by C. M. Owens
He drops down, his hips stilling, as his forehead presses to mine and he pants for air. My arms slip around his neck, hugging him to me, as he coils his around my waist, holding me tightly.
I don’t know how long we stay like that until he finally pulls back to go clean up.
We don’t say a word.
He turns his back and heads into the bathroom, and I twist on the bed, pulling his sheet over me. My eyes flutter shut, and they don’t open again until I feel the bed dipping.
His arms come around my middle as he slides in behind me, and he pulls my back to his front.
If I was a fool, I’d wish we had slept in the same bed every night. My heart is stupidly falling apart without that added confusion.
My eyes flutter shut again as he kisses the top of my head, seemingly content to hold me to him. I’m too relaxed to move. I don’t want it to end just yet.
As soon as I get up, it’ll all be over.
When my eyes finally open again, it’s because there’s a heavy pounding at the door.
I startle, jolting upright in the bed, feeling his side still a little bit warm, but it’s clear he’s been missing for a bit.
That pounding resumes, and I realize someone is knocking at the front door.
Cursing, I hurriedly pull on my clothes, and I run my fingers through my hair, eyes scanning the house for him.
I’m a little surprised to find Reese on the front porch, giving me a tight smile.
“Sorry. Kai came to help me load the luggage and lock down the cabin for the rest of winter. He said you were here, and we can’t wait any longer or we’ll risk missing our flight. You can stay if you—”
She stops talking when I turn and walk over to the small table next to the door. Or maybe I simply stop hearing what she’s saying.
There’s a yellow flag with a dead raccoon on it. It’s the flag the Wilders are supposed to fly when they’re at home, even though Kai never does that. It’s a Wild Ones rule, and he doesn’t really play by many rules.
He only does it on occasion when it’s convenient.
I lift the piece of paper on it, my eyes scanning it as I read.
Take a piece of Tomahawk with you.
—Kai
A few more tears leak out of my eyes, and I take a steadying breath as I clutch the flag to me.
When I turn back around, Reese is giving me a soft, sad look.
“I think I should go. He was right. It really did muddy the waters even more,” I tell her, stepping past her.
“What does that mean?” she asks as she follows.
I shake my head as more and more tears start to fall, and the heaviness continues to settle harder on my chest.
I guess it’s better that he’s not here. I don’t think I could say goodbye a third time, since the first two have left me numb and cold as we pull away and leave Tomahawk. The small town that stole our hearts and unintentionally broke them.
Wild Ones Tip #420
Weed was put on earth for a fucking reason. Life’s a bitch sometimes.
Chapter 20
KAI
*******
“Fuck’s sake. You boys can’t stay stoned out of your minds forever,” Bill snaps.
I pause sharpening the axe head long enough to stare at him.
Killian makes a throat-slashing gesture while simultaneously shaking his head, signaling for Bill to drop it.
Bill, wise man that he is, sighs in defeat and takes the blunt from the table in front of us.
Hale throws his axe, and it stabs the wooden target so hard that it splits it.
I return my attention to sharpening the blade to a razor’s edge.
“There’s still a good chance they could come back,” Bill says, trying a different angle.
At my cold glare, he clears his throat and whistles innocently.
“Don’t say things like that so flippantly,” I warn him, returning my attention to the blade.
Hale throws the next axe so hard that it breaks the fresh target, and the axe flops onto the ground.
“What are you three doing all the way the hell out here?” Bill asks as he coughs around the blunt.
“Don’t try to hang with the cool kids, Uncle Bill. You’re not cut out for it,” Killian says as I swipe the blunt away from the fucker and puff it while continuing my sharpening.
Bill pats his chest, still coughing a little, as I stand to throw my first axe.
I nail my first target so hard that it splits wide open and sends a spray of splinters into the air.
Killian thumbs the stack of targets he helped us make.
“Axe throwing is an excellent way of blowing off steam when you’re frustrated over a woman,” he explains.
“Shit. At this rate, those two are going to give you a run for your money at the next festival,” Bill says with wide eyes.
Killian shrugs.
“Well, I guess not. You’ll stay perpetually frustrated over a woman if you don’t ever open your mouth to tell her how you feel,” Bill adds dryly, cutting a pointed look at Killian.
Killian gives him a flat look in response. “Why are we discussing me right now?”
“You look less murderous than the other two and seemed like the safest option,” Bill answers very unapologetically.
“Their women left nine days ago. They’d only just be leaving if they hadn’t both dumped them early,” Killian points out, gesturing between the two of us.
An axe hurdles through the air about a foot from his head and stabs the tree. Killian swallows the rest of what he was going to say when I pick up the next axe.
“Nice weather we’re having today, huh?” he asks with a straight face.
“Why the hell are you discussing the weather so suddenly?” Bill asks with genuine confusion.
“Because I don’t trust a Wilder with an axe,” Killian explains as he rolls his eyes.
I hurl the next one at a target, splitting it down the middle. Hale gets caught up in randomly hacking at a tree with his axe.
