To Love A Monster

by Marina Simcoe

  Here, at the cemetery, the permanence of death felt more acute. And all the misunderstandings of the living—including the ones between myself and the man in the woods—seemed fleeting and insignificant in the face of the final infinity we all ultimately faced.

  Without even knowing it, my mother helped me in my decision.

  ‘I hope you have no regrets with the life you’ve lived.’

  If I didn’t at least try to find my way back to the man I’d fallen in love with, I knew it would become the biggest regret in my life.

  Chapter 43

  MY HEART BEAT FRANTICALLY in my chest as I drove up to the house.

  I’d told myself I needed to check on him, to make sure he was doing well being here on his own, but I wasn’t sure what to expect. Neither was I clear what exactly it was that I hoped for, coming back here.

  My memories kept alternating between the loving, caring Monster I lived with for months and the cold-blooded monster who hurt me years ago.

  Thinking back, I’d caught the glimpses of the angry beast inside him many times. I’d witnessed the battle that raged in him, bubbling up to the surface every now and then. I knew of the struggle he led.

  I wasn’t sure whether there was any hope for us to put our past behind us or if there even still could be an us.

  What I did know was that I had run from him in hurt and disappointment. Too much passion and too many emotions were coursing between us when I confronted him—he never got a chance to explain or apologize.

  If the pain I’d glimpsed in him was real, he had his own demons to exorcise, and I was coming back ready to listen this time.

  I KNEW SOMETHING WAS wrong the moment I entered the house through the garage.

  It was cold inside. Freezing cold. I knew that the power was still on—the garage opener worked for me without a problem. Then I noticed that the front entrance door had been left wide open. The biting wind blew in, leaving white drifts of snow all through the main floor.

  A large armchair had been thrown across the room and was now lying on its side, the new upholstery slashed with the foam underneath sticking through. One of the heavy barstools was also upturned.

  Something happened here. Something bad enough to drive Monster away from the house? The few paw prints in the snow on the floor were all too small to be his and weren’t that fresh.

  I’d heard people at the airport talk about the weather—it hadn’t snowed here for at least a week. He hadn’t been inside since then. Where was he?

  Was he okay?

  My heart dropped and icy fingers of fear gripped my throat.

  I did a quick search through the house, calling his name—Monster’s name—then ran back in the garage.

  A list of possible reasons for his absence ran through my brain. None of them comforting.

  Did the cougar attack him again? Had a pack of wolves come into his territory while I was gone, looking for a meal? A bear?

  Or, worst of all—people?

  It was April. The busy part of the hunting season had long ended. The next one wouldn’t start until August. So, if people found out about Monster’s existence, they most likely wouldn’t be hunters trespassing in their pursuit of prey, but someone with possibly more sinister motives.

  Worry had sent my mind into a tailspin, coming up with horrible scenarios. And I stopped in my tracks for a moment, my fist pressed to my chest, counting my breaths. With no real evidence of anything terrible happening to him, I needed to think more rationally.

  I’ll search for him outside.

  I hesitated at the door.

  The cougar.

  The thought prompted me to grab an axe. Then my gaze fell on the locked rifle cabinet standing next to the tool bench.

  Quickly, I found the key from the drawer in the tool chest—where I remembered Monster put it when he showed me how to shoot the rifle a few times—and a cardboard box of ammunition.

  With the loaded gun in my hands, I ran outside.

  I couldn't distinguish the paw prints in the packed snow around the porch and didn’t know for sure if any of them were his.

  Taking his most frequently travelled route, I walked through the passage between the rose bushes east of the house then along the path to the river.

  Holding the rifle in front of me, I searched the surrounding forest for his shape, hoping I’d see him running through the woods to me at any moment.

  The powerful blow to my shoulder from behind was so sudden it shocked a gasp from me and threw me to the ground, knocking the rifle out of my hands.

  My face pressed into the packed snow, I couldn’t see, breathe or scream. The impact with the frozen path knocked the air out of my lungs.

  A heavy weight settled on my back and pressure pinned my neck through my thick scarf. Something sharp tore through my jacket, with a loud ripping noise.

  Then a wild, thunderous roar shook through the woods.

  The crushing weight on top of me was gone the very next moment. Coughing and spitting dirt out of my mouth, I sat up and blindly patted the ground in search of my rifle.

  Blinking the snow out of my eyes, I twisted around, taking stock of the situation.

  Two large shapes tangled into a mass of russet and orange fur, fighting each other. Monster and cougar. They rolled on the ground between the trees just a few feet away from me, leaving a bright red trail of blood behind them.

  I spotted my rifle about ten feet away in the other direction, jumped to my feet, and dashed for it.

  Pointing the gun at the beasts in front of me, I realized it was impossible to shoot one without risk of hitting the other—their bodies were so tightly intertwined.

  Monster rolled on the ground, his claws deep in the cougar’s shoulder. Its fangs dug into Monster’s neck, sinking deeper and deeper in search of the vital artery with every motion. The feline’s hind paws shredded the fur, skin and muscle on Monster’s side, almost in the same place where the scars of its last attack had just healed a few months earlier.

