by Melissa Jane
Taking greater care, we conquered the last few boulders and continued the journey through the thick woods.
“You didn’t answer the question,” Mason reminded us of the game.
“I choose truth.”
“I don’t think we could handle giving you a dare. It’s too far to carry your clumsy ass home.” For the typically hostile brother, Mason was considerably more relaxed. More so than I’d ever seen him, especially considering everything that had been happening at home. He almost made it easy to like him. When he was in a sociable mood, it was fun to be in his company. When he snapped, and that fun turned to spite? I couldn’t get far enough away.
“Who was your first kiss?” Lucas, who was still leading up front, asked without turning around.
Despite no one being able to see my face, my cheeks heated. The Carter brothers had never, at any stage, attended the same school as me, so there was a portion of my life they’d never seen, and that included possible boyfriends.
“Pick another question,” I said, keeping my tone light.
“Nah ah,” Mason refused.
“Please.”
Lucas turned for a brief moment to catch my eyes before turning back. “What’s wrong, Gem?”
“Nothing… I just can’t answer that.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Mason baited.
I heaved in frustration. “I can’t answer it because I’ve never kissed anyone.”
Lucas came to an abrupt standstill causing me to collide with his back.
Behind me, Mason laughed.
Inwardly, I cringed.
Lucas turned and gave a small smile. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Gem,” he said quietly, eyes softening, fingers gently touching mine.
“I’m not embarrassed,” I lied.
“Keep that up, and you’ll be sweet sixteen and never been kissed,” Mason continued the jibe, shaking his head in amusement, and by-passing us to take the lead.
“Don’t listen to him,” Lucas assured, loud enough for his brother to hear. He smiled his lop-sided smile I’d always found endearing and wondered for the millionth time what it would be like to kiss those lips. Many times I’d seen Lucas look at me the same way I did him. Like he wanted to close the space between us and take our friendship to that ‘something’ more. But there was always hesitation. I hesitated. He hesitated.
The intensity in Lucas’s eyes tingled my skin. Nervously, my tongue slid over my bottom lip, and my best friend’s eyes followed the movement, his fingers reaching for mine once more. Before they could touch, another pair of eyes watched from over Lucas’s shoulder. Mason’s narrowed, concentrated gaze told a story that turned the pleasurable tingles from only moments ago to something more spine-tingling. Two brothers with the same genes, yet they couldn’t be more different. One looked at me with the kindest, most endearing tenderness, while the other had a heart of malice waiting for the perfect time to hurt me.
A heavy raindrop fell on my eyelash, and I blinked to shake it off. It fell down my cheek like an unwanted tear catching both the brother’s attention. The rhythmic pitter-patter of rain landing on unsuspecting leaves fell around us. We looked above at what had otherwise been a beautiful sunny day. Within only a few passing heartbeats, the tempo increased, and soon the three of us bolted in the direction we were headed, towards a cave at the most western point of the Delaware Forest.
“Come on, Gem,” Lucas yelled over his shoulder reaching for my outstretched hand. Taking his, I used my free hand to shield the raindrops that felt more like sharp blades slicing our skin. The forest canopy grew sparse, exposing us to the violent weather. Like the desperate teens we were, we expertly dodged low hung branches, fallen logs and deep, injury-promising ditches. Mason led the way like the pack leader of a school marathon, bravely navigating the terrain with precision.
Mason was a few yards ahead when without warning, he came to a dead stop. I collided with Lucas’s back, his hands awkwardly reaching behind him to grab my waist and stop me from falling. Now standing side by side, ignorant to the heavy, sharp rain pelting down, the three of us stared at the sight before us.
“I didn’t know this was here,” Lucas said, not breaking his gaze.
“Neither did I,” Mason concurred.
“Who would live all the way out here?” I asked.
“Only one way to find out.” Mason, the risk taker, marched forward until Lucas gripped his forearm.
“You can’t just go in there!”
“Why not?”
“That could be someone’s home.”
Mason laughed, brows arched in disbelief. “Does it look like someone’s home to you?”
We stared ahead silently weighing the options. The old wooden log cabin was run down and by all appearances, looked abandoned. The overgrown vines creeping around the exterior had claimed their ownership. Thick cobwebs were laced over every window frame and awning. And most importantly, there was no sign of life.
“What if someone died in there and nobody found them?” I asked, taking a cautious step back.
“What’s the matter, Gem?” Mason snickered. “Worried the bogeyman might be hiding somewhere inside waiting for you?”
“Well, why would someone leave this place? It’s obvious it was lived in for quite some time. And yes, I may not believe in the bogeyman, but I do believe in ghosts!”
“Hold my hand, I’ll keep you safe,” Mason goaded with a wink. Lucas rolled his eyes, and inwardly I cringed. “Come on, you pussies.”
Sans the hand-holding, we edged closer to the cabin. The boys seemed more at peace with their decision, but my eyes darted nervously around praying for no unwanted surprises.
Mason reached the window first and dusted away the thick grey webs. Pressing his nose against the glass pane, he cupped his eyes and looked for any evidence to suggest the cabin was inhabited. “There’s no one inside,” Mason finally offered.
