Axe to Grind (Gnarly Pines Duet #1)

Prologue

Blair

It’s dark down here.

Even with the little night-light that Daddy plugged into the wall, the yellow glow doesn’t touch the pitch black.

It’s cold, too. The cement wall that I lean against doesn’t provide any warmth, nor does the dirt beneath my butt.

Daddy left a towel for me to sit on, then wrapped a thin blanket around my shoulders which helps a little. He’s thoughtful like that.

My chest warms as I think of Daddy.

I’m glad he took me away from Uncle Al. When he showed up outside the trailer, I hadn’t been sure I could trust him. Mommy told me, before she died, that I didn’t have a daddy. Turns out she’d been wrong—he just didn’t want to be a dad back then.

Flipping the pages of the gun magazine he’d left for me, I study each weapon and memorize the descriptions beneath them. My finger trails over the sentences and my mouth moves to shape the words without a sound emerging.

I have to be quiet.

Daddy said it’s dangerous if I make too much noise.

Not wanting to disappoint him, I’ve been trying really hard to not move or make a sound.

My stomach doesn’t want to listen, though.

It’s been grumbling for a while now. Almost the entire time Daddy’s been gone.

My eyes jerk away from the words on the page of the magazine toward the backpack sitting beside me.

I’m pretty sure there’s one more granola bar left but I’m not positive about that.

What if I move and make a noise, only to find that I was wrong?

I’ll just wait until Daddy gets back and says it’s safe to make noises again.

It might be a while longer, though.

When we go on these work trips, he leaves me for a long, long time. The first time he left me alone was a few months ago. He’d pushed me into a tight space under a rundown house where spiders and other wiggly bugs and dead animals were. I cried hard and begged him to let me come with him.

“You need to get used to being alone, Blair. In life, isolation is survival. You need to learn how to be your own best friend, alright?” Daddy had told me sternly.

When he came back covered in blood, bruises, and with a Happy Meal in his hand, I realized that maybe being on my own while he works isn’t too bad after all.

Now I’m used to the dark and being on my own is way better than being stuck under the same roof with Uncle Al.

Besides, it’s not like this all the time.

When Daddy’s not working we travel a lot in his van that he calls “home” and he helps me do my online classes.

And when we’re not traveling or doing schoolwork, he’s been playing with me.

We do a lot of running around the national parks and climbing trees.

He likes hide and seek, and recently he’s started taking me camping.

The first time lying under the stars in my sleeping bag is a night I’ll never forget.

Upstairs, there’s a loud crash. The structure of the house rattles. I can feel it through the walls, as slight as the vibrations are.

I jump at the sound, which is loud after going so long without hearing a single thing. The crash is followed by small, sharp bangs. My heart flutters rapidly as fear turns my blood cold. Daddy’s taken me out shooting several times this past year. I’d know the sound of a bullet being fired anywhere.

Even before that trip to the shooting range, I’d heard these noises before.

Whenever Daddy goes on these jobs I hear them.

But they don’t usually come with crashes or…

is that a-a scream? I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around my legs.

The magazine slides off my lap and onto the floor, forgotten as the gunfire continues upstairs.

That doesn’t sound like only Daddy’s gun.

My mouth presses into a tight line to keep all sounds in.

I can’t cry out, can’t whimper. No matter what, I have to be silent.

The crashing continues, the sound of gunfire grows more intense. Something shatters. The wall vibrates against my back as something hits the building. My body wants to tremble and shake with it but I hold myself completely still.

“With me, Blair Bear, you might hear and see things that are scary or uncomfortable but I’ll never let anything bad happen to you, Blair.

Not ever again,” Daddy promised solemnly while we drove away from Uncle Al’s trailer.

“I’ll make sure that one day you’ll be able to take care of yourself.

Until then, you’re safe with me. All you gotta do is follow the rules I give you. ”

I replay his words as I squeeze my eyes shut, keep silent, and wait for him to return.

The ruckus continues for a while. There’s an occasional lull here and there, but they don’t last long.

The chaos above me isn’t normal. At least, what I’ve come to realize as “normal”.

Usually, Daddy’s quiet while he works. Most of the time I’ll hear nothing at all.

Other times, I might hear a gunshot or two, then everything is over. This isn’t like all the other times.