  It seemed the cougar got lucky this time by getting a better hold of Monster’s neck. The thick mane filled its mouth, preventing the cougar from tearing Monster’s artery out at once, but it was Monster’s blood painting the snow red around them.

  The sight of so much blood filled me with fear for his life. A new kind of fear. Not the one that used to paralyze me with terror, but the one that ignited me with anger instead, spurring me into action.

  “Get off him!” I yelled on the top of my lungs—wild with rage—and stormed through the snow over to the beasts locked in a deadly embrace.

  Monster sank to his side with the cougar on his shoulder, its teeth locked in his neck. His clawed feet plowed deep trenches through the snow, ice, and frozen dirt, as his strength slowly flowed in crimson streams out of him through the long slashes on his side and back.

  Still concerned about firing the rifle when the two were so close together, I grabbed the heavy gun by the barrel with both hands instead and swung it, aiming for the cougar’s head.

  With a thud, the wooden stock of the rifle slammed into its skull. Its body went limp, and Monster shoved it off him.

  Not taking any chances, I flipped the rifle in my hands and fired a single shot in the cougar’s head. Point-blank.

  “I told you, get off!” I yelled at the dead body, vibrating with adrenaline, before flinging the rifle aside.

  Hands shaking, I sank to my knees at Monster’s side. The nauseating smell of blood hit my nostrils, and I swallowed hard closing my eyes for a second to regain my composure.

  “You’re here.”

  My eyes flew open at his voice.

  “I am.” I leaned over him.

  “Did he hurt you?” His gaze searched my face.

  I evaded it, forcing myself to focus on his wounds.

  “No. I’m fine. You got here in time.” I needed to confirm where all this blood was coming from. “Now, be quiet, I need to assess your injuries.”

  Parting his man
e with my fingers, I inspected his neck carefully. The puncture wounds there were small but deep. Blood filled them, but it didn’t gush out in a spray.

  “He didn’t get any major arteries,” I muttered under my breath, silently sending thanks to every deity out there.

  Still, Monster’s shoulder, his side, and his back—everything that came in contact with the cougar’s sharp teeth and claws—were one big bloody mess of mangled fur, muscle, and skin. He was losing a distressing amount of blood, and I had to stop it as soon as possible.

  “I’ll need to clean these and stitch what I can,” I mumbled to myself, going through the details in my head while trying to recall whatever I could from my medical studies. “First, we need to get you back to the house.”

  Seemingly unconcerned about his condition, he lifted his hand to my face. His eyes on me, he gently traced a line from my temple to the edge of my jaw then stroked my hair carefully.

  His touch was so light—barely there—as if he was afraid I’d disappear on contact.

  “You’re back.” Disbelief coloured his voice.

  “I am.” I heaved a sigh then grabbed his hand with both of mine and buried my face in it.

  The coppery smell of blood tainted his usual scent, and I felt my throat tighten.

  “I’ll take care of you,” I promised.

  Chapter 44

  THE LOSS OF BLOOD WAS too much for him—he fainted as soon as he sat up. Quickly, I ran back to the house and drove the ATV up the path to the spot where he lay.

  “Come on.” I patted his cheek gently. “Please, help me get you back home.”

  He stirred, and I threw his arm over my shoulders to support him on his good side.

  “Slowly this time.” My legs shaking with strain, I helped him to his feet and took a large part of his weight on me as we made the few steps to the ATV.

  Back at the house, I led him to the couch where he collapsed with a low moan. Then I kicked the snow away from the front door to close it. With the heat on, the temperature inside would rise soon enough.

  I filled a large, metal bowl with warm water then ran to the main bathroom and fetched my oversized first-aid kit, grateful that I had stocked it with additional items bought through Jo.

  Always paranoid about Monster’s lack of access to proper medical care, I had made sure to have as many supplies and equipment on hand as possible for a worst case scenario.

  Monster lay on his side now as I stood over him with the first-aid kit in my hands, staring at his gruesome wounds.

  Where does one even begin to treat something like this?

  I sat the kit on the floor next to the bowl with water and carefully unbuttoned his jeans. The waistband was slashed in several places, and I needed a better access to those cuts on his skin. Gently, I rolled the top of his jeans down as far as I could without disturbing him too much, still he groaned. The adrenaline must have been wearing off.

  “How many pills have you taken today already?”

  He lifted his hand with four fingers up.

  I gave him a large glass of water with a couple of more painkillers then set to work.

  Fighting the sickening feeling of worry swimming in my stomach, I washed the blood off his wounds then trimmed and shaved the fur around them the best I could.

  The bleeding had slowed, but the cuts were deep, the skin jagged around the edges on some and hanging in loose ribbons in places.

  He definitely needed stitches.

  I got the surgical needle and thread ready and inhaled deeply.

  “I’ll have to sew you up.” I tried to keep my voice light, pretending I was encouraging him, not both of us, but he knew me too well.

  “You can do it, Sophie,” he rasped, managing a smile. “Haven’t you just bashed in the head of my arch-nemesis?”

  Holding the needle at his skin, I paused, trying to calm my racing heart and still my shaking hands.