“They could be out for the day?” I suggested.
Without a second thought, the brothers were at the door twisting the old brass handle. It wasn’t locked, and with the slightest push, it slowly creaked open. We threw a questionable glance at each other before searching the darkness within. The light from the outside barely touched anything, but it was evident the place had been long abandoned. It had possibly been left in this state for years.
A thick layer of dust coated almost every inch of the cabin. A two-seater couch greeted us on entry that could, at one stage, have been a navy-blue color but was now an ash gray. A double bed, messily made, was against the far wall with picture frames above its headboard. A small, make-do kitchenette was to the right with a camp stove perched on the counter. A few other items like pots, pans, cutlery, salt and pepper shakers lay scattered. There was an old, moldy smell to the cabin that could be easily fixed with a good airing out.
“I don’t think anyone is coming back here in a hurry,” Lucas stated, eyes scanning around the room.
“I doubt anyone else knows of this place,” Mason concurred. “Otherwise, it would have been claimed by now.” He pulled a frame off the wall, and a thick sprinkling of dust was dislodged, falling like snow over the bed covers. Wiping the glass with the palm of his hand, Mason studied the photo. “This must be the owner.”
Looking over his shoulders, we studied the old man who had aged before his time. Having lived it rough, he looked like the type to steer clear of mainstream society. The hermit type. He was tall and gangly with leathery skin. The woman standing next to him was short and stout. With a large forehead and small beady eyes, she too looked much older than what she probably was.
“Do you think they’re both…” I couldn’t bring myself to finish.
“Dead?” Mason offered.
“Yes.”
“Long gone, I would say,” he confirmed.
The downpour of rain intensified and we all turned to watch it pelting against the windows.
“I think we’re stuck here for a while,” Lucas admitted. “W
e may not make it to the cave, so we may as well stay here.”
“Agreed,” Mason said, carelessly dropping the frame on the bedside table. When he walked to the kitchen, I returned the photo back to its rightful place on the wall.
“I still feel like we’re doing something wrong.”
“That’s because you never do anything wrong,” Mason quipped while digging through the small pantry cupboards. I took pride in myself by following the rules, but Mason was determined to mock wherever he could.
The brothers dropped their backpacks into the center of the room and continued their rummaging. It was evident nothing I said would change their minds about staying here, and with the weather only intensifying, it didn’t make sense to keep trekking to the cave. Dropping my pack with theirs, I realized this was a case of if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.
~
It took a while to get the fire started. The wood that had been chopped however long ago was slightly damp, and wouldn’t catch straightaway. But the boys weren’t deterred and soon we had the fireplace burning at full force. We all fell into our own duties, having silently proclaimed the cabin as ours. While the brothers bantered back and forth about the fire, I set about dusting the furniture and sweeping the floors. Stripping the sheets off the mattress, I spread out a folded blanket I’d found in the cupboard that had mostly avoided the dust and layered our sleeping bags over the top. After a good hour and a half, the three of us stood back and observed our completely transformed cabin with pride.
“This could be the start of something great!” Mason smiled.
“A home away from home.”
Instead of adding my own sentiments, I turned and watched the brothers closely. My heart broke for them both. I could understand why finding this place had felt like striking gold. It would be the same for anyone whose home life had entered into as much turmoil as theirs had.
Chapter 10
We were all ravenous.
The day’s journey, plus our efforts in getting the cabin prepared, had left us hungry for more than what we’d brought. Four empty spaghetti cans sat on the counter, and half a loaf of bread remained.
“That was delicious,” Lucas smiled while scraping the leftover sauce from the plate with another slice of bread.
“Far from delicious. We were all so hungry I don’t think it would have mattered what we ate,” I said.
“What’s for dessert?” Mason asked, leaning against the sofa and stretching his long legs in front.
“We have my mom’s leftover peach sponge, and there’s a bag of—”
Thud.
Our eyes darted to the door where a quick, yet dull thump sounded. Having received quite the fright, we jumped over the scattered plates and sat facing the front of the cabin. With hearts pounding, and still with the fear of knowing we were trespassing, we watched through the windows for any sign of movement.
“What was—”
Thud
“Arghh!” We all screamed again, as yet another noise, identical to the previous one sounded against the door.
“Wh… what is it?” I asked, my voice shaking.
“I don’t know,” Lucas admitted, somewhat calmer than me. He placed a comforting hand on my arm to ease the shaking.
“I’ll find out.” As Mason rose slowly to his feet, he retrieved something blue and metallic from his shorts pocket. With a flick of his thumb, the switchblade extended, the knife gleaming in the light of the fire.
I swallowed hard at the sight and fought against the uncomfortable realization that Mason had the knife in his possession this entire time. While he’d been showing his good side so far on the trip, he was unpredictable. Him being a loose cannon and carrying a weapon had me nervous.
“I’ll come with you.” Lucas rose to support his brother, and hating to be left alone, I followed close behind. We inched toward the door, a rather ridiculous notion since we couldn’t see outside but whoever, whatever it was, would be able to see us no matter how fast we moved.
“Just… be careful,” I mouthed almost silently, hands balled into fists. “I knew this was a terrible idea.”
