Straight Cut

by Wyatt, Dani

  Mathias

  IT’S BEEN TWO DAYS since that blow job.

  Afterwards, I wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t all a dream. It took me a good ten minutes to get my bearings, and get the blood flowing back to my brain.

  When I did, I convinced Astrid we needed to get back to the house, so I carried her piggyback, with her legs swinging like a five-year-old as she chattered on answering my never ending questions.

  She still seems reticent to talk about her stepfather, and that is a knot that is still tight inside me. At some point, I need to know what his damage is and make sure it never comes back around to give her a second of displeasure in any form.

  We’ve settled into comfortable routine already back at the house. I love seeing her here.

  I watch her as she flits around, touches things, moves pillows around. He’s magic here and I didn’t realize how colorless my life was until she came along.

  This morning, after I ate her pussy in the shower for a good hour, then fucked her up against the wall, she made us pancakes to perfection, which she likes to eat with peanut butter and syrup on top. Which is, in fact, delicious.

  After breakfast, we hike to her campsite, loaded everything including the mangled tent into her little Subaru, and headed to town with me driving.

  That sent her into a laughing fit that lasted half the way to town saying I needed a crowbar and some Crisco to fit into the driver’s seat. I pretended to be annoyed but deep down, anything that makes her laugh is fine by me. Even when it’s at my expense.

  Now, I’m dropping her off at Duffy’s while I run a few errands.

  After that, we’ll take her and all her stuff back to my place.

  Because that’s where she lives now, even if she’s not completely clear on that point.

  I’m never letting her go.

  If you had told me three days ago that you could be as sure about spending your life with someone in such a short time, I would have said it was bullshit. But it’s not.

  I’ve got my arm slug around her shoulders as we walk from the car to the bar entrance, looking around to make sure no one is looking at her. She’s got her hair in two long braids today, wearing her jeans and pink boots, but on top she’s sporting one of my white tank tops tied in a knot at the waist and as sexy as I thought it was earlier, now that we’re out in the world, I’m rethinking things.

  Her nipples are pushing out, she’s told me she’s not a big bra sort of girl and I thought I’d won the jackpot with that.

  But, it’s my fucking jackpot and thinking other dudes are going to be enjoying an eye full of what’s mine is about to make me go postal.

  I shake away the jealousy because I can’t do a shit ton about it right now and grit my teeth.

  I need to get to the Sheriff and see if he’s learned anything else about her stepfather, but I don’t want her to know he was here looking for her until I have a handle on whatever the situation.

  I know one thing, he lied like a dog about her being unstable or whatever that shit is. She’s the most stable person I know, and with me behind her, below her, on top of her...I can tell you, she will be from now on.

  “Well.” Beverly is behind the bar polishing a glass when we walk in. “Look what the cat dragged in.” There’s a gleam in her eye as she looks from Astrid to me, and then back to her. “You with this pain in the ass?” She asks Astrid in a familiar tone.

  “Seems so.” Astrid leans into me as Beverly raises her eyebrows.

  “Well, ain’t that gonna set the gossip mill on fire. The curmudgeon meets mystery girl and—”

  I glare at her and shake my head, and Beverly shrugs but stops raising a hand in surrender.

  “I don’t give a shit about that. Give her whatever she wants to eat and drink. I have a couple things to do and then I’ll be back. Guess you two know each other...” I trail off and the two girls look at each other.

  Astrid snickers and puts her hand on my chest, and the simple gesture soothes me. “Well, the other day she bought me a beer, so as far as I’m concerned, she’s my new BFF.”

  Beverly chuckles, setting down a glass and pouring a shot of Dewers and shoving it my way. “Your usual. I mean, the two times a year you have your usual. It’s on me...I loved, loved, loved the chair you made. Booker gave it to me the other day. It’s beyond beautiful. I still can’t believe a guy like you makes such refined art...” She winks, then looks at Astrid. “And what can I get you? On me...”