“Land’s sake. You boys aren’t cut out for love if this is how you treat it,” Bill grumbles.
Hale stalks off, and Bill gets up to go after him, but Killian stops him by sticking his leg out and blocking his path.
“Let him go right now. He didn’t realize how far in over his head he was until it was too late,” he says more seriously to Bill.
Bill sighs and sags back to a chair.
“I figured this was going to end bad, but I knew better than to meddle and offer unsolicited advice,” Bill groans.
I throw the next axe.
“If this is what you two look like after a week, I’m glad I didn’t see those first few days,” he adds, muttering the words just loud enough for me to hear.
I grip the axe a little tighter.
“The next axe is going to land between your legs. It won’t cut anything, so long as I’m accurate with the throw,” I warn him.
“I think your weed is defective, because that’s a lot of anger for a guy who should be blitzed on the mellow fellow,” Bill deadpans.
I cut a glare toward him, and he gives me a small smile.
“We face shit instead of running from it around here. It’s not healthy to spend all your time smoking your product, living out in the deepest part of your woods to avoid everyone, and busting up targets like it’s your sole purpose in life…nine days later.”
Just as I turn to make good on my threat, Benson emerges from the woods, cursing a set of thorns that are tearing at his jeans.
“Cougar is in a foul mood today,” he gripes as he comes and sits down like he’s been extended an invitation.
Killian clears his throat and looks around, and my eyes narrow in suspicion.
“If this is the start of an intervention, I’ll save you some trouble. I’m going to spend however long it takes working her out of my system, and I’m going to do that however I see fit. Whether I’m throwing axes at targets way the hell out here or at your homes depends on
what you say next.”
I gesture between all three of them, and then I launch the axe at the next target, effectively destroying it.
“I think I’ll just listen in,” Benson states.
I thought not having sex would magically make this all a little fucking easier. Instead, all I can think about is all the time we wasted when we weren’t together.
If the distance I tried to put between us didn’t help me at fucking all in the end, then what was the point in wasting a single second?
Then again, I’ve never seen Hale Vincent as fucked up as he is right now.
“What happened between Hale and Reese?” I ask, even though I shouldn’t.
He and I had a silent understanding that we wouldn’t discuss it. In fact, I don’t think we’ve said much of anything at all. Today’s the most I’ve had to speak since I left Piper asleep in my bed, and walked away while I had the strength left to do it.
It really shouldn’t have been that fucking hard to do.
Something cracking and snapping has me looking over my shoulder as Liam and Jared Malone come to join the damn gathering.
I glare over at Killian.
“This was more for Hale’s benefit than yours. I know better than to fuck with you when you’re brooding, but Hale’s gotta snap out of it at some point,” he explains.
We’ve been out here for nine days, camping in the hunting shack on the back half of the property, and living off the land.
I don’t see what the big deal is.
Liam takes a seat on a log, and he glances around at the campsite.
“I thought I had it rough when Kylie left, but I think this tops even that.”
“Kylie wasn’t a fancy girl, and you didn’t have to contend with an ungodly wealthy family, who is in the running for a senate seat,” Killian tells him. “Hale’s not exactly been groomed for the blue blood elite. He can’t go after Reese, and even if he could manage to fit into that world, he didn’t end things in the best way. I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t speak to him again even if he tried.”
Benson scrubs a hand over his face, and I take a seat. If they’re discussing Hale instead of me, I won’t feel so murderous.
“What’d that boy do?” Bill asks in a way that suggests he’s scared to know the answer.
“Let his emotions get the best of him, and broke it off a few seconds before he dropped her off at the door. Then refused to speak about it anymore than that, and even ignored her when she tried to talk to him. To be fair, this is his first real breakup, excluding the junior high relationship that never got past hand-holding,” Killian points out.
“I’m not so sure Hale’s gonna want this personal information exposed,” Liam points out.
“In this case, it needs to be known. First girlfriend. First breakup. First…a lot of things. I can’t handle this all on my own,” Killian says on a tired breath. “Especially not if misery loves company and Kai is perfectly happy with being miserable out here for an indefinite amount of time. Hale could end up turning wild man and never coming back to town.”
“That’s a melodramatic conclusion to immediately jump to, don’t you think?” I ask bitterly.
“Does Reese know she was his first?” Benson asks as though that’s an important fact.
“Doubtful. It’s not as if Hale was going to volunteer that information, and I think she found it endearing that he wasn’t all that experienced, so it’s not like he lost points in the sack,” Killian goes on.
“You still a virgin?” Bill asks him, pursing his lips. “Are you saving yourself for the day Nila stops being as oblivious as the rest of the Wilders?”
I think I just threw up in my mouth.
“Why are we discussing me again?” Killian asks as he glares at his uncle.
Benson lifts the blunt from my hand and steals my lighter, as I sit back, listening to Bill and Killian argue for a moment. For whatever reason, I appreciate the distraction.
“I follow their social media page. They’re in France right now for some fashion thing,” Liam says to me as Benson passes the blunt to him.
