The Free

by K. Webster

  “Has a crush.”

  “Crush?”

  “Wants to kiss you and have all your babies,” I joke.

  Her features grow stormy. “I don’t want him as a husband. He is weak and small. I want you as my husband.”

  For fuck’s sake. Here we go again.

  Thankfully, the kid returns with our drinks and appetizer. He openly gawks at Eve.

  “Look elsewhere,” she barks at him.

  His cheeks turn red and he glances at me in confusion. “Uh, can I get your order?”

  “She’s never been here, so I want to give her the true Muskies experience. How about an order of chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, and corn. Then, maybe the mushroom chicken with sweet potato fries, and fried okra. The fried green beans sound good too. Leave a dessert menu too.”

  The kid quickly scribbles down our order and rushes off.

  “You scared him,” I tease as I unwrap our straws. “Mean Eve.”

  Her lip curls up, venom in her glare. “I don’t like him looking at me.”

  “I feel sorry for your future boyfriends.”

  “Boyfriends?”

  I clear my throat as I grab a mozzarella stick. “Yeah. Guys who take you to dinner or the movies. Kiss you. Love you. That sort of thing.”

  “Like you.” She smiles so sweetly it makes my heart ache. “Boyfriend.”

  “Eh, no, babe, er Eve. I’m nothing to you. Just your friend.”

  Her brows furl together. “Mine.”

  So she’s a possessive little shit like me.

  Wonderful.

  “Right. So subject change. These things are fucking amazing. I like it in the red sauce. It’s called marinara, but it’s tasty in ranch too.” I dunk my stick in the marinara and take a bite.

  She watches with rapt fascination and then mimics my actions. Her groan of pleasure shoots right to my dick. I’m hard as fuck watching her eat a stupid cheese stick. She licks off a drop of red sauce and then double dips the stick. I don’t correct her because it’s not like we haven’t already swapped spit before. Once she swallows, she eyes the straw in confusion.

  I chuckle. “Like this.”

  She picks up her drink and wraps her plump lips around the straw. It doesn’t help the state of my dick whatsoever. She sucks up the Mountain Dew and then makes a face.

  “It burns!”

  “It’s just carbonation. It’s good.”

  She sips again. And again. And again. As soon as she gulps it all down, she smiles. “It’s good. I want more.”

  I pass her mine and set the empty glass out on the edge for the kid to refill. When he strolls back over, he’s more confident than before.

  “I thought you looked familiar, man. Are you Will Knox’s brother?” he asks, grinning.

  “Yeah,” I admit.

  “No shit! I’m friends with his son, uh your nephew, Evan. We both are seniors and play basketball together. I’m Rex.” Then, he turns his attention back on Eve. “You go to school around here?”

  “Look away,” she hisses again.

  “Eve,” I growl. “You can’t say shit like that.”

  Rex doesn’t seem bothered and waggles his brows at me. “Don’t worry. I like a challenge.” He whistles as he bounces off.

  “Listen,” I say, patting her thigh. “Things are different than they are out there in the wild. You can’t tell people to look away simply because you don’t want to talk to them.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s…I don’t know…tacky.”

  “Tacky?”

  “Rude. Mean. Cruel.”

  Her nostrils flare. “I don’t like his eyes on me. It reminds me of the way my brothers looked at me.”

  Well, fuck.

  “And how’s that?” My voice is husky.

  “Like I’m something they could have if only they could get me alone.”

  Protectiveness washes over me. Sensible me knows the kid is just flirting. But possessive me wants to carve his eyes out so he doesn’t make her feel like she’s something that can be conquered and owned.

  “I’ll protect you,” I whisper, leaning in to kiss her head.

  “Because you’re a good husband.”

  And fuck if my dick doesn’t jump at her fucked up words.

  “I can’t be your husband. You’re sixteen, babe.”

  “I already know how to be a wife,” she argues, sounding very much like the teenager she is despite the crazy words escaping her.

  “I’m sure you’ll make a great wife one day when you’re older.”

