Juggernaut

by K. S. Adkins

  “Never missed an episode,” Sugar offers.

  “It’s informative,” I pout, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “It’s for professionals,” Hillary points out.

  “You have to start somewhere!”

  “True,” Sugar winks. “Come on, guys, let’s be honest, she was off to a good start.”

  “She was…” India giggles.

  “What happened?” Van asks, tightening his grip on me.

  “Allergies,” India deadpans.

  “Allergies?” Van asks confused, and I slink down in my chair to hide.

  “Seasonal,” Scott says leaning forward. “We were all in the water wearing waders while taking instruction from Taylor, who really did know what she was doing…”

  “Of course I did,” I remind them. “I watched every episode twice!”

  “She was lined up, ready to kill when she sneezed,” Hillary says in her scary story voice.

  “And then she sneezed again,” Sugar chimes in.

  “Then came the mother of all sneezes,” India says biting her lip.

  “And whammo!” Scott says in a booming voice. “Her spear released straight into my thigh.”

  “To be fair,” I try. “I’m pretty sure I blacked out for a solid thirty seconds. Does anyone care I pulled a muscle in my neck?”

  “You told me it was a freak accident during outpatient surgery,” Van tries not to laugh.

  “Like I was going to admit my wife’s best friend speared me straight through the thigh during a sneezing fit?”

  “Did you at least get a fish?” he asks me.

  “Nope,” I sigh. “All I got was a stiff neck and a guilty conscience.”

  “So, when you say fishing –”

  “Poles only,” I say narrowing my eyes. “It was one time!”

  “That day went down in history as the gore of oh-four,” Sugar announces.

  With that, everyone gives into laughter, and we start pouring shots.

  And I notice the only one not doing them once again is India.

  Even with deluxe camping equipment you get up with the sun. Not that I’m not used to getting up early, I am. But I have Taylor draped over my body and in truth, I never wanted to move.

  “What time is it?” she murmurs rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  “Just after six.”

  “I don’t wanna get up,” she says burrowing into me.

  “Me either.”

  “But I have to pee,” she groans.

  “I brought the portable –”

  “In the woods, Van,” she chuckles. “It’s a rite of passage.”

  “As you wish,” I smile kissing her temple.

  “Be back,” she says, throwing the bag off and slipping on her shoes.

  Lying there, I focus on the sounds of nature around me. The birds are up and ready for the day. I could hear the lapping on the shore from the lake and then I hear… gagging.

  Frowning at that, I find my own shoes and follow the noise to find Taylor holding back India’s hair while she emptied her stomach into the grass. “Is India all right?”

  “She will be,” Taylor assures me, looking pale herself. “Can you grab Scott and a bottle of water?”

  Nodding, I double back to the coolers and grab some water before waking Scott up. When I explain her condition, he wastes no time getting to her. Several feet back, I watch Taylor and Scott work in perfect synch to comfort India. Proof the group wasn’t just friends, but family. I’m envious. I want this as well. But I’m convinced my being here is a step in that direction.

  “Is India okay?” Hillary asks coming to my side.

  “Maybe it’s something she ate?” Sugar says while looping our arms together.

  “We all ate the same thing,” Hillary adds.

  “Whatever it is,” Sugar gags. “I don’t want it.”

  Jolting to her feet, Taylor beelines it for the woods and I’m right on her heels. Bending at the waist, she’s dry heaving so I do for her what she did for India, holding her hair back.

  “Sympathetic puker,” she groans in misery.

  “You’re not sick?”

  “No, it’ll pass.”

  “Can I get you anything?”

  “Just…stay?”

  So I did.

  And she’s right, after some time it did pass.

  With breakfast done, India and Scott joined us as we prepare the pontoon for fishing. Draping her arm over India’s shoulder, Taylor kisses the top of her head and whispers in her ear. Looking up at Taylor, India beams, then finds her husband’s eyes and flat out shone. “Before we head out,” she says biting her lip. “Scott and I want to tell you something.”

