Burned, p.22
BURNED, page 22
Too afraid he’d give it to me and it would be ripped away.
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes while I wandered around, touching the pink walls, the broken-down furniture, kicking at the dead leaves and sticks littering the floor.
“It made you sad today to see your mama. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I shrugged. “I hadn’t seen her in so long. I don’t have any pictures. I forgot how pretty she was.”
“C’mere.”
I walked to him and he lifted me, turned, and set me on an island jutting out from the kitchen wall.
“She ain’t got nothin’ on you,” he whispered, kissing my nose. “Why didn’t you wanna hear her play?”
I shook my head. “Her music hurts. I hear it in my head sometimes. When it’s quiet, no cars, no TV. When I’m alone, I hear her music. It’s like a… a soundtrack to the terror I feel all the time. It used to make me sad. Now, all I feel is anger. This is all her fault. She did this to me. She’s the reason I have no home, no family. The reason I’m scared all the time. The reason my body is ruined. Why I can’t have—” I almost said, “this. I can’t have this.” A home. With him. A life. “I hate her.”
“Can’t have what?” he asked, cocking his head, looking in my eyes.
“Nothing. Let’s go back outside. I feel cooped up. It’s dark in here.”
“Evvie. Can’t have what?”
“Nothing. Just, you know, a normal life.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jack
I wanted to give her that life.
I saw the way she looked around Granny’s house. She longed for it. She yearned for normal and everyday. Safety and a family. A home.
And I wanted what Ma said I deserved. Happiness. Love. I wanted it with Evvie. I wanted her to know me inside and out, and I wanted to be a better man for her.
My own parents had been no example, but I remembered Mr. and Mrs. Mitchum’s love for one another. No two people ever loved each other more. They touched every time they’d been near enough. He’d kiss her deep when he’d come home from workin’ all day over at the bank, and he’d whisper in her ear and nuzzle in her neck, and they’d laugh and laugh. They’d gaze into each other’s eyes sometimes, sayin’ somethin’ to each other I couldn’t ever hear, couldn’t understand.
And the smiles she’d given him? The sun had risen and set in his eyes for her. I remembered thinkin’ the world must’ve felt warm all around her when she smiled like that.
I hadn’t ever wanted to understand it. I’d wanted to reject it ’cause, if I did, no one could ever steal it away from me.
But when I thought of Evvie in my arms, in my bed—in my life—growin’ old with her, I wanted all the things Ma said I could have. I wanted ’em bad.
Includin’ a woman into my life on the ranch had never really occurred to me. I hadn’t ever thought a woman would want to be a part of this kinda life. My life. My mama hadn’t. So hard and dirty, ranch life didn’t agree with most women, and they liked fine things, fancy things. I wouldn’t have the first clue about any of that.
But Evvie didn’t seem to care much about womanly things like hair or clothes and shoes. She didn’t wear makeup. But then, she didn’t need to. I’d never known another woman to compare to her. Her beauty and kindness. Sometimes, I ached to look at her. She had a wildness to her, and it appealed to me in a way I didn’t understand. I saw it in her eyes, her hair, her hands, heard it in her voice, and in the way she moved.
Could she live on the ranch? With me? She said she loved it here. She loved the horses, my brothers. Ma. Could she love me?
’Cause I loved her. And I wanted her. I wanted a life with her.
I couldn’t remember ever wantin’ to trust someone like that.
“C’mon. I wanna show you somethin’ else.” I plopped her down on the floor and took her hand. We made our way back to Sammy and rode out behind Granny’s house, to the meadow beyond.
“This place is so beautiful, Jack. You’re so lucky you got to grow up here,” she said, lookin’ all around. I wrapped my arms around her and rested my chin on top of her head while Sammy plodded along.
“I guess you’re right. We did have a lotta fun when we were kids. There was always some adventure or somethin’ to explore.”
“I can picture you guys as boys running around out here, little cowboys.” She laughed.
“Yeah, or soldiers. Pirates lookin’ for buried treasure.”
“Jack, look at the deer!” She pointed out to the northwest and there, hidden in the high grass, stood a herd of elk.