  She opens her mouth, but I shove another cheese stick in it. Her brown eyes flare with irritation, but the greasy goodness wins over. We eat in somewhat of an amicable silence until Rex shows back up.

  He sets all of our plates down and then plants his dumb ass in the booth across from us. Eve glowers at him, her hand curling around the steak knife sitting on the table. The kid is oblivious. He’s the prey and taunting a fucking predator.

  “So, Eve,” Rex says. “Can I have your number?”

  “Sixteen,” she hisses hotly as though that is supposed to ward him off.

  I guess, technically, it worked for me.

  “Cool,” he says with a chuckle. “I’m seventeen. I meant your phone number, though.”

  “She doesn’t have a phone,” I tell him. “Sorry, man.”

  “No worries. I could be a good boyfriend. Buy you a phone and shit. So we could talk every day.” He grins at her. So naïve.

  “I have a boyfriend.” Her words bite out at him. “We talk every day.”

  “Lucky guy,” he grumbles. “Do I know him? Shit, is it Evan? That fucker!”

  “Atticus.” She turns her pretty face to smile at me.

  Oh, fuck no.

  Rex’s eyes widen. “Wait? Atticus? This Atticus? How old are you, dude?”

  “I’m not her boyfriend,” I attempt to explain.

  “We sleep together,” Eve reveals, her words dropping like bombs on our dinner plates.

  His eyes dart back and forth, wide and confused. “Oh.”

  Yeah, oh.

  Fuck.

  “Listen,” I tell him with a low growl. “She’s not from around here. She gets her words confused and mixed up. We’re not sleeping together in the way you’re thinking. She’s just sleeping at my cabin until I can get her back to her home. Nothing is going on.”

  The last thing I need is for him to blab that shit to Evan, who will then blab that shit to Will. Fucking hell no.

  “None of my business,” Rex says, his hand jerking in an awkward way as if to blow it off. “I hope you enjoy your dinner. I’ll get out of your hair.”

  He stands and before he walks away, I grab his arm. “Kid, nothing is happening.”

  “Yeah, duh. Nothing.” He pulls away. “I have other tables to check on.”

  Eve relaxes once he’s gone and I’m all wound up.

  “This was a bad idea,” I grumble. “People are going to get the wrong impression.”

  She doesn’t fucking care. Simply eats up the mashed potatoes like they’re the best thing in the world.

  God, I need to get the hell out of here.

  And send her back.

  That thought makes my chest ache, but it’s a necessity.

  * * *

  * * *

  “I need supplies.”

  He looks up from the sink where he’s scrubbing a pot from lunch earlier and frowns. “Pads? Peanut butter?”

  Well, maybe those too eventually.

  “More knives. Boots. An ax. A pack like yours to store fruit.”

  His eyes bug out of his head. “Why?”

  It’s been a week since he took me to Muskies. Since then, we’ve been trapped in this house. But rather than us going back to the way things were, he avoids me. So I’m trapped with someone who doesn’t want to be around me. He’s even taken to sleeping in his chair. He won’t kiss me. And he’s certainly made no moves to touch my body.

 
I’m angry.

  I want to slap and claw at him.

  He thought I was cruel to Rex. Well, this is cruel to me. To tease me with the idea of him becoming my husband only to rip it away. He wants me gone—back to my home in the woods—and I want that too. I’ve spent all week making traps and gathering supplies. Now, I want more. Once I have what I need, I’ll go back.

  “I want to go home.”

  His eyes flash with hurt, which makes no sense considering he’s been ignoring me for the most part all week. “Already?”

  “I’m healed,” I bite at him.

  He dries off his hands and walks over to me. “But it’s not safe there.”

  “It’s not safe here either.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Each day I spend here, I grow weaker. I won’t be able to survive out there if I don’t leave soon.”

  “You’re already surviving here. You don’t need to go out there.” His hand reaches up to caress my cheek. “Please, Eve. Don’t go. Just stay.”

