Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Ethan’s hands cover his face as Jack rains down another three blows. His flesh sinks around the toe of my work boot as I give him enough kicks to make him ever regret threatening to rape Skye.
“We should get rid of him,” I say, tugging Jack’s shoulder. He spins to face me, his eyes questioning. I didn’t mean to kill him, but I can see just a flicker of the thought in Jack’s eyes. “Throw him in the truck and dump his ass off in town.”
“Good idea. Take his other arm.”
Jack grabs Ethan beneath his left arm, and I take the right. He’s a dead weight, and his head lolls in a weird, uncomfortable looking way. Jack didn’t even hit him that hard, but the alcohol has him all fucked up. At the truck, Jack drops the back, and we shove him onto the flatbed on his back.
“I’ll take him,” Jack says. “Stay here with Finn and Skye.”
I don’t need him to clean up my mess, but I appreciate it. “Take the back roads. And dump him somewhere just outside town. Call Aiden or Caleb to pick him up. Explain what happened.”
“No one is going to blame you, West.” Jack slams the back of the truck, and Ethan groans. “They all know it could have happened to anyone. Ethan’s becoming unreasonable.”
Most lumberjacks are. If we were socially capable, we wouldn’t choose to live in isolation.
“Just be careful,” I tell him.
“Take Skye inside. Tell her enough that she won’t worry. That girl has enough going on.”
It’s the first time I’ve heard Jack say anything remotely kind about Skye, but he’s already stomping around the side of the truck and climbing in the driver’s seat.
I watch as he disappears down the winding road from our property before I make my way back to the studio.
Finn’s still waiting in the doorway, a shield between Skye and trouble.
“Let’s get her inside.”
He nods, and the way he looks at me, filled with pity, makes me want to scratch at my own skin.
Turning, he reaches for Skye’s hand. She stares out into the darkness with wide eyes. “Ethan’s gone, Skye. Jack’s taking him far away. Let’s go back to the lodge. She follows where Finn leads, her feet scuttling to keep up.
I follow close behind, unsure if my presence is reassuring or daunting.
Fuck. I can’t stand to see her scared. Doesn’t she realize we’ll keep her safe, even if it costs us our lives? That’s the kind of men we are. All of us.
I shut the door behind us and lock it, hoping the sound of metal on metal will make Skye feel more secure. Finn leads her to the couch and sits her down next to him. He throws his arm around her shoulder and pulls her against his chest, and she goes willingly, pressing her face into his dusty shirt.
I sit across from them in my favorite leather chair, letting my legs fall open, and my hands rest in my lap. My eyes meet Finn’s, and he opens his eyes slightly, as though he’s urging me to say something.
There are two things on my mind.
The things Ethan said and their impact on Skye, but also her terrified response to the sound of rustling before we even knew it was Ethan. Her reaction was extreme and way outside what I would expect from someone who wasn’t running and hiding from someone or something.
“Ethan said some fucked up things, but he was drunk.”
Skye’s hand grips at Finn’s shirt. She heard me but she’s still scared.
“It’s nothing to do with you, okay? He’s angry with me, and he found a way to hit me where it hurts.”
She turns her head slightly, her eyes focusing on mine, questioning.
“He knew coming here and talking about you would make me angry.”
“Why?” she says.
“Because I don’t accept anyone talking about someone…” I pause as I stumble over how to articulate what she is to me. Someone I own? That sounds fucked up, and she’s more than that. Someone I care about? Care seems like a pathetic word, and Skye’s only been here five minutes, but her sweetness and vulnerability have already found their way inside me, cracking resolve. “Someone I have a responsibility for,” I finish.
She blinks, then stares at the floor.
“We’ve given him a warning. He won’t be coming back.”
“I’ll be here alone.”
“And he’ll be at work.”
Finn’s expression shows his worry, but Skye doesn’t see it. I have to ensure my own face remains impassive. “He’s angry with me, Skye.”
“Why?”
I don’t want to tell her the reason. I don’t want to open up that old wound for it to bleed out all over her, but I will so she’ll understand. “Because I was responsible for his brother’s death.”
“It was an accident,” Finn quickly interjects.
Skye’s eyes never leave mine, and it feels like she’s peeling up my skin and peering underneath for the truth at the heart of me. It’s time to turn this around.