“Those are elk.” We startled ’em and they took off runnin’, and she gasped, watchin’ ’em leap and race away.
“Beautiful.”
A few minutes later, we arrived at the meadow I wanted Evvie to see. It had been one of my favorite places as a boy, and I remembered hikin’ out there with Granny for picnics. I really missed her. I tried hard to suppress those memories usually but lately found myself lettin’ ’em through. She had been a hard woman, but she’d loved us and showed us all the time.
“Granny used to bring us out here when we were little. I loved this place.” I hopped off Sammy and pulled her down, and we stood there a minute, lookin’ around.
The meadow had to have been created by some kinda god. The blue-black mountains with their white snow caps surrounded us, but down in the valley, the grass grew so green. The trees glowed yellow and orange with their white bark trunks, and little purple and blue flowers popped up everywhere.
But none of it compared to Evvie.
The sun set high in the cool, late October sky, and I was too warm in my sweatshirt, so I pulled it over my head, and when I opened my eyes, Evvie stood in front of me like an angel. She’d taken off her sweatshirt, too, my UC Berkeley hoodie that hung down to her knees, revealin’ a deep blue tank top.
Her hair flowed long and thick, cascadin’ in wide rings and waves down her back, shinin’ in the sun. I couldn’t see her face. She stood with her back to me, but I could see her bare arms and I was overwhelmed with pride. Her burns showed, and she didn’t try to hide ’em like she usually did. Her soul, her wild beauty, it radiated all around us.
“Evvie,” I whispered her name, but the wind carried it away from me.
She turned to me then, and I grabbed my chest. I swore, I’d never seen anything so perfect. The blue from her shirt made her eyes so green and brought out all her Irish freckles. Her cheeks were rosy from the crisp air, and the flush traveled down her neck and onto her chest.
But her eyes darted all around, her face grew wary, and she bit the inside of her lip.
“We’re safe here. Promise.”
“Jack. We’re not safe anywhere.”
“Evvie, look.” I pointed toward the house and waved my arms high in the air. The sun glinted off somethin’ in the distance, probably Dean’s rifle, and my phone rang. I hit speaker.
“I see you,” he said. “Followed you from Granny’s house.”
“Fire a shot.”
Dean put his phone in his pocket. We heard the fabric rustlin’ the speaker, then, ten seconds later, a bullet whizzed nearby and hit a dead tree that had fallen into the meadow. It lay less than twenty feet away from us.
Evvie jumped.
I hung up. “We’re safe.”
She closed her eyes, took a slow, deep breath, released it, then spun in a circle.
I reached out to grab her waist to pull her to me, but she turned and ran away.
“Catch me if you can!” She ran across the field, hair whippin’ in the wind, and disappeared through the trees.
“Oh, you are in so much trouble, woman. When I get my hands on you, I’m gonna put you over my knee!”
“Promise?”
Oh, really? A whole barrage of indecent images flooded my mind, but I blinked ’em away. Listenin’ to where the sound of her voice came from, I took off in the same direction.
When I reached the edge of the trees, I stopped to listen again. Damn, I couldn’t hear anything. I closed my eyes and really listened. I had a hard time concentratin’ ’cause my heart pounded through my ears in anticipation of gettin’ my hands on her, but I could hear the sound of the brook, the water flowin’ and bubblin’ over the stones in it. I heard a couple birds singin’, and then… there, the snap of a twig.
“You ain’t as stealthy as you think.” With my left arm, I snagged her around her waist, but she ducked and twisted and ran back into my meadow, laughin’ all the way. I growled and spun, catchin’ up with her in six big strides, reachin’ out with my hands to grab her, but I tripped on somethin’ and fell face first into the grass, arms up above my head.
“Shit.” I rolled onto my back, groanin’ and spittin’ flowers outta my mouth.
“Oh!” She laughed and came to stand above me. “Poor baby, are you okay?”
“No, I’m injured.”
“What’s wrong, what hurts?”
“My pride, it’s achin’ real bad.” I flashed her my saddest poutin’ face.
