Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“This is not working,” I mutter, feeling frustration well up inside of me. Caleb’s truck is ancient, and the stick shift keeps catching. It has nothing to do with my skill. I am very good with long, hard things, I assure you.
I wince when I hear the loud grind of the gears before the entire thing suddenly lurches forward, sputters, and dies.
Caleb laughs at the mishap and covers my hand with his, squeezing it softly.
“You got this, babe. Don’t get discouraged. Betsy just needs a little coaxing.”
“I hate Betsy.”
He pats the dashboard affectionately. “Betsy, don’t listen to him. He’s just a grump who hates not being perfect at something.”
I grumble under my breath, push the clutch in, and start the truck once more. Shifting it into gear, I release the pedal, and we jerk forward. Thankfully, it doesn’t die this time, so I’m able to drive the truck forward, even if the engine whines the entire time.
“You gotta shift, babe.”
“No. I don’t think I do.”
He grins at me and then leans over, nuzzling into my neck.
“Gotta. Put the clutch down. I’ll shift your stick for you.”
I peer over at him and do as he says, moving us into second gear. And then we’re moving a little faster, not much, but more than before.
“You got this,” he says encouragingly.
“I don’t think I do,” I mutter as I stare at the large hills looming in the distance.
“Up this one,” he says, pointing to a large mound with wheel tracks carved into the dirt. It looks like something struggled to make it to the top.
Not enticing at all.
“No way.”
“Come on, Whit. Live a little.”
“This truck has no doors. The seatbelts look flimsy. That hill looks too steep.”
“It’s not that steep.”
“What if we tip over?”
“Rolling isn’t a big deal.”
My foot comes off the pedal suddenly, and the engine sputters and dies right at the base of the thing.
“Caleb, you’re not to roll large machines. Ever. Again. I forbid it.”
He smiles softly at me, his gaze adoring. “You worried about me?”
“Of course I am. You’re…reckless.”
“Nah, babe. I’m living,” he says and then hops out of the truck, moving to the driver’s side and unbuckling me. Then he’s pushing me toward the passenger seat without a word.
“You will not…” I mutter as he revs the engine, my fingers scrambling to buckle the seatbelt. It’s frayed at the edges, and I worry that this may be my last day on Earth. It won’t hold me if we go careening off a cliff.
The truck lurches forward, and Caleb chuckles as I grab onto the bar in front of me. He told me it’s called an oh-shit bar.
Very fitting, I think.
Wheels spin as we make our way up the rocky hill, and I feel the blood drain from my face as we tip slightly to the right. Rocks kick up against the metal paneling, and Caleb whoops loudly as we lean even further toward impending doom.
“You’ve got this, Betsy,” he shouts, and it’s then that I notice he doesn’t have his seatbelt on.
“Caleb van Beek, put your seatbelt on right now!”
He smirks at me, doing no such thing. The way I’m going to make him pay for that. For putting himself in danger.
Thankfully, Betsy does me a major favor in not rolling us to our deaths. We simply slide and sputter our way to the top of the hill and come to an abrupt stop.
“You do that again, and you will be very, very sorry.”
“Promise?” he asks with a smug grin, and I feel my pants tighten slightly.
I hope it’s done now that we’ve made it to the top, but sadly, it’s not. He just peers over at me, clicks his seatbelt on, and pulls me in for a kiss before continuing on. We slide down the hill we just climbed, and I bite back a scream when the wheels come off the ground.
“Let me out!”
“Not a chance, babe. You’re in this with me. For. Ev. Er.”
I glower at him as my head almost knocks into the roll cage.
And the torture doesn’t end there.
Caleb attempts to drive up something that is not meant for humanity, and we get stuck in a long rut along the way. Sem has to pull us out using long yellow straps. They spend far too much time congratulating themselves on being reckless.
I watch all of this from my perch on an uncomfortable rock.
If Caleb were wearing a helmet and actually wore his seatbelt like he should, this might be a little fun.
I can see why people enjoy it, but I spend more time worrying about his brain rattling around and him breaking another bone than biting back smiles when he flies us over small ruts in the dirt path.
If I smile, it will only make him do it more.
And I think my promising to do filthy things to him for being so reckless only eggs him on.
Well, he won’t be so happy when I edge him for hours.
I want him crying and begging for forgiveness for putting himself in danger so often.
It’s horrific.
When we make it back to the house hours later, I’m dusty and in dire need of a shower. Not to mention, I had to watch Caleb lean out of Sem’s truck and nearly fall out trying to guide him up a particularly scary ridge.