France…
Yeah, Hale and I don’t stand a chance going after them. I already looked up their family. Even if I pulled every dime out of the bank that I’ve been saving up for years, I couldn’t contend for longer than a year.
Not to mention the fact that they’re always in the public eye. I doubt I’d be a good reflection on the family image that’s already under heavy fire.
What the hell would she do here? Help me tend the crops and end up pregnant? Fashion shows in Paris? How do I even begin to compete?
It’s simple: I can’t.
Standing, I grab an axe from the ground, and heave it hard enough to break the next target.
“Vick asked them not to mention Tomahawk since he learned they were somewhat celebrities,” Liam goes on. “They’re keeping this place a secret instead of showing it off because they respect the town’s need for privacy. They didn’t leave too upset.”
My head drops back, and I close my eyes, wishing they’d all just go so I could go back to enjoying the peace and quiet.
“Learn when to stop talking,” I tell him as I throw the next axe wide and miss the target completely.
The axe hits the ground, slinging up snow and dirt as it tumbles through the woods.
“They’ll be in London next week for a different show. They hit Italy after that. They won’t be stateside again for at least three weeks in total,” the son of a bitch says, not taking the hint. “They’re in the process of launching a site for independent fashion designers to post their clothes, and they’re highlighting the ones they think will trend best. Seems like they can run that business from anywhere.”
I dart a look over at him, ready to cut him down, but he shrugs a shoulder.
“Just sayin’, if they were here, no one would have to compete with that lifestyle.”
I snort derisively. “I’m sure Tomahawk is the ideal location for a fashion junkie. Between the flannel and the Timberlands is where we keep all our couture.”
He smirks, glancing down.
“Speaking as someone who traded couture for flannel and Timberlands, it doesn’t sound so far-fetched,” he says quietly. “It’s hard to surround yourself with people who’ve been genuine, and return to a world where people pick apart the surface, never seeing anything underneath those top two layers. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to suggest for you to give her a call and see how she’s doing.”
He holds up his phone and wiggles it.
“I got her number before she left. Yes, Kylie knows, and she knows why I got it, so don’t even try to get me in trouble. And quit staring at me like you’re going to remove my balls with your next axe,” he tells me, wiggling the phone again.
I really don’t like him having her number.
I snatch the phone out of his hand, and I pull up his contacts, finding her name.
“I doubt you’ll get reception all the way out here,” Liam tells me like I’m an idiot who wouldn’t know even that much.
I refuse to tell him I already knew most of that because I already got my own phone, created a motherfucking Instagram account, so I could follow just one fucking person. There’s a spot over the ridge that gets just enough signal to let me view it.
I’d never hear the end of it, and everyone would forever give me hell. I even made up a name just so I wouldn’t be found out.
I delete her contact information from his phone. I already got her number out of Ma’s emergency phone.
Tossing his phone back to him, I pick up another axe, ignoring his frown.
“You do know that even if I wasn’t a lost cause thanks to Kylie Malone that I still wouldn’t even consider hitting on your girl, right?” he asks me, sounding slightly nervous.
“I don’t particularly have any control over the way I feel right now. Jealousy is a new thing I’m still coping with. Deal with it,” I grind out as I hurl the next axe.
It
misses wide left, stabs into a narrow, dead tree that starts cracking after it hits it just right and splits a huge chunk out of it.
“Duly noted,” Liam answers.
They all stay quiet for a while as I continue working out some of my frustration. Cougar lies down on the blanket I have lying on top of one of the tarps, getting ready for her evening nap.
“This reminds me of the time Lilah and Benson split up,” Bill suddenly interjects.
“Why are we talking about me?” Benson asks as he lifts his hands. “And how is this anything like I did?”
“Yeah, there was a boat, a twin, and a water cannon in his scenario,” Killian adds.
“I’m talking about Lilah. That was her first time falling in love, and she didn’t realize she was even in love,” Bill says with a fond smile.
Benson’s lips twitch, and he sits back like he no longer minds the topic of conversation.
“This isn’t cheering me up at all. He had it easy. Lilah was impressed with that pathetic excuse for showing out,” I point out. “I’m competing with an entire lifestyle.”
“At least you don’t deny you’re in love,” Bill chirps like this is a good thing. His smile falls. “Unlike Hale.”
I look away, clearing my throat as I tighten my grip on the next axe.
“Takes a man to admit when he’s blindsided by something he thought he could easily thwart by taking a few precautions. Love doesn’t let you hold back, even when you try to. Sometimes you think you’re holding back, when you’re really giving more of yourself than you meant to.”
“Could you not be a philosophical romantic right now?” I ask as I glare over at him. “I’m not wired that way, Bill. Drop it.”
He keeps his eyes trained on me, lips thinning.
“You grew up fast. As the oldest, you became the man of the house at a young age,” he goes on, definitely crossing one of my boundaries. “It’d be a shame to see you miss out on something good just because you’re oblivious to how rare that something good is.”
“If it has you bent out of shape, then it’s probably something you’re not going to get over very easily,” Killian tells me.