  Tears flood my eyes. “Why? You don’t want me for a wife.”

  His gaze drops, as does his hand. “Can’t you just stay as my friend?”

  “Like Monica?” I challenge.

  He snaps his head up. He knows what friend I’m talking about. “That’s just a show.”

  “They’re friends.”

  “It’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re both consenting adults!”

  “You throw out these stupid rules that mean nothing to me,” I cry out, tears leaking down my cheek. “You look at me like Chandler looks at Monica. They are husband and wife. They’re friends too. Why can’t we be like them?” My bottom lip wobbles.

  He pinches the bridge of his nose and is quiet for a long time. Then, he lifts his hardened stare and pins me in place. “I’ll take you to get supplies.”

  I turn on my heel and run outside so he won’t know he just broke my aching heart in two.

  Neither of us speaks on the drive into town. He’s gone silent and hasn’t argued on the matter anymore. I feel defeated in ways I’ll never be able to express. I’m just ready to get it all over with. Get away from him and the way he makes my chest ache sometimes.

  “This is really the only shop in town to get good supplies. Be nice.”

  Be nice?

  His comment rubs me wrong, but I ignore it. Not speaking to him has worked so far since we had our fight. I climb out of the truck and follow him into the shop. It’s filled with more supplies than I could ever need. I go from angry to delighted within seconds. Rushing over to a shelf, I marvel at fancy metal hooks in wrapping with pictures of fish on them. I may not be able to read, but I know what they are. I’ve seen Reed fishing plenty of times to know. I’m definitely getting some of these.

  I grab a handful and shove them in my pocket.

  “Whoa,” Atticus says. “You can’t just steal them. I need to pay for them. Just put everything you want over there on the counter.”

  I follow where he’s pointing and discover a woman staring at me curiously. She’s pregnant like Devon. It only makes me hurt more knowing I won’t be able to have Atticus as a husband and carry his children. I look away from the woman and start gathering all sorts of tools I think I might need. There’s a pack that resembles Atticus’s, so I grab it too. The more stuff I accumulate, the more I think I’ll need two packs. I grab an extra just in case. I bet I could strap it to Blind Bear. He’s a big dog and could probably handle the pack better than me. I’m just feeling some blankets when I hear giggling.

  Snapping my attention over to the woman, I discover that Atticus is leaned against the counter speaking to her. No longer interested in my supply gathering. I watch the way they interact. As friends. But…she stares at him in a wistful way. As though she misses him.

  I stalk around some shelves in the middle of the shop, silently getting closer. I’m good at sneaking up on animals. They never knew what hit them. I step to the side and she catches me.

  “Hey, Eve, is it? I’m Cassandra. Nice to meet you, sweetheart. Atticus says he’s looking after you for a friend. Glad to have you here and let me know if you need help finding anything.”

  Cassandra.

  I take a threatening step toward her, but Atticus blocks me.

  “Don’t,” he growls, no room for argument. “I know what’s going on in that little fox brain of yours and you need to quit right now. I’ll buy this shit. Go sit in the truck.”

  I shove at his chest, but the big bear doesn’t move.

  “Now, Eve.”

  I’m embarrassed that he chooses her over me. Is she pregnant with his child? Is that why he doesn’t want me? With hot tears in my eyes, I storm outside. The door barely closes behind me when I lose my footing on the ice and fall hard on my bottom. My wrist turns at an awkward angle, making a sharp pain shoot up my arm. The sob I’d been trying to hold in rips from me.

  The door flies open and boots crunch behind me.

  “Eve, baby, are you okay?” Atticus kneels beside me, his palm running over my head, stroking me.

  “I fell.”

  “I see that.”

  Another sob chokes past my lips.

  “Hey,” he coos. “Are you hurt?”

  I nod, swiping at my tears with my good hand. “I twisted my wrist.”

  His brows furrow with concern. “Let me get you in the truck and after I pay for that stuff, we’ll take a look at it.”