“Oh no, not your pride. What will we do without it? Look at that face.” She laughed and shook her head, little waves of her hair dancin’ around her, twistin’ and floatin’ in the lazy breeze and shimmerin’ like strings of gold in the light. “Can I make it better?”
“Yes. Kiss me.”
Kneelin’ beside me in the blue and purple flowers, she touched my arm with just the tips of her fingers, pushin’ the cuff of my T-shirt up to my shoulder, splayin’ her hand open on my bicep. She leaned over to kiss my lips softly, then sat back up, crossin’ her legs like a little girl.
“Look at my hand on your arm. It looks like a child’s.”
I looked down at her hand and back into her eyes. She drew a line with her finger from my arm, up along my carotid artery, over my jaw, to my lips. She pushed my too-long hair away from my eyes and lay down next to me, snugglin’ in close.
My skin soaked up her touch, every stroke of her finger makin’ me greedy for more, and I rolled onto my side, moldin’ my body to hers so there could be no crook or corner of us left bereft.
“Why didn’t you like to be touched?” she asked.
“What?”
“I noticed. When we met, you were really careful with me when you touched me, and sometimes, when I touched you, you’d get tense. Why?”
Of course she’d noticed. I sighed. I didn’t wanna talk about my mama, didn’t wanna ruin the afternoon, but I wanted her to know.
“Until I met you, I never wanted to be touched or to touch anyone. In fact, it was the opposite. Made me uncomfortable. So, when I found myself wantin’ to touch you, wantin’ you to touch me, I wasn’t sure how to. If I should, if you’d want me to. I wanted my hands on you so damn bad, but I didn’t wanna hurt you, be too rough. It felt like all the years of not touchin’ anyone or lettin’ anyone touch me, had built up inside me—filled me up—and with just one look, you unleashed it. It was… intense.”
“You like me touching you?” She dragged her fingers over my ribs and back, under my shirt.
“Like it? No. I crave it, Evvie. Sometimes, it feels like I can’t stop touchin’ you. If my body ain’t connected to yours in some way, it hurts.”
“But why didn’t you want to be touched, Jack? Will you tell me?”
“It ain’t a big deal. My mama left when I was nine. She wasn’t happy with my dad or livin’ on the ranch, or maybe both. I dunno. One day, we woke up and she was gone. Never saw her again. I decided then I wasn’t gonna bother with lovin’ someone. Just didn’t want it. Guess that translated to touchin’.”
“You don’t think that’s a big deal? You were nine years old, and the person who’s supposed to love you the most in the world leaves, just walks away and never looks back? That’s a big deal.”
“Well. Maybe so.”
“Do you ever wonder where she is?”
“No. I hadn’t even thought about it till…”
“Until what?”
“Till you.” Till I fell in love with her, and she made me question every thought I’d ever had. I pulled away to look in her eyes. “Evvie. I won’t let him hurt you.”
She sighed. “I know you think that, but you don’t know him. It’s not me I’m worried about.”
“Evvie—”
“So, tell me about Granny,” she said, tryin’ to change the subject. “What was she like? When she’d bring you here, what did you guys do out here?” She’d had enough sadness and fear to last a lifetime, so I let it go.
“Oh, I dunno.” I propped myself up onto my arm. She lay flat on her back, and I pushed her hair away from her face. “We’d bring lunch. Peanut butter and banana sandwiches and a thermos of cherry Kool-Aid—oh, and celery sticks. Ugh, there’s probably still a pile of ’em over there by the creek. We all hated ’em—and we’d eat and goof off.
“Finn usually got hurt somehow. Broke his arm over there”—I nodded to the south—“tryin’ to climb a tree like a damn orangutan. And Kevin would wander off, followin’ an animal, or lookin’ for rocks or somethin’.”
I laughed. “We were carefree back then. Granny had stories for days, usually ’bout her own brothers, or her mama, and we’d sit and listen to ’em. She loved to make us laugh. She was real good at trickin’ us. She’d tell a story, and throughout the whole thing, we’d be scared or sad, thinkin’ somethin’ bad was gonna happen at the end, but then she’d stop—all dramatic-like—and the next thing outta her mouth had us rollin’ on the ground.” Evvie giggled. “Actually, you remind me of her sometimes.”