  “Oh God, you’re not pregnant, are you?” Hillary asks with a look of disgust. “I can’t take any more surprises. Especially a kid. Ugh. A kid would ruin everything.”

  “Could you be any bigger of a dickbag?” Sugar accuses.

  At Hillary’s outburst, India’s face falls and Scott’s turns red. But it’s Taylor who flies forward, grabs Hillary, and drags her into ankle deep water. In an impressive move, Taylor literally lifts Hillary up and tosses her body into the lake. Hillary comes up sputtering and swearing, but Taylor knocked her right back down.

  “Do not even think of getting out of this fucking water until you’re capable of being nice. Do you understand me?” Glaring at Taylor, Hillary wants to get up but knew better. Kneeling down next to her, I watch and listen with Sugar as Taylor puts her in her place. “She’s our friend, our sister. I don’t care if it’s your nature to be pessimistic. You do that shit on your own time with your own life. Not here, not with India, not with Scott, and not with their baby. Swear to God, Hillary, you so much as think of something negative to say, I will straight drown you.”

  “Taylor,” India says from the shore. “It’s fine.”

  “Bullshit it is.” Pointing in Hillary’s face, she demands, “Fix this.”

  Thoroughly shamed, Hillary nods once, allowing Sugar to help her up only after Taylor walks away.

  “Thanks, Taylor,” Scott says with a hug.

  Giving him a small smile, she faces India and slowly falls to her knees. Resting her head on India’s belly, Taylor whispers, “I’m going to be an auntie,” while India cradles her head. Like it never happened, she stands back up calling out, “Who’s fishing?”

  No one protested. Not even a soaking wet Hillary.

  Our lines are cast and drinks are flowing. The sun is on our backs, and Taylor takes every chance to touch me while teaching me about the art of casting. Turns out it’s an art as much as it’s about patience. Both of us witness Hillary taking a seat next to India to apologize. At this, Taylor smiles.

  Sugar is constantly checking her phone so I guard her pole while she does. “She’s into someone,” Taylor glances her way.

  “What’s her name?”

  “That, I don’t know, but I do know that look on her face.”

  “What look?”

  “Pretty sure it’s the same one I have when I look at you.”

  Tell her you love her, my heart screamed. Not yet, not with an audience my mind weighed in.

  “You have a look for me?”

  “You’re cute when you play coy.”

  “I’m quite serious.”

  Staring out at the water, Taylor sighs and says, “Maybe I don’t have a look for you. Maybe it’s more of a feeling. But feel things I do, Van.”

  “I do, too.”

  “Can I ask a favor of you?”

  “Of course.”

  Quietly and with more vulnerability I thought possible, Taylor whispers, “Don’t break my heart.”

  I’m about to reassure her that would never happen when I feel resistance.

  “Oh, shit,” I freeze.

  “Start reeling, Van, you’ve got something on the line!”

  When Taylor positions herself behind me, pressing her breasts into my back, the last thing on my mind was fishing. Then she’s holding me up b
y my belt loops, urging me to lean forward, and then there was nothing at all.

  I’m the worst fake fiancée ever!

  Next to that, it is safe to say I’m not equipped to give fishing advice to anyone. First, I spear Scott—though accidentally; then I nearly kill Van, too. Shaking and close to tears, I cradle him in my lap begging him to open in his eyes.

  “He’s okay, Taylor,” India tries to calm me.

  “My fault,” I sniffle.

  “It was not,” Sugar says softly.

  “Is too.”

  “It kinda was,” Hillary offers helpfully. “He was doing fine until the juggernaut stepped in.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Hillary,” Scott groans. “She feels bad enough as it is.”

  “Well, she should,” she shrugs. “She’s not Bear Grylles.”

  “The TV guy?” Sugar asks.

  “Bingo.”

  As the two went on about the mighty Bear, I couldn’t help but think what I could have done differently. When Van’s line snagged, I explained how to reel and took his back. Whatever had been on the line really had a hold of it, and while Scott was steering the pontoon to better serve our angle, I held onto Van’s belt loops, encouraging him to lean over the side. That’s when we hit something and I lost my grip.