  I take the glass and toss it back. The warm liquid burns but soothes some of the tightness I feel knowing that even for a short time she will be out of my sight.

  “Just a coke today.” Astrid answers. “But, I’d love a burger too. Not for free of course. Double patty, with bacon...extra grease.” She looks up at me. “That okay? I’m starved, for some reason.”

  “Anything you want.” I lean down and kiss the part of her hair. “I’m just going to take care of some business at the bank, and a couple other quick stops. Should be back in an hour.”

  “I’ll take good care of her.” Beverly winks at me and I growl, looking down at Astrid to find her grinning at my discomfort.

  I take Astrid’s shoulders in my hands and turn her to me. “I’ll be back. Have fun. When I’m done, we’re going to go get your new phone. I don’t like not being able to know where you are, how you are...every second, I’m thinking about you.”

  “Stalker.” She crinkles her nose and pokes a finger at my chest.

  “Proud stalker.” I reach down and give her ass a swat, then turn around and glare at every other male in the place until each one looks away. Most in town know me. I’m not one to pick a fight, but I’m also one to win any fight that picks me.

  I may not have a lot of friends, but I do have respect, and that’s enough.

  “I’m going to leave my shirt...” I peel off my a heavy flannel shirt, more a jacket I wear almost every day, with a t-shirt underneath. Fashion is not my thing, but the way Astrid looks at me, I don’t think I have to make any changes in that department. “It’s getting warm.”

  Astrid takes it from me putting it to her face, inhaling deeply. “I think whenever you leave me, you should make sure I have one of your shirts. It’s better than any teddy bear.”

  I smash my lips to hers for a full on, tongue swiping, no holds barred kiss, then let her plop down in a chair at the closest table, breathless as she holds onto my shirt, with Beverly cackling as I make my way outside.

  I didn’t want Astrid with me because I’m going to see the sheriff about her fuck-father and the other errands have to do with her. And I want them to be a surprise.

  The simple walk from the car to the bar, pride swelled in my chest. Knowing she was next to me gave me more purpose than I’ve felt before in my life.

  To me, she is perfection, and it’s still hard to believe a woman like her would want a Cro-Magnon like me.

  So, one of my tasks today is to get her sweet ass locked down. Bind her to me before she thinks twice.

  I swing open the door to Medawar’s Jewelers so hard it slams into the wall outside. It’s the only jewelry store in Walkerville, and the owner, James Medawar, shoots me a stunned look as I enter.

  “Mathias...” He fusses with the knot in his tie, looking uncomfortable and I never realized he looks like an undertaker with his black suit and tie. “This is a surprise, is something wrong...”

  He was an acquaintance of my parents, but I’ve never had any use for jewelry and probably came off as rude to him in the past, because materialistic things like jewelry made no sense to me.

  Until now.

  “No.” I grunt walking toward a jewelry case full of rings. “Nothing’s wrong.” I start, then grab the edge of the glass case, arms shoulder width apart, elbows locked, leaning in and looking like I’m probably about to be sick all over the perfectly polished glass. “I’m fine. I need a ring.”

  “A ring?” He throws me a puzzled look but steps my way, maintaining a safe distance be
tween us. “What sort of ring?”

  I stare into the case. Under the glass are all sorts of diamond ring sets, but nothing looks right.

  Not for my perfect love.

  “Is there something bigger? Different?”

  “Bigger and different...” He steps forward, looking into the case full of diamonds rubbing his forehead and I understand a good portion of the diamonds would not be considered small, but I don’t see anything that’s just right.

  “Yes,” I snap, then stand straight, shoving my hands down into my front pockets. “Bigger. Not so...common looking...”

  “Well.” He brings his hand to his chin, half covering his mouth as he contemplates. “I have some heritage jewelry I purchased recently from an estate. It doesn’t usually sell to the market around here, I tend to find buyers in New York, out east, California...”

  “I want to see.”

