,” she whispers and her voice is choked with something more profound than just gratitude. “There’s only one thing I wish for.”
“What?”
“Run away with me.”
I try and understand. This is the first I’ve heard of it. “Where?”
“Anywhere. Anywhere but here. Shane…I don’t want to be in this town anymore. My mother…my father…I need to leave, or else.”
My heart rate is picking up again. “Or else what? Raven, talk to me. What is all this?”
She shakes her head, tears spilling in rivers down her face. “I just want to go away. Please.”
“Okay,” I tell her, grabbing her hand and holding it to my chest. “Your heart is where my home is. I’ll go wherever your heart goes.”
“Do you mean that?”
I nod. I love it here, but it’s not the same without her. If she wants me to run away with her, I’ll go. I’ll go anywhere if her hand is in mine.
“I promise. Anywhere, anytime.”
She seems to calm before my eyes. “I need to leave…”
“I know.”
“I can’t tell you…”
“Why can’t you?”
“Because…it doesn’t matter. I just needed to know if you’ll leave with me.”
“I told you I will. No matter what.”
She nods and takes my hand to her lips, kissing my fingers, her bright blue eyes watery and warm and reaching into parts of me I long thought dead and dormant. “Thank you.”
A pause.
A whisper.
“Thank you.”
10
Shane
"Shane," my father says, exasperated.
It takes me a moment to realize he must have been saying my name for the past minute or so.
I pull Polly to a halt and glance over my shoulder at him as he comes forward on Major. Major is a large, dapple-grey half quarter horse, half Percheron and the oldest horse we have. The horse is twenty-six, the same age as me, and in some ways feels like an extra sibling. He doesn't get ridden much but today my father decided to take him out for a stroll, especially as we were only patrolling fences down by the riverbanks and didn't have to go very far.