Mason was first at the door and stood adjacent to it against the front wall. With his right hand on the handle and his left wielding the knife, he swung the door open and came face to face with nothing but darkness.
“There’s nothing here,” he announced, his bare shoulders now visibly relaxed.
We sighed with relief, and joined Mason, scanning the woods. There was no movement except for the gentle sway of the trees as the breeze traveled through. A bug crawled up my bare leg, and when I bent down to brush it away, I saw the cause behind our scare.
“Look,” I said, moving past the brothers and pointing at the bare garden bed next to the step. “There’s two of them.”
Crouching down and using both hands, I scooped up the first bird and held it for Mason and Lucas to see. Its neck was broken—a result of hitting the door during flight.
“It’s a wren,” Mason observed, his finger stroking through its soft peachy-colored head feathers.
“Wrens are only small, aren’t these two too big to be wrens?”
“Not if they come from Mexico. They’re double, sometimes three times the size,” Lucas chimed in.
“Mexico is a long way from here, and when did you two become experts in bird species?”
“Ninth grade geography,” they declared in unison.
“Well, that still doesn’t explain how Mexican wrens wandered so far north.”
“Weather patterns,” they both offered, again at once.
“Okay, fine,” I said, giving up the fight. “They must’ve been disoriented after the storm.”
“Here.” Lucas carefully took the wren into his own hands and picked the other up. “We’ll bury them in the morning.”
His kind heart always made me smile. His lips twitched in return, his gentle eyes disappearing as the darkness engulfed him.
Beside me, Mason held his knife up to the light, admiring. “Won’t be needing this.” With a wink of an eye, he flicked it closed and casually slid it into his pocket. “Yet.”
~
Warmth radiated from the rock tingling my skin, the blaring sun sitting high in the sky. Shielding my eyes, I listened to Lucas and Mason banter about the best way to catch fish. In the end, Lucas set up his net in the water while Mason sat perched on a boulder with his knife and a piece of driftwood. Both boys were shirtless. Both boys carried similar blackish blue bruises marring their torsos. Mason seemed unfazed, wearing them like they represented his strength in war. Lucas on the other hand, seemed self-conscious and he tried his best to keep his body turned, hiding the worst of it. He’d debated removing his shirt and I understood why.
We had set up for the day by the stream behind the cabin. The night’s heavy rainfall had replenished the banks, and the glistening of fish could be seen as they navigated the boulders.
“Gem,” Lucas called from the other side of the stream. “Are you coming in?”
Sleepily, I replied. “Tell me how cold it is first.”
A cheeky smile crept over his face, and before I could protect myself, Lucas was traipsing through the water and heading my way.
Bolting upright before I became victim to his shenanigans, I put my hand out to plead. “Okay! Okay! I’m coming in.”
Lucas halted in his tracks, mid-thigh deep in water. “That’s my girl.”
Regretfully, I left the comforting warmth of my boulder and rose to my feet. “What’s the hurry?” I complained. “We’re here all day.” Reaching around my back, I unzipped my dress and pulled the spaghetti straps over my shoulders. Mason, who had been preoccupied with his carving, glanced up and watched through his lashes. His jaw was set strong, eyes once again telling a story.
A story I didn’t want to know.
But one I was becoming all too familiar with.
One I had seen just last night.
In the middle of the night with Lucas and me
sharing a bed, Mason on the couch, I woke in need of water. Dust had caught in my throat, and I was plagued with an incessant tickle. I’d sat up in bed and searched for my robe, a chill having fallen over the cabin. Beside me, Lucas breathed heavily, lost in a dream. Silently standing, I let the robe fall over my sleeveless nightie. I’d barely taken my first step when Mason’s rumbling voice stopped me.
“I hope that’s not for my sake?”
I turned, seeing his expectant face illuminated by the glow of the fireplace. He lay stretched out on the couch, one arm hooked under his head, sleeping bag pulled waist high, his muscled chest on display. There was no disguising the salacious tone in his voice or eyes. Swallowing hard, I pulled the robe tighter around my waist and walked to the kitchen counter where my cup and a bottle of water sat.
My history teacher Mrs. Jones had told Joanie once that choosing to ignore would deter her bullies from harassing her. Or perhaps that was just wishful thinking, an easy flippant remark by a teacher too busy to really care.
Pretending Mason wasn’t still watching, I drank in silence, staring out the kitchen window as the tree branches swayed in the wind. The leaves glowed a moonlight silver and glistened from the gentle rain that continued to fall.
I wondered how long Mason had been awake.
I wondered how long he’d been watching me sleep.
Swallowing the last mouthful, I placed the glass on the counter with a slight shake in confidence. Ignoring his watchful gaze, I walked back. With my gown still safely fastened, I crawled into bed, pulling the sleeping bag chin high, palms sweaty with nerves.
“Dick tease,” Mason’s cruelty cut through the silence.
~
The following day, he’s back to being Mr. Innocent. Until now.
The dress slipped down my body, pooling at my feet. Kicking it to the side, I was left standing in my blue bikini. Mason’s lips twitched, his tongue darting out sliding over his bottom lip, the knife twisting idly in his fingers.