“Whenever you're scared, fight the need to panic,” Daddy told me once. “Fear turns to panic if you don’t squash it, and panic makes you do foolish things—things that will get you killed. So whenever you’re scared, take slow, deep breaths, okay?

In through your nose, out through your mouth.

Focus on your breathing, not what’s causing your fear.

Do it as long as you’re scared until your thoughts aren’t rushing and you're not on the verge of falling apart. A clear head means a chance to see the sunrise. Repeat that back to me, Blair Bear.”

“A clear head means a chance to see the sunrise,” I replied.

“Good girl.”

His words play on repeat now as the commotion on the floor above me continues. Slowly, I inhale through my nose. I break the seal my lips have formed so I can exhale through my mouth. Over and over I do this until my heart stops racing and my body’s need to shake subsides.

“A clear head means a chance to see the sunrise,” I mouth as the fear recedes.

Finally, the commotion upstairs comes to an end. Silence descends over me and I wait. Daddy should be done whatever it is he’s doing now. He’ll come for me. I just have to wait. Time ticks by. The cold feels like it’s intensifying and the basement seems to grow darker.

What’s taking him so long?

The sound of the basement door opening and the sudden flood of light from the top of the stairs causes me to flinch. Relief wells up. It’s over. Soon I’ll be able to get up, eat, and go to the bathroom. My eyes flicker to the staircase that’s lit with the dim light from upstairs.

Come on, Daddy… As much as I want to jump up, I know better than to do that.

“Never assume it’s me coming into the room. You wait until I let you know everything is safe, you hear me?” Daddy explained the fourth time he had taken me on a mission.

“How will I know it’s safe?” I’d asked, confused.

“I’ll give you a codeword.” Daddy had paused to think about what that word would be before he smiled at me and said, “Your favorite dessert is a cinnamon roll, right? That will be the codeword then. If I say ‘cinnamon roll’, you’ll know you’re safe to come out of hiding.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as a shadow looms at the top of the steps.

What I wouldn’t give for a cinnamon roll right now…

My stomach grumbles in agreement. Daddy had warned me to fill up when we’d gone through the drive thru but at the time I hadn’t been hungry.

Next time, I won’t make the same mistake. I’ll eat until my belly hurts.

The shadow is an outline of a man. At first I’m sure it’s Daddy and I smile.

Is he testing me? Is that why he’s not coming down here right now, or why he hasn’t given me the codeword to let me know I’m safe?

Probably. Well, I’ll show him that I’m his good girl.

I won’t give him a reason to regret taking me away from Uncle Al.

As I stare at the shadow, though, I realize that’s not Daddy’s frame.

This person’s shadow is taller than what Daddy’s would be and their shoulders are much wider.

My heart stops. This isn’t Daddy… Immediately, my arm snaps out.

My hand finds the small plug-in light and I yank it out of the socket with a swift tug. The basement goes utterly still.

The person standing at the top of the stairs either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care because there’s no reaction to the sudden absence of light.

Judging by the sound of things, whoever is up there is struggling with something.

There’s grunting and then the word “fuck” is repeated every once in a while.

I cringe against the wall, not sure what exactly I’m supposed to do now. Daddy never told me what to do in case someone found me. I bite the inside of my cheek and wait with baited breath to see what happens.

“What?” someone growls.

There’s a raspy noise that follows. I can’t quite figure out what it is but the stranger at the top of the stairs seems to understand it because he says, “You want me to say what? Why? Fuck, okay, okay calm down!” There’s a heavy sigh before the male voice calls down, “Cinnamon roll…?”

The codeword doesn’t come from my daddy, nor is it said with much confidence. Does this still count? I don’t know. I bite the inside of my cheek and decide not to move. Maybe they’ll go away and Daddy will appear.

That’s not what happens.

The man who uttered the codeword grunts, curses, and then suddenly begins to make his way down the stairs.

Each step is heavy and ominous. I can almost make out that there’s something over the man’s shoulder.

It’s large and shapeless. Is whatever they’re carrying down here causing their steps to be so heavy?

Who is this? Why are they coming down here?

Why are they swearing so much? I curl up tighter and hold my breath. What happens now?

“Light switch… on the wall… to your… right.”

My ears perk up at the sound of Daddy’s voice.