  “I should give you something to bite into,” I croaked.

  “To shut me up?”

  How could he still be joking?

  “No, so that you don’t bite you tongue or break you teeth.” I glanced up at him in the silent question.

  “Nope. Chances are I’d break anything you give me. Go ahead.”

  Still, I hesitated. His wounds were gruesome and—I was afraid—well above my level of expertise of a medical school dropout. I was sick with worry that I’d cause more harm than good.

  But he has no one else here to help him!

  “Remember how angry you were with me?” Monster misunderstood the reasons of my hesitation.

  “Still am,” I bit out.

  “Hold on to that thought. It should help you stab me with the needle.”

  I shook my head with a sigh as more worries rushed my mind. What else would he need? Was there a chance the cougar had rabies? How about other possible diseases?

  “When was your last tetanus shot?”

  “Do you think I remember?”

  What if there was an infection? He’d need antibiotics.

  I dropped the hand holding the needle in my lap.

  “I’ll need to get you professional help,” I resigned. “Someone who is more qualified to deal with this.”

  “Like a vet?” He gave me a crooked smile, but I caught him flinch in pain on an inhale.

  “Don’t try to be funny,” I chided. “You need your energy for other things.”

  “I always have the energy for other things,” he rasped, cupping my knee.

  I twitched from the unexpected gesture.

  “You’re incorrigible,” I whispered, the warmth of his palm through the fabric of my jeans made my voice breathy. When he touched me like this, he was my Monster once again, no one else. And his touch held power over me.

  “Fuck, I missed you,” he groaned. “So much it hurts.”

  I removed his hand gently.

  “You’ve been mauled by a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound cougar. That’s what hurts.”

  “Wrong. He was barely two twenty.” His tone was flat.

  I rolled my shoulder, remembering the heavy weight pinning me to the icy forest floor. I still couldn’t believe I shot and killed an animal, even if in self-defence. The most incredible part was—I didn’t regret it. The cougar threatened Monster’s life. It had to die.

  “I’ll have to drive to town quickly.” I started bandaging his wounds.

  I could make it to Rocky River in time to Jo’s shift end. Provided no emergency required her attention at the nursing station after hours, I could bring her here tonight. “I’ll cover all of it here for now, but you’ll need a lot more than I can do—”

  “Sophie.” He halted my hand in the air, his expression pensive. “What were you doing walking in the woods alone?”

  Obviously, it wasn’t possible infection and rabies shots that occupied his mind right now.

  “I had a gun,” I replied.

  “Where were you going with that gun, princess?”

  His nickname for me, spoken softly like that, caressed my ear.

  “To rescue you,” I confessed with a sigh then rushed to explain. “The house was cold and empty, the door open, snow on the floor . . . I had no idea where you were.”

  “In the river. Swimming. It didn’t take me that long to get here after I’d sensed you.”

  “It felt like forever. I was worried something had happened. The house seemed deserted, and the front door looked like it had been left open for a while—”

  “Since you left,” he confirmed. “You left it open. Somehow in my madness after you were gone, I believed that if I closed it, it would mean you’d never come back. And I couldn’t stay at the house, either. There is so much of you in here. I could feel you in everything around me, but I couldn’t touch you. It was pure torture.”

  His hand found mine and squeezed it as if needing the affirmation that I was physically here.

  “I followed you all the way to the end of the fence.” He said softly. “It was like you had
tied a rope around my neck, and I started to suffocate the further away you drove. And then . . .” He frowned. “Then it was just blind fury.”

  He spoke with visible difficulty, breathing around the physical pain that must be tearing at his side with every inhale. Yet I didn’t stop him. It seemed the pain that urged him to speak was deeper and had been torturing him much longer.

  “You see, my appearance has only changed once, but inside the man and the beast are always at war. When you left, I had no idea what to do with myself. The beast took over, and I let him. Once again I was mad at the world. I was angry at you, too—for waking the man in me, for letting me feel human pain again, for making me love you and then leaving me, knowing I couldn’t follow you. I couldn’t go and bring you back. I wanted to crush everything inside the house, annihilate whatever you’d touched to exorcise your presence from here. But you weren’t in the house or in those things. You’re so deep inside me—I’d have to rip my own heart out to get rid of you. The hurt of having lost you burned like hot iron through me, no matter what I did. You had become my entire world, my reason for living. I had no idea how to go on without you.”

  He shifted, adjusting his injured shoulder, and slowly drew in a breath through his clenched teeth.

  “The real agony came from knowing that the only person responsible for all of this was me. I had no one but myself to blame for your leaving. You didn’t owe anything to Hunter Reed, the monster and the liar. But you’ve done something to me. You made me want to be the best man I could be. And I didn’t want to let go of that man, even after you left. No matter how I look on the outside, Sophie, I don’t want to go back to being a monster inside.

  “I knew it was wrong to continue hiding from you, but I had no idea how to come clean without losing you. Ever. I convinced myself that as long as you were happy, everything was justified. Still, I should’ve found a way to tell you who I am. I’m sorry I didn’t.”