Credence

by Penelope Douglas

  Spinning around, I head over to the wall in my bare feet and grab a pipe from the collection of parts. When I turn around, he’s there within reach. I raise the pipe like a baseball bat, glaring at him, and ready to kill him. I’m done. I can’t take anymore.

  I swing, but instead of smashing his head, I slam the fucking steel into the bookshelf I finished today. The side splinters, giving way, and I’m gone. Lost in my rage, I beat the fucking piece—slamming the bat as hard as I can into the sides, on the top, and moving to the desk I started a few days ago, too.

  “You can’t hurt me!” I scream. “There’s nothing you can take from me! I don’t care about anything. I’m nothing!” I growl, destroying everything I made and beating it as hard as I want to beat him, because this is it. Now he fucking knows there’s nothing he can do to me. There’s nothing anyone can do to me. No one gets that power anymore. No one matters.

  I cry, covering it with another growl. No one.

  I’m stronger than you. There’s nothing you can do to me.

  “What the hell?” I hear someone shout. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Someone grabs me, pulling the pipe out of my hands, and I whip around, seeing Jake. His shirt is open, and his feet are bare, and Noah hangs back by the door, watching in horror.

  Jake looks between his son and me, breathing hard.

  I clench my fists, a beautiful numbness seeping down over me.

  Kaleb holds my gaze for a moment, the pulse in his neck throbbing, but then turns and grabs clothes off the dryer, finishing getting dressed. He doesn’t even have his boots tied before he slips on his coat and grabs his stocked pack, heading for the door.

  “Wait, what the fuck is going on?” Jake grabs his son.

  Kaleb jerks out of his hold and continues walking.

  “You’re not going anywhere in this weather!” he yells at Kaleb.

  Kaleb stops, turns, and looks at me. His eyes falter for a moment, looking sorry or some shit, and for a moment I think he’s going to come back.

  He simply holds my eyes, lays his hand flat on his chest, and taps it twice.

  I don’t know what it means, and I don’t fucking care.

  Without sparing another moment, he turns and leaves, disappearing into the cold night.

  Tiernan

  I take a bite of my toast, holding it between my fingers as I prop the book open at the table. Their eyes burn my cheeks, but I avoid their gazes as I copy notes from the text into my notebook.

  I take another bite.

  “Are you okay?” Jake asks.

  I flip the notebook over, continuing the sentence I’m writing. “I’m fine.”

  The wind howls outside, and the snow kicks up and taps at the windows. The animals have been tended to, but we won’t be doing much else outside today. It’s below zero.

  Not that I’ve been helping much lately anyway, and I don’t really care what Jake has to say about it. I dare him to pick a fight.

  “You’re fine,” Noah repeats. “You’ve said that every day for the past week. And yet, you’ll barely talk to us.”

  Guilt pricks at me, and I forget what I’m writing. It takes a moment to remember the word I was jotting down and continue.

  Noah doesn’t deserve my silent treatment. Neither does Jake, really.

  It just hurts. I don’t know what hurts exactly or why it hurts, but I’m angry, and I can’t pretend I’m not. Jake followed Kaleb that night, and I went directly to the shower that was still left running, sitting in there for a half hour before my shivers and tears subsided.

  When he came back, though, he came back alone, and I haven’t cried since. We haven’t seen Kaleb.

  “I’m sorry he did that to your piece,” Jake tells me, holding his cup of coffee.

  But I just shrug. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like I was taking it with me in April anyway.”

  “April?” Noah blurts out, and I hear him shift in his chair. “College doesn’t start until August.”

  “I’ll be finished with my course work soon,” I tell them, not looking up. “As soon as the roads are clear, I’m going home.”

  I’m eighteen, I’m financially independent, and I don’t belong here. Why would I stay?

  I feel Jake lean in, tense. “This is your home.”

  My eyes burn, and I flex my jaw to keep my emotions from betraying that I kind of like hearing that.

  “We love you,” he adds.

