by K. Webster
“No.” I scrub my palm over my face. “You need to stay with Devon and the kids. I’ll go. I will find her.”
He sneers at me. “I can’t trust you with her, Knox. You already abandoned her when she needed you most.”
“I was confused and stressed the fuck out,” I scream at him. “You don’t understand any of it.”
“I understand you left her because she’s pregnant,” he says at the same time I say, “She’s my cousin.”
“Cousin?” he asks, confused.
I blink, trying to process his words. “Pregnant?” I rise to my feet. “My wife is pregnant?”
Reed’s anger has morphed into a softer expression. “Your wife? She didn’t tell me any of this. You married your cousin? You? Atticus Hypocrite Knox?”
“Fuck off,” I bite out. “She’s mine. That’s all you need to know.”
Pregnant.
Pregnant.
My sweet, fierce Eve is pregnant.
What if something is wrong with the baby? She’s my fucking cousin!
But the baby is mine. Wrong or not. Ours. Innocent and created from love. I swipe at the tears and rise to my feet. I’ll go to her. I’ll find her and drag her back home with me if it’s the last thing I do.
The thought of her out there all alone, facing off with some bastard who wants to kill her, is almost too much to bear. Feral protectiveness surges through me as I start scrambling to grab my backpack out of the truck. I have a tent for emergencies that I use for hunting, so I locate that and strap it to my bag. I’m just fishing guns out from under the back seat when Reed calls my name.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to her.”
“Tell me what happened. Before you go.”
I shove my Glock into the front of my jeans and then grab my ax to shove into a loop on my backpack. Once I shut the door, I turn toward him and toss him the keys.
“I took her back. Nursed her back to health. Fell in love. Eve always told me I was her husband. I never argued it because I secretly liked that shit. But I was all fucked over her age because I thought she was a kid. And she thought I wanted to hear that she was sixteen because that’s the age I pegged her as and kept going on about it. She doesn’t understand laws and age, but she’s nineteen, man. I found that out over dinner with my family when she casually mentioned her real age. After I’d been obsessing over it for weeks. This was the same dinner my dad decided to tell me she’s his niece. My cousin. A real clusterfuck. I didn’t think…it was wrong…” I trail off and give him a helpless look. “I failed her. I failed my sweet little Eve. Told her we couldn’t be together because it’s fucking incest. Brought her here to you because if I kept her, I’d ignore the laws of the land and never let her go.”
He studies me for a long moment. “What changed?”
“Nothing. I was miserable without her. The second my dad told me who she was, I was miserable. Because I couldn’t have her. There’s no life where she doesn’t exist inside it that is worth living.” I scrub at my face with my palm. “And now she’s pregnant. My cousin who happens to be my wife in both our eyes is pregnant. I need to get to her so we can be a family. We should have never separated. Everything’s messy and fucked up and horrible without her.”
“What are you going to do when you find her?”
“I’m going to keep her.”
He smiles at me, the anger from before slipping away. “Devon has supper ready. At least leave with a full stomach. When you find her, bring her back before you haul her back to your cave. The kids will want to say a proper goodbye.”
I scan the woods behind him.
The call of the wild sings to me, beckons me.
Pleads for me to prowl into it and find peace there.
Eve is my peace.
She’s my wild.
I always knew I belonged out there. I just didn’t realize it’s because I’d always been searching for her. Even before I knew her. Before she was born. Just a feeling. A sensation. A need. And now that I’ve been exposed to the wild, I’m a slave to it. To her. My heart is shackled to hers.
I’ll never be free.
I don’t ever want to be free.
I want to be chained to her wild heart until the end of this life.
“Knox…”
“Tell Devon to make me something for the road. I’m leaving in five minutes.”
He grins. “Go get our girl.”
As he trots back inside the gate, I grab a few more supplies from the bed of the truck. By the time I walk over to the gate, he’s coming back out, a thermos in hand.