  “The pieces are...” He’s trying to be tactful, and I narrow my eyes when he finishes. “Not for the average budget.”

  “Bring them out.” I enunciate each word, hard and clear.

  “Very well.” On a huff he disappears into the back room. A few minutes later, he re-appears with a hinged black velvet box about twelve inches long and half as wide, and sets it on the glass case in front of me.

  He holds a hand on the lid, ready to open it, when he adds. “Mathias, I knew your parents. I’m not trying to be rude, but I don’t want you to get your heart set on something you can’t afford...”

  “Open. The. Box.”

  One thing I’m good at, is keeping my business my business. My parents did as well. People around here know I have leased parts of my land to an oil company, but they have no idea how many wells or what their production has been. Most around town think I’m some crazy burl wood hunter with a creative flair and my parents’ money must have built my house for me.

  He pops the top open and inside are six rings, but I only see one.

  “That one.” I jab my finger at the center ring. It only takes me a second to decide, but I hear James sigh.

  Before he can give me some bullshit protest again, I move things along.

  “Just give me the fucking price and stop sighing like that.”

  He picks the ring up, placing it in my open palm, and meets my eyes. “It’s in the low six figures.”

  “That’s not a price.” I’m getting fucking annoyed. “How much?”

  “Two hundred twenty thousand. I’m rounding down for you, since I know your parents. You know I’d give you a line of credit if I could, but I don’t extend credit lines in that amount... I realize it’s probably not anything you are able to—”

  “I’ll take it.” I interrupt, before he can fucking sigh again. “I want the nicest box you have. Polish it up. I’m going to the bank, I’ll have them wire you the money. Write down your account information.” I grab a business card from the holder on the counter and flip it over, shoving it across the glass.

  James hesitates, then takes a pen from his suit jacket pocket and does what I ask. With a grunt, I’m out the door with the business card, on my way across the street to the bank.

  That’s another pain in my ass with the teller, Angie and the bank manager asking me eighteen thousand questions, but in fifteen minutes, I’ve got that task completed and I’m on to the last. The one that’s been gnawing at my gut since the day I met Astrid.

  More accurately, her step-fucker.

  The cool of the morning has burned off as the sun comes out from behind the clouds, and I make my way around the corner in the middle of town toward the police station. By the time I get there, an irrational anger bubbles inside of me

  How long have I been away from her? Half hour? Forty minutes?

  Tension grows inside of me with every additional minute. I don’t want her out of my sight another second, so I need to speed this up.

  “Hi there.” Martha blows me a kiss from behind the glass at the front desk as I come through the door. “I just talked to your mom...”

  I try to hide the roll of my eyes, but she catches it. I had two missed calls from mom this morning after our shower and fuck session and a text message with her usual, checking on my little boy. Call your mother.

  I intended to, but my head, well both of them, are so obsessed with Astrid it slipped my mind. I make a note to be sure to call her later from the cabin, with Astrid there. I might even use the fucking Facetime deal my mother loves, so I can introduce my parents to their future daughter-in-law and mother of the brood of grandbabies that will start arriving soon. Beginning hopefully in about nine months.

  Thankfully the dispatch phone rings and Martha has to answer, but she buzzes me through the door and I make my way through the station. Marshall is at his desk and turns my way.

  “Well, hello. Two times to town in one week? Are you dying? Is it the apocalypse?”

  “Shut up.” I bark, looking through Booker’s open office door to see him on the phone, but he looks up and waves me in.

  “Hey, rumor has it you didn’t come to town alone...” Marshall gives me a smirk.

  I shake my head. “How the fuck do you know that?”

  He shrugs and nods toward Booker. “Beverly called.”

  “Jesus, this town...” I close my eyes and bite down, listening to my teeth crack from the pressure. “Nobody has anything better to do?”

  “Apparently not.” He leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head. “So, who is she?”

  Before I can snap back at him, the Sheriff comes out of his office with a stupid smile.

  “Don’t.” I shake my head at him, and he raises his hands in surrender.