  But I just snicker. “So what did you think?” I ask, still writing. “I’d bed-hop every night for the rest of my life, as if we weren’t all completely insane? I was never going to stay.”

  What did he expect to happen? I’d marry one of them? Live in the boonies and have all their babies?

  Or maybe we’d just go back to being a family. Uncle, cousins, niece? I’d bring my husband here someday to meet them, the poor guy never knowing I’d screwed everyone in this house?

  How did Jake think this was going to end?

  “We would’ve backed off,” he says. “Kaleb is in love with you.”

  “Kaleb…” I breathe out a laugh. “Is an animal. I’d be surprised if he remembered the color of my eyes right now. Like any girl, I only matter as much as his next piece of ass. That’s what I’m good for to him.”

  I finish writing my sentence.

  “He wasn’t right.” Jake watches me as Noah sits quietly across from me. “And he communicates by losing his temper. He was wrong, yes, but he was hurt. The only woman he ever loved forgot about him. Almost killed him.” He pauses. “He’s in love with you, Tiernan. He was jealous.”

  Tears spring up, a cry I won’t let out aching in my throat. I want to shake my head. I want to yell and tell them it doesn’t matter. He can’t treat people like that, and it’s his choice how he communicates. No one is stopping him from saying what he needs to say.

  So, he’s jealous. So, his father and brother are in the way. He didn’t have an issue sharing me the night of the fire. Am I supposed to read his mind whenever he suddenly changes it? He’s not a human. He’s a bear. His love feels like shit.

  I straighten, slamming my book closed and picking up my stuff as I rise from the table. I walk around the kitchen, quickly pushing the thoughts from my head as I leave.

  “Tiernan,” Jake calls after me.

  I stop, hesitating a moment before I turn my head.

  Jake sits in his chair, looking at me. “When Kaleb stopped talking, I tried to use sign language with him,” he tells me. “I still remember some of it.”

  And then he puts his palm to his chest and taps twice, imitating the gesture Kaleb made before he left last week.

  “This…” he says, “means ‘mine’.”

  Steam drifts out of my mouth, clouding into the air. The peak lies ahead, the view so much the same as the first time I stood on this balcony back in August. But so different, too.

  The chill has seeped through my white knit hat, and I hug myself with the brown plaid blanket Mirai sent me in the fall wrapped around me and a mug of cocoa in my hands.

  My teeth chatter. The wind chill is well below zero.

  And for a moment, I let my guard down and wonder. Where is he?

  I stare out at the view, the snow-covered trees spread out all the way to the snow-capped peak, beautiful and desolate. Cold and lonely.

  There’s only two directions he would’ve gone. Deeper into the forest, to the fishing cabin. Or to town.

  Kaleb hates town.

  The frigid air stings my lips. Another minus twelve degrees and frostbite can happen in as few as fifteen minutes. My fingers soak up the warmth of the mug, but even now, the blood is running cold, making them hard to stretch.

  I try to stay longer, to feel what he might be feeling out there, but it’s too cold. I love the snow, but when it gets to this temperature it’s not fun anymore. I turn around, the snow on my balcony crunching under my hard-soled slippers.

  Sliding the glass door open, I kick off my shoes just inside a
nd step into my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. The fire crackles to my right.

  I walk over to my bed and pick up my pillow, smelling the case. It smells like Snuggle. I washed the sheets after Kaleb left, but his smell was still here somehow. Now, it’s gone.

  Tossing the pillow down, I drop my blanket to the bed and pull off my hat, standing there for about three seconds before I just let my feet carry me. Drifting out of my room, I loiter in the hall, shuffling my feet for a moment before I disappear up Kaleb’s stairs. It’s only about three in the afternoon, and despite the tense talk at the breakfast table this morning, Jake and Noah are happily working in the shop, pulling together in Kaleb’s absence. How are they not more worried? I’m pissed at him, but it’s winter. He could die out there. What if he didn’t even make it to the cabin?