“Bad bear stew. Devon’s specialty.”
I take the stew and with a wave, I start out on my journey to find her.
Mine.
She’s mine and I’ll get her back.
I don’t care if I have to search every goddamn inch of Alaska.
I will hunt her down and claim her again.
This time forever.
* * *
* * *
Four months later…
I sniff the air. Lingering body odor. A hint of fire. Now that we’re well into summer, his stench is easier to find. Also, he’s getting reckless. After nearly getting his ass shot last month, he wasted the rest of his ammo, unloading into the trees at me. I had to take cover, which gave him enough time to escape, but I’ve picked back up on his trail. Silently stalking.
Blind Bear is a good dog and knows when to be quiet. When I stop, he stops. Together, we listen for sounds. Sometimes, he hears them better and starts in the direction we need to go. Other times, we rely on my sight. Wretch leaves a trail behind wherever he goes. Fire remains. Bloody bones from his latest game kill. Though there hasn’t been much of that lately.
I smile, knowing he doesn’t have a way to kill the animals and he can’t come back to check any of his traps. Not with us on his trail. Hunting him.
Kneeling beside a recent fire pit, I hover my hand over it. Slightly warm. He isn’t that far ahead of us. The pile of bones discarded in the fire are small. Maybe a rat or a baby bunny or squirrel. Not enough to keep him fed and strong.
I stand, listening for more sounds, but hear nothing.
I feel everything.
A roll and then a shiver of excitement.
The being is more than a being. It’s a baby. A strong one. One that kicks and rolls frequently. Pride surges through me. I knew it would be a survivor. With Atticus being its father, how could it not be?
I rub my stomach. “It’s okay, wild one. We’ll find him. We’ll get rid of him and then we’ll visit the kids again. I think you’d like them.”
The baby rolls again.
I’m smiling down at my stomach when I hear it.
Crunch.
Blind Bear growls. I quietly shush him. No sense in giving up our location if we can help it. He remains at my side, his head cocked as he listens.
Something heavy splashes into the river. Before I can stop him, Blind Bear tears off toward the sound. I’m staring off after him when the hairs on my arm stand up. I swivel around just in time to see Wretch charging for me.
Boom!
Wretch must get clipped because he howls but doesn’t stop. He has a giant limb in his hand. I aim for him again, but he nails me in the head with the limb, knocking me down to the ground.
He grabs a handful of my hair, his putrid scent making my stomach clench violently, and pulls me to my knees. I fire off another shot that misses him completely before he manages to wrestle the shotgun out of my hands. Blind Bear races forward. He releases me to aim for my dog.
No!
I kick Wretch in his gut, making him fall backward. The gun booms again, but at least it’s pointing up rather than at BB.
“Run, BB!” I cry out. “Run!”
My voice echoes through the trees. Blind Bear must understand because he takes off into the woods. I’m struggling to scramble away from Wretch when he aims the shotgun right at my stomach. Evil glitters in his eyes a
nd he grins his disgusting, toothless smile at me.
“Someone knocked your skinny ass up,” he says. “Should’ve been me.”
“Fuck you!” I scream, kicking at him again.
“You will, bitch. You fucking will. Get on your hands and knees unless you want me to pump the rest of the bullets in this gun into your stomach.”
Anger pulses through me hot and volatile. Think, Eve. What would Atticus do? Be strong for you, wild one. Think. If I protest, I have no doubt Wretch will shoot me. Shooting at me has been his favorite activity since I first met him. I need to stall until I can get to my knife.
“Okay,” I murmur. “Just don’t shoot.”
He grunts, glowering at me. “Take off that backpack.”
I wrangle myself from the pack and drop it beside me. The knife I have is tucked into one of the side loops. I’ll grab it when he’s not looking—
My pack goes sailing as he kicks it away.
“On your hands and knees.”