  I let out a squeak of shock when he scoops me in his arms. He’s warm and strong and safe. I nuzzle my face against his scruffy beard and inhale his scent. When my lips press to his jaw, he doesn’t get onto me for it.

  He sets me inside the truck and then leans over to start it. Once heat is flooding inside, he gives me a chaste kiss on my cheek.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Ten minutes later, he tosses the bags in the back and climbs into the truck. He reaches over and takes my hand.

  “This one?”

  It doesn’t hurt like it did when I first fell. Just sore. Maybe bruised. I want his hands on me, so I simply nod.

  Gently, he pulls off my glove and tugs my coat sleeve back. “A little swollen.” His hands are warm as he rotates my wrist. “Does it hurt when I move it like this?”

  “No.”

  “Good,” he rushes out. “I don’t think it’s broken. You better rest it a few days, though, just in case.”

  “I have to go home.”

  “Not until that heals.” His tone brooks no argument.

  I scowl, feigning anger, but my heart squeezes inside my chest. When he’s being sweet and attentive, I don’t mind spending time with him. It’s when he ignores me and keeps his distance that I nearly die.

  Once we’re back on the road, I look over at him.

  “She misses you,” I tell him bitterly.

  “Who? Cassandra?” He lets out a heavy sigh. “We were just friends. We’re nothing now. She’s pregnant and with a guy I went to high school with.”

  Relief floods through me. I’m glad she can’t have him. She doesn’t deserve him. He’s mine.

  “I thought you were going to stab her right there in the store,” he says with a chuckle.

  “I thought about it.”

  “You’re something else, Eve.”

  “Just protecting what’s mine.”

  “I’m not…I don’t need protecting…never mind.”

  When we finally make it home, he’s once again being distant Atticus. I want to stab him now. Once he pulls up beside the house, I unbuckle and scoot over to him. His eyes widen when I straddle his lap to sit and face him.

  “Eve,” he warns.

  “I just wanted to look at you.”

  “And it’s not appropriate.”

  “Says who?”

  “Says the State of Alaska.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “They’re not here, though.”

  His lips press into a line. My mouth waters to kiss him. I
lean forward and capture his lips with mine. He’s stiff at first, but then gives me the tiniest peck back. It makes me detonate. I slide my fingers into his long hair and tug on the golden locks. His mouth parts at the pain, granting me access. I kiss him hard and probing as I grind against his cock that’s now hard as stone. His hands find my hips and for a moment I’m afraid he’ll pull me off him. Instead, he digs his fingers in, returning my passionate kiss.

  I want to devour him.

  Mark and claim him.

  Keep him.

  Moaning against his soft lips, I use his body, seeking friction for the part of me that aches for him. When my nub rubs along his length, I let out a needy whimper.

  “Fuck, Eve,” he growls. “You really are a temptation.”

  His words are cold water drenched on me. I freeze and jerk away from him.

  “What?” he demands. “Are you okay?”

  I shudder when he grips my thighs. “H-He said that to me.”

  His gaze darkens. “Who?”

  “Papa.”

  I’m yanked to him in a big hug. I claw at his coat, burying my face against his hot neck.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, stroking his fingers through my hair. “I didn’t know.”

  * * *

  * * *

  I’m losing it.

  Completely fucking losing it.

  When she was sitting in my lap, grinding on my dick, I lost all sense of reality. But the moment I said something that triggered her, we were brought back to our current situation. The one where I’m too old for her and she’s just a kid. We since gathered her supplies and brought them inside. Watching her pack away the stuff is gutting at me.

  I don’t want her to leave.

  She’s so small and tiny. No match against the harsh wilderness.

  But she’s fierce and has claws. Her spine is made of steel and her heart is an inferno.

  Eve belongs out there.

  “What do you want to have for dinner?” I ask, unable to tear my gaze away from her.

  She’s squatted in the middle of the living room with her blind dog sprawled out beside her as she unzips hidden places on her backpack.

  “Eve…”

  Her head snaps my way and she frowns. “Squirrel.”