I stomp to the bathroom, Caleb calling out to me.
But I ignore him. I need to give him the silent treatment and maybe a good spanking for whatever the hell that was back there.
But he follows me like I knew he would, stepping into the shower, pulling my body into his, and nuzzling into my neck.
“Don’t be mad,” he says as I continue to lather myself up. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. As punishment.”
I pause a moment and then mutter. “You’d let me do that anyway.”
He runs his hands down my chest and cups my cock in his palm. It feels far too good. How he makes my bad mood dissipate with just a simple touch is beyond me.
I’m so far gone it’s laughable.
“Maybe I’ll just not fuck you,” I manage to say, and he gasps, turning me in his arms.
I see the shock on his face. “That would be punishment enough.”
When he leans in to kiss me, I turn my face slightly, his mouth meeting my cheek.
“Seriously?” he whines. “You can’t still be mad at me.”
I purse my lips. “Hands on the wall, Caleb. I’m going to wash you.”
When he just stares at me, I lower my voice. “On the wall, Caleb.”
Then I wash him, slowly, making sure to tease his cock, his hole, his balls. Until he’s thrusting his hips forward, begging softly for more.
But I don’t give it to him.
Instead, I stop suddenly and step out of the shower, leaving him panting against the shower wall, his eyes wide in disbelief.
“You can’t be serious,” he mutters as I dry myself off.
“I’m very serious, Caleb. I told you to stop being reckless, but you didn’t listen. You didn’t even wear your seatbelt in Sem’s truck.”
His bottom lip juts out, and he reaches for his cock, but I grab his wrist and push it against the wall.
“Touch yourself today, and I won’t fuck you for a week.”
His mouth parts. “You can’t be serious!”
“Try me.”
He groans when I leave the bathroom, and my lips curl up in a smug smile.
He’ll learn his lesson, one way or another.
“Ready to go?” I ask, holding the bouquet I asked Aunt Del to pick up for me before we arrived. It was a specific request for this occasion—flowers his mother loved.
Caleb eyes them, and his gaze softens, something that looks a lot like love moving through his eyes.
It makes me feel alive.
My throat works as he leans forward and kisses me softly, a brush of his lips, a promise.
“Yeah,” he says, shrugging on his jacket and tugging his hat low on his head.
Like he’s hiding.
I don’t like that. Not when he’s so open, when that’s his natural inclination. But I understand this need. I’ve spent my entire life folded in on myself. I can’t fault him for doing the same right now.
My hand slips through his, and I lead him to the car, opening the door for him and letting him slide inside.
I drive us twenty minutes into town, where his mom was laid to rest. Aunt Del told me where to go so I didn’t have to ask him, so it would all be seamless. I know this is hard for him. He doesn’t go as often as he probably should.
When I park the car, I look over at Caleb and see him running a hand down his face.
“Why is this so hard?” he murmurs.
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been faced with the loss of someone I loved. But I know that if we love someone deeply, we can never really lose them. They become a part of us even though they might not be here in body.”
I say this to myself as well. Because I know loss is something inevitable.
It’s going to happen sooner rather than later.
He swipes at his wet eyes and swallows. “Yeah. A part of me. I like that.” His voice breaks as he looks out the window.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I murmur, and he blinks rapidly, making my chest ache for him. What must it be like to love someone so much only to lose them?
It seems I may find out very soon.
“We should go.”
I step up next to him and thread my fingers through his. He squeezes it gently and lets me pull him down the gravel path and up through some overgrown weeds before stopping at a simple marble stone.
Arabella Lee van Beek
“She was just forty,” he tells me. I see the state of her headstone and bend down, cleaning the debris away. I’ll make sure this plot is looked after from now on.
Caleb will never have to come here and find it like this.
He inhales deeply, and I peer up at him, his eyes shimmering.
But I don’t move, unsure of what he needs in this moment, so I just take the flowers I brought and set them right below her headstone.
Aunt Del showed me a picture of Arabella earlier. They look so much alike. The eyes, the hair. I can see the resemblance so clearly now. I close my eyes and pull the image up before staring at her headstone once more.
“Nice to meet you, Ms. van Beek. I’m Whit.”
Caleb exhales shakily behind me.
I roll my lips between my teeth and continue.
“Your son is amazing. You’d be proud.” I drag my fingers across her name, a handshake of sorts.
“Whit,” Caleb whispers, his voice breaking. I look up at him and then stand, pulling him against my chest. He clutches me, his fingers twisting into my sweater.