  This will haunt me forever.

  Van flipping out of the boat…

  The splat.

  “Taylor?”

  “Oh my God, you’re alive!”

  “You’re my gorgeous chaos, do you see the truth in my eyes?”

  “Wow,” Sugar whistles. “He has a way with words.”

  “He’s concussed,” Hillary snorts.

  “Eat a dick,” I snarl at her.

  “Are we still engaged?” he asks.

  “Of course,” I promise him.

  “Good,” he smiles, closing his eyes. “‘Cause I love you.”

  The boat goes silent while inside my chest, my heart was close to exploding with joy. Wanting to ask him to say it again, I stop myself because we have an audience. Despite everything in me wanting to hear it again, I don’t ask. No one has ever said those words to me before. I haven’t realized how powerful they were until now. I haven’t realized how much they would mean to me either. Coming more to, he blinks and asks, “What happened?” while touching his head.

  “The juggernaut happened,” Hillary quips. “What else?”

  “Would you fuck off?” I snap at her.

  “What’d I say?” she counters. “It’s true.”

  “Yo, Miss Misery,” Sugar demands. “Get over here before Taylor has you swimming with the fishes.”

  With a humph, Hillary falls onto the bench while I search Van’s eyes for pain.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “A little,” he says, trying to sit up. “What did I hit my head on?”

  Biting my lip, I look everywhere but at him when I mumble, “Rock.”

  “Rock? How did I hit my head on a rock when I’m on a boat?”

  “This oughtta be good,” Hillary coughs.

  Glaring at her, I growl, “Shut it, bitch, or I will cut your tongue out.” Meeting his gaze, I tell him exactly what happened and wait for him to lose it. Only he didn’t. “My head managed to find the lone rock in the lake and knocked me out?”

  “But I dove in and saved you,” I point out.

  “This is embarrassing,” he groans. “Wait, you saved me?”

  “After I nearly killed you, yeah.”

  “To be fair,” Scott adds. “We were trolling in very shallow water and as your captain I should have seen the rock. This is my fault.”

  “It’s your fault she had Evander dangling off the side of a boat by his ankles?” Hillary chimes in.

  “It wasn’t his ankles,” Sugar objects.

  “Ass, ankles, whatevs,” she shrugs.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” India whispers at the same time she pukes all over our feet.

  “I take it back,” Van gags. “That’s embarrassing.”

  While Scott tends to India, I fight puking and at the same time focus on Van, needing him to understand, “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey,” he says softly. “Don’t be, I’m fine.”

  Tell me you love me again…

  “You have every right to be pissed at me.”

  “Next time we shop for camping supplies I’ll get a helmet.”

  I know he was trying to lighten the mood, but it feels heavy to me. Oppressive. “What do you remember since opening your eyes?” I chance asking.

  “Wondering what happened.”

  Inside where no one could see I allow myself to pout, knowing I had no reason to. But clearly, I’m not alone in my disappointment because Sugar mumbles, “Fuck,” while Hillary whispers, “Shit,” India offers me a hang in there smile, and Scott flinches.

  “Let’s get you back to camp,” I suggest while failing at hiding my disappointment.

  I feel fine, not that Taylor is buying it. I know she doesn’t because every time she looks at me she winces. But my gut is telling me it’s more than that. Something happened, I just don’t know what it was. With dinner on the grill and Taylor, Hillary and Sugar shucking corn, I take Scott aside to speak with him while India naps.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Clearly uncomfortable, he runs his hands through his hair and avoids looking at me. “I’m asking as a friend not a business partner, Scott. Why does she look sad?”

  “Evander –”

  “Dammit, man, I can’t fix it if I don’t know what it is.”

  “You actually didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Then why does she look ready to cry?”

  “She feels bad for –”

  “That’s not what this is,” I interrupt.

  “Ask her,” he says low. “She’ll tell you.”

  “Fuck,” I groan to the sky.