I turn and scan the ground for anything to use as a weapon. Within reach is a rock. I don’t know if I can pick it up, but if I can, it’ll hurt if I hit him with it. Slowly, I inch forward. The barrel of the gun presses into the back of my head as he grabs the top of my jeans. Since my belly is so big, I can’t fasten them. He’s easily able to wrench them down my thighs.
Stay strong.
Stay strong.
As I hear him fumble with his own clothes, I’m thrust into the past. For some reason I think of Nathaniel. At one time, I liked to play with him when we were little. He was always nice to me.
Until Ezekiel and Papa were killed.
He came back that night different.
Formed into a predator.
Night after night, Nathaniel transformed from my brother into this monster no better than Ezekiel or the others.
A cock rubs against my ass and then he spits. I’m dragged from the horrible things my brother did and brought back to the now.
Protect my wild one.
No longer a being.
My strong baby.
I inch forward, reaching for the rock. The barrel of the shotgun digs against my skull.
“Don’t fucking think about it, bitch. Your hole will still be hot and wet, even with your head missing.”
He makes a sick thwack sound and I cringe, wondering what he’s doing. I start to reach for the rock again, but his weight crushes me to the ground. I’m barely kept upright and from squashing my baby by my elbows. Heat floods over my back and then he falls beside me. All I need is a moment without a shotgun pointed at my head. I scramble forward and grab the heavy rock. I swing around to hit him with it, but he’s not chasing me. He’s simply staring at me with his eyes wide-open.
And an ax sticking out of his skull.
My hand trembles and I nearly drop the rock. I clutch it tighter as I whip my head to the right. Another stands there. Big, tall, feral.
Like a big bear.
An overgrown beard and crazed, violent eyes.
A happy, blind dog at his side.
“There you are, wife.”
I slump, dropping the rock as a full-bodied shuddering sob wracks through me. He kneels in front of me and his large hand gently caresses my big stomach.
“Our baby,” he whispers, his green eyes shining with pride and fierce protectiveness.
“Yes.”
He smiles and in this moment, I realize it’s truly him. Atticus. My husband. The man who came for me. As though I weigh nothing, he hauls me to my feet and then pulls my pants up my thighs.
“Did he…”
“No.”
“Good because I was wondering how I would kill a man who was already dead.”
I let out a silly laugh. I haven’t laughed in months. It feels good. I missed it.
“Your pants won’t zip,” he says, frowning.
“Your baby is big.”
Our eyes meet and his smile is wide. Proud. Happy.
I let out a squeal when he scoops me in his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck and nuzzle my face against his beard. It’s longer than I’ve ever seen it.
“I let you go for two months,” he says, his voice pained as he walks. “Then, I hunted you for four more. I can’t ever spend another day without you, babe.”
Emotion overcomes me and I sob against his neck. I missed him so much. Every single moment of every day, I thought of him. Of us. Of our baby.
“I’m so tired,” I admit. “Do you have any fruit?”
“There’s my girl. And don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you now. You’re safe. You’re mine. You’ll never have to be afraid or hungry or sad again.”
Sounds like a dream come true.
We walk for a long time until we’re far from Wretch’s expired body. We’re in a clearing that overlooks the river with a path leading down to the water.
“We can camp here for a few days. Eventually, we’ll make our way back to Reed and Devon. You’re far from home, little fox.”
My heart warms as he sets me to my feet. I watch as he efficiently begins setting up a camp. For months, I’ve lived under whatever shelter I could come by. It was the most animalistic surviving I’d done in years. No home. No one other than my dog. My pack supplies long since dwindled. Everything I consumed was something I found or hunted. I knew eventually I’d need to make a home for me and my wild one, but I couldn’t rest until Wretch was gone.
And he is gone.
Dead.
Thanks to Atticus.
Speaking of my big bear, I watch with a ravenous stare as he peels off his shirt to start erecting his tent. His artful—tattoos I since learned—back glistens in the sunlight. Blind Bear is happy as can be now that our big guy is reunited with us. His tail wags happily and I swear it looks like he’s smiling.