  “Hey, I can’t help it if you coming to town with some mystery girl is the news of the decade around here.”

  “Whatever.” I grumble. “I’ve been happier in the last three days than probably my whole fucking life, so yuck it up, assholes. I don’t even fucking care, to be honest.”

  They look at each other with restrained grins.

  “I want you to do me a favor.” I direct toward Booker. I need to get on with the reason I’m here.

  “If I can, of course.” He replies.

  “That guy. The one that was here the other day, looking for his step-daughter.”

  They both look at me with odd expressions, and a chill runs up my spine.

  “Yeah, he was just here again, must’ve been twenty minutes ago. Still looking for her. He got a little pushy, if you can believe it, had to remind him who he was talking to.” The look in Booker’s eyes tells me he’s putting the pieces together. “Is the girl you’re with...”

  My blood turns cold. “He was here? Now, today?” I point to the ground, my chest tight, my hands turning to fists.

  “Yeah, like I said, you just missed him. He’s still looking for her, says she’s suicidal, is off her meds...keeps changing his story. I told him I couldn’t do much. He seems to think she’s here though. It all feels hinky, you ask me. If she really was an in-danger person, he would file a missing person’s report back in his own town. Have some physician or psychiatric orders—”

  “Fuck. Where was he going, do you know?”

  Marshall shrugs. “No. Didn’t say. Just headed out the front door saying he would do some looking around himself...”

  I half bolt, leaving them launching questions from behind, but I’m already out the front door and headed to Duffy’s.

  11

  Astrid

  AS I SIT IN DUFFY’S chatting with Beverly, out of the corner of my eye, I see the ponytail guy from the other day, hanging around by the back door to the bar.

  When he sees me look his way, he slinks back a bit, and I do my best to ignore him but I can tell he’s watching me. Not that it matters, I intend to stay right here with Beverly until Mathias gets back, then I doubt he’ll come anywhere near me.

  “That’s wild. You should write a romance book.” Beverly smiles, twirling her glass of ice water on the table as I wipe my mouth with the
white paper napkin and swallow the last bite of the burger.

  I hold my fingers over my mouth as I reply knowing there are still bits of food floating around in my mouth. “Yeah, crazy girl tries to shoot mountain man, then falls in love instead. It’s a catchy title, right?” I smile, lifting my glass with ice and coke to my lips and letting the sweet, cool liquid wash down the last bits of my lunch.

  “I’d buy it.” She giggles as I press a hand to my belly and groan.

  “I think it’s a boy.” I kid, but as soon as the words are off my lips, I shiver with the knowledge that quite possibly, with all the jizz Mathias has deposited into me since we met, it’s not impossible.

  I could be pregnant.

  The realization stuns me into silence, wondering if I’ve been so caught up in this fantasy with Mathias, I honestly haven’t considered the consequences of my irresponsible actions with a man I barely know.

  Was I so desperate to escape the sorrow and stress of my life that I fell into the first opportunity that opened for me?

  The soreness between my legs is another reminder of how reckless I’ve been. Have I been so careless because I want to pretend I don’t have major issues to deal with in my real life? Issues that aren’t going to go away by hiding in the woods, or by shacking up with a growly mountain man who has hypnotized me with orgasms and wooed me with an unrealistic sense of safety.

  When I woke up this morning, he wasn’t in bed. I heard sounds from outside and put on his t-shirt which hung almost to my knees and went to see what he was doing. Coffee was waiting in the kitchen with a note under a white mug that said, “I love you, my sprite. I didn’t have the heart to wake you. You’re too pretty when you sleep. Even when you snore.”

  I poured myself a cup and wandered to the windows of the great room and saw him by the side of a shed swinging an ax over his head, lodging it in a piece of wood which immediate splintered into two.

  He was wearing only his jeans. The morning sun streaming through the trees and shining on his sweat covered skin. His muscles rippled and worked as he split another log. And another. And another, mesmerizing me.