  “Evander,” he says quietly. “This is real for you, right?”

  “Of course, it is,” I throw up my hands. “If anyone should get that, it’s you.”

  “Okay, but does Taylor know it’s real?”

  “Ye –” I begin to defend then pause. We’ve discussed this, we’re on the same page. Neither will see other people. We’re exclusive. This, I’m certain of. Surely, she’s thinking of the future, too? Is it possible she still doesn’t see us as more than a temporary engagement? Am I the only one in love?

  ‘Cause I love you…

  “Fuck. I said it, didn’t I?”

  “Talk to Taylor, Evander.”

  “I do,” I promise him. “Just so you know, I do.”

  Smiling at me, he claps me on the shoulder and says, “Good.”

  After dinner, I ask her to take a walk with me. She’s clearly hesitant, but agrees. Taking her hand, I lead her away from camp heading toward the woods. It’s still fairly light, out and I don’t plan to go too far. Finally, a safe distance away, I stop her, tilt her chin and do as Scott suggested. I asked her, “What did I do wrong, Taylor?”

  “Nothing,” she says, looking away. “Absolutely nothing, Van.”

  “Then why are you so sad?”

  “How can you think you did anything wrong when you do everything right?”

  “I’m not following.”

  Gripping her hair, she yells, “Fuck!” Facing me, she sighs and rests her head on my chest while clutching my waist. “I’m screwing this up,” she mutters. “It’s what I do. If I don’t do the dumping first, I screw it up. Before you know it, you’ll be day drinking, skipping work, and shopping at the outlet mall.”

  “Tay –”

  “I promised myself I would always be me with you. Except me comes equipped with a juggernaut I can’t control. She’s my defense mechanism, and she’s a part of me, Van. We’ve already hurt you more than once. She won’t stop, I won’t stop. Not until I destroy you and the bitch of it is, I won’t even know I’ve done it.”

  “Listen to me,” I try.

  “Within three hours of hanging out with me,
I’ve talked you into giving a deserving lesbian your pants. You passed out on my couch, and I thought to myself, damn he looks good there. You woke up and said it was the worst night of your life and you were right. You should have listened to your conscience, Van.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” I ask sadly.

  “It’s you who doesn’t get it,” she laughs. “I embarrassed you in front of your peers, had you assist in assault, sucker-punched in a bar fight, then you bailed me out of jail. How do I repay you? By hitting your head on a fucking rock! You can’t see it because you’re probably suffering from internal bleeding, but I’m ruining you!”

  Grabbing her by the shoulders, I scream in her face, “I want to be ruined!” Then shut her up by shoving my tongue down her throat. Instantly the kiss goes from brutal to savage. Ripping each other’s clothes off, I have Taylor up against a tree and am inside her in one thrust.

  “More,” she demands, and I was happy to comply. Only I refuse to do it silently. Taylor needs to know how I feel and telling her while I fuck her guarantees she can’t run.

  “I love you,” I growl into her mouth and suck in her gasp of surprise. “Love you more than any other man ever will. You make me burn, Taylor. You do that,” I vow while fucking her harder. Her nails dig into my shoulders while her heels dig into my ass, only send me higher. “Your smile, your laugh, your fucking cunt gripping me right now. That foul mouth, soft tongue, and possessiveness you have for your friends. Your wild side, your soft side, every goddamn side. I love them all.”

  “What,” she grunts while taking me. “Else?”

  “The way you touch me, soothe me, making me want to be a better man.”

  “Best man I’ve ever known,” she cries out.

  Close to coming, I bite down on her neck, forcing her to come first. “Let go,” I urge her. “And I’ll tell you the rest.”

  Screaming in pleasure, Taylor arches against me, and I feel her come all over me. Sagging against my shoulder, I continued to give her shallow thrusts and relished her whimpers. “I look at you and see my wife,” I whisper. “My future.”

  “Van,” she cries into my neck.

  “I’m begging you, Taylor. I’ll only be content if you utterly ruin me.”