“Fruit?” I remind Atticus, my stomach growling fiercely.
He looks over his shoulder, a feral glint in his eyes. “I have fruit. But I can do one better.”
I cock my head to the side. “Don’t keep me in suspense,” I sass.
He laughs and it echoes off the trees, filling my soul with joy. “God, I missed that mouth.”
Abandoning his half built tent, he rummages through his pack. When he pulls out a jar, I cry out, my hand at my chest.
“No.”
“Oh, yes, baby.”
His eyes, filled with love and tenderness, gleam in the sunlight as he approaches. He unscrews the lid and the heavenly scent of peanut butter fills my nostrils. A whine bubbles up my throat.
“I love you,” I whimper.
“I love you too.”
He kisses my forehead as I dive two fingers into the untouched jar. I suck off the delicious, sticky peanut butter from my fingers and groan with delight. He winks at me before going back to the tent. I happily scoop out the peanut butter while I visually devour Atticus’s muscular form.
He’s beautiful.
And here with me.
Mine.
With practiced ease, he builds us a temporary home. A fire pit. A tent. He tells me he’ll be right back and after about thirty minutes, he returns with my pack and his bloody ax. I’ve since sat down and closed the jar to save it for later.
“You want to wash up in the river? You look like you haven’t bathed in months, Eve.”
“And you haven’t shaved in just as long.” I arch a brow at him.
He smirks. “I brought you a present.” I watch as he digs around in his pack that’s proven to be filled with wonderful things and pulls out two items I’ve missed desperately.
Fat, heavy tears well in my eyes and roll down my face. I choose this moment to let it all sink in. I’m no longer alone. We can be a family.
Atticus kneels in front of me and then pulls me to him. I remain locked in his embrace for what feels like a glorious eternity. He strokes my hair and mutters promises I feel deep in my bones until my tears dry up. I’m ready to use his gifts. I want to brush my teeth.
“Let’s go
,” I tell him as I take the toothbrush and toothpaste. “I want to clean up and then I just want you to hold me. I’m so tired.”
“I know, Eve. I know.”
* * *
* * *
I have her.
I finally have her.
My chest no longer aches but burns instead. I’m filled up with her. Every empty hole inside overflows with sweet Eve. My woman. My wife.
For four months, I searched for her. Miles and miles and miles I covered. Every so often, I’d come across evidence that she’d been close. Her stinky dog’s shits were easy to follow. But I was always just too far behind. Or I’d lose their trail and spend hours circling the same areas. Every night spent without her, a small part of me was erased. The human side of myself was giving up so the animal could take over. I needed to find her.
I’d been probably a mile away when I heard the gunshots. Never ran so fast in my entire life. And then, as if he knew I was coming, BB came out of nowhere barking.
When I walked up on them, I cracked.
Saw red.
Blood red.
His blood.
I wanted it. I wanted his blood for even daring to look at my Eve.
With a well-aimed throw, I launched that ax. Watched with glee as it split open his skull. And then, I had my girl back.
All my thoughts dissipate the moment Eve sheds her shirt on the river banks. BB has already jumped into the river and is splashing around happily. My eyes fixate on the scar on her back. Where that motherfucker shot her. I’m seeing red all over again when she turns.
Fuller breasts than I remember. Pink, mottled scars from the bear attack months and months ago. And a swollen belly, filled with my child. As she pushes her jeans down and gets completely nude, an alpha need to claim her possesses me. I quickly rip off my clothes and prowl over to her. My little fox doesn’t run. Instead, she remains waiting.
“Mine,” I growl, my palms going to her fleshy ass.
She snakes her arms up my chest and loops them at my neck. I lift her before carrying her out into the river. It’s chilly, but it feels good. Invigorating. Clean. Like we might wash away our lonely past of being separated and start fresh. I like that idea.