“I do?”
“Yeah, ’cause you’re funny. You can be so serious, hoppin’ mad about somethin’, the look on your face so severe, and next thing I know, I’m laughin’. I’ve never laughed so much, not in years, not since I was little, out here with Granny and my brothers.”
She smiled a genuine, whole-body smile. It blinded me, eclipsin’ the sun into shade. “I’m glad I make you laugh, although, I think that might have more to do with you guys laughing at me, not because I’m actually trying to make a joke.”
“I think you might be right, but the other day, when you threatened to shove Finn’s empty plastic water bottles up his ass if he didn’t start recyclin’ ’em, oh my God,” I chuckled, “the sound of your voice, so serious, and the look on his face. I liked to die, I laughed so hard.”
“Yeah, well, he deserved it. He leaves those things everywhere. Have you seen his bedroom? They litter the floor like glitter. Ugh. Why can’t he just fill a glass from the tap and drink that?”
She sighed and grew quiet, twistin’ a lock of hair around her finger.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just, it’s so hard for me not to think about— Usually, it’s all I do. I don’t go anywhere without looking around to find the exits, places to hide.”
“Don’t think about it. Carey and Billie are gonna find this guy. You don’t know him very well, but Carey’s damn good at his job. I guarantee he’s not thinkin’ about anything else.”
“Yeah but—”
“No buts.”
I leaned down to kiss her nose and then her cheeks and lips. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. I kissed her chin and moved down so I could reach her neck.
“Why are you always trying to distract me?”
“It ain’t purposeful. It’s just that you got magnets under your skin, and they pull me to ya. It’s biological. I just can’t help m’self.” I hugged and tickled her a little, but it became somethin’ entirely different so fast. I pulled her harder against my body—so hard I wondered if she could breathe. “He won’t hurt us.”
“Promise?”
“I swear it,” I vowed and released her, climbin’ up on my knees.
The look she gave me, the shy smile with her beautiful eyes, stoked a fire in me.
“Evvie—”
“Dean’s watching.”
I’d forgotten. I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent him a text: Mind your business.
He texted back: 10-4
I knew he wouldn’t watch, and the grass stood tall enough, there wouldn’t be much to see.
“He’ll give us privacy,” I said, pullin’ my T-shirt over my head, then sat back. I’d waited so long to see her body. The burns.
She peeked up at me, then lifted her shirt by the hem slowly, and I watched as she revealed her secrets to me. I glanced at the burns, but I couldn’t take my eyes away from hers. She stared at me. Into me. I saw so much fear and doubt. Hesitation. I thought, in the moment, she was deciding whether she could really trust me or not. Whether she could trust me to love her despite the thing she’d thought would push me away.
And I knew.
I needed to tell her. I wanted to give her my trust so she’d give me hers. I wanted to earn it.
Reachin’ out with my finger and thumb to release the clasp on her bra between her breasts, the white fabric fell away. I leaned in to kiss her and down to kiss the burns, but I stopped, lookin’ back up. “May I?”
She breathed, “Yes.”
“Wait.” I whistled for Sammy and he came lopin’ over. Takin’ a blanket from my pack, I spread it on the ground, then lifted her and laid her on it, pushin’ my sweatshirt under her head.
I removed my boots, jeans, and boxers, then the rest of her clothes, too, and lay beside her. I reached out with my finger toward her arm, to feel the burns for the first time, and she shivered at the first touch of my fingertip. I pulled it away.
“No.” She grabbed my hand, guidin’ it back to her arm, and I watched her throat dip as she swallowed hard. “I want you to touch me everywhere. I’m just not used to it.”
I hadn’t been able to really see her scars yet, not fully—there’d been so much goin’ on—but now I could, and they were… soberin’.
They extended from the middle of her right side, all the way up her body, her waist, movin’ back and forth as they traveled up her rib cage and over her elbow on the back of her upper arm. Her right breast and underarm had been spared, but the scars continued from her arm to surround her entire shoulder, front and back.