  Turning the knob, I swing open his bedroom door, the room dark except for the light coming from the window, and step inside.

  I close my eyes, inhaling his scent. The world spins behind my lids, and I feel dizzy. Why can’t Noah’s smell do this to me? He’d be so happy to have me in his arms tonight. He’s been good about not being obvious, but I know he wants to hold me. He wants me to look at him.

  Walking farther into the room, I step over to the bed and pick up one of Kaleb’s pillows, his sheets rumpled and his blanket half hanging onto the floor. I press the pillow to my nose, the icy coolness of his pillowcase making me shiver before I can breathe him in.

  I draw it in, not smelling anything at first, but then it’s there. Still there. The trees and thistles, wood and leather. And something else. Something you only get when you’re buried in his neck. Heat swirls low in my belly, and I sit down on the bed, weak.

  It’s cold in here. Dark and dusty. The fireplace is black from years of ash, and even though he didn’t take anything that I would notice, it feels abandoned.

  Walking over to the far wall, I stand at the picture window and stare into the woods, the snowy landscape beautiful and peaceful.

  I’m still angry.

  And if he walked through the door right now and wanted to make amends, I’d probably roll over and lap up any scraps he wanted to offer. He would win.

  He’s winning right now. It’s been a week, and I’m right back where I was when I first came here. Making myself unhappy, because…

  Because I’m only worth anything if someone wants to love me.

  Just like with them.

  The tears that have been perpetually burning at the backs of my eyes for the last week dry, and I draw in a long, deep breath, releasing everything and the weight on my shoulders along with it.

  I’m bigger than this. I want to live.

  Spinning around, I leave the room and close the door, taking one last look at his space before I do.

  Then, I head downstairs and into the shop, turning the music the guys are listening to up as I get started on the armoire.

  Noah smiles at me, I pull on my goggles, and we all get to work.

  Tiernan

  Twisting the handle, I rev the engine, the back tire skidding under me and making a half moon in the snow. I sit down, lock my boots on the pedals, and speed off, racing up the salted driveway as the dark clouds hang overhead.

  I love this weather. It’s in the twenties, and while December and January were painful it didn’t take long to toughen me up. I barely wear a coat outside these days.

  I’m not even sure what day it is, only that it’s February. I think.

  I pull to a stop at the shop door and take off my helmet, hanging it on the handlebar as I climb off the bike.

  “I love it!” I tell Jake.

  “Want one?”

  I smile, watching him wipe the grease off his hands. “Maybe something street legal, instead.”

  He shakes his head, and I lean on the washing machine, kicking off my boots. The cuff of my beautiful Aran Islands sweater is unraveling, a wool string hanging over my hand, but it only feels good, because I know my clothes have now been lived in, worn for hours and days doing things I love.

  Five pieces of furniture sit around the shop—two end tables, a headboard, another chest, and the wardrobe. I would’ve finished more in the past couple of months, but I completed all my coursework already, got my college applications done, and tried a ton of new recipes, using our perishable food while it was still good.

  It’ll still be at least eight weeks before I can taste a fresh, crisp apple, though. I can’t wait to get to town.

  But then some days, I hope the snow never melts.

  There’s dirt under my nails, and I never need make-up because I’m outside every day, earning my rosy cheeks.

  Jake tosses the rag down and looks at me. “It doesn’t have to be street legal,” he tells me. “If you keep it here.”

  I meet his eyes, but then bend over to scoop the clothes out of the dryer.

  “For when you visit, I mean.”

  I nod, but I don’t look at him again. I know what he wants. He’d love for me to stay, but he’ll settle for an assurance that this is home base when I’m on school breaks.

  He’s assuming I’ve calmed down, and I’ll stay through the summer.

  I can’t, though. I might be the reason Kaleb hasn’t come home. Maybe he will once I’m gone.

  Without responding, I put the clean clothes on top of the dryer, toss in the wet ones, and jog up the stairs into the house.

  Blowing into my hands, I rub them together as the heat of the fireplace warms the area. Guilt pricks at me as I refresh the dogs’ food and water. I don’t want to ignore Jake’s request, but I have two months yet. At least.

  I don’t have to dread leaving them yet.

  Of course, it seems like yesterday that I said the same thing in December.

  Heading through the living room, I climb the stairs, but the front door opens behind me, and I look over my shoulder, seeing Noah step in. He kicks his boots of the snow and whips off his hat and work gloves.

  He looks up, and my eyes meet his eyes.

  He smiles like a devil, and my heart skips a beat.

  No.

  I gasp and bolt up the stairs, hearing his footfalls behind me, charging my ass. I squeal, grabbing his arm as he passes me, both of us stumbling and laughing as we race for the shower.

  “I’m first!” I shout.

  We both scramble for the bathroom, slamming into the door and falling inside. I tumble to the floor, and he follows, grabbing my legs to stop me from standing up. I kick him, screaming and laughing, and reach up for the sink, pulling myself up.

  I dart for the shower, but he stands up, locking me in and pressing his body into mine.

  My stomach shakes, feeling his heat and breath surround me.

  And in a moment, everything quiets. The laughing stops.

  He hovers over me, his chest rising and falling against mine, and I can smell the fire on his clothes from the burning he did outside.

  His dick rubs me through my clothes, and I shift.

  “You can go first,” I say. “You need to take care of something, it seems.”

  I try to step to the side, but he stops me. “You need to take care of something, you mean.”

  He stares down at me, and I can feel the heat rolling off him. All that’s standing in his way is me.

  “Do you love him?” he asks. “Because if you don’t, then come in the shower with me, because my body is screaming.”

  I remain still.

  Maybe I should. It would feel good.

  Kaleb is staying away for a reason, after all. He’s either trying to outlast my departure, so he doesn’t have to see me, or he knows he can’t expect to come back at this point and find me untouched in his long absence, especially in a house with men I’ve already been with.

  Everyone wants this to happen.

  As he leans in, though, I plant my hands on his chest. “No.”

  I shake my head, keeping him back.

  “You love him?” he asks.

  “
I don’t know.” I frown.

  I don’t love you, though. Not like that.

  Noah needs his brother a lot more than he needs me. I don’t want to be in the middle.

  “Don’t use all the hot water,” I say, and I leave the room.

  Heading downstairs, I go for the kitchen to check the stew in the crock pot, but a faint yell hits my ears, and I look up, seeing Jake on the phone.

  “If you don’t put her on the phone, I swear I will have her airlifted out of there!”

  “Jesus, fuck,” Jake growls, pulling the receiver away from his ear and glaring at me. “Tiernan…”

  He tosses me the phone, holding his coffee in his other hand.

  “I don’t want that woman calling here anymore,” he tells me. “Answer your phone.”

  Huh?

  I hold the phone to my ear.

  “That woman?” Mirai repeats in disdain. “What does that mean? He’s a barbarian.”

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” she snips, suddenly realizing I’m on the line. “Happy holidays, Tiernan.”

  I wince. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

  We’ve been sticking to email and texting for the last ten weeks, and even though she’s called, I haven’t answered. I didn’t feel like conversation. With texting, we can state our business quickly without trying to make up shit to talk about.

  “Tiernan…”

  “I’m really sorry,” I tell her again. “I’ve just been…”

  “Living your life,” she finishes for me. “I get it. You’re not getting rid of me, though, okay?”

  “I know.” I lean on the island as Jake hangs back, looking in the fridge and trying to look like he’s not eavesdropping. “You got my present, right?”

  She lets out a laugh. “Yes. Very generous. You saying I need a vacation?”

  “Or an affair,” I tease. “A raging, hot, and mad affair with a man. Or men.”

  Jake turns his head, looking at me over his shoulder.

  I bought Mirai a trip to Fiji. Her and a plus one.

  “What do you know?” Mirai laughs again.

  “Is she hot?” Jake whispers to me.