Chapter 2
TWO
Jack
“So walk me through security,” I said, stopping to glance over at Miles.
The sun was higher now, and the early morning stillness had given way to a low hum of activity.
Sounds you’d expect on a farm, Elliot sawing wood in the distance, a woman I didn’t recognize throwing slop to the pigs.
Normal at first glance, but it was too quiet, too restrained.
Even the animals’ grunts and huffs were muted.
“We have guards set up on each corner, and we run on rotating four-hour shifts,” he said. “We have obstacles in the pasture, and we’ve put early warning devices outside the main farm. So far they only go about a mile out, but we’re working on it.”
He gestured, and I followed, taking in the rusted equipment that was turned over and placed at odd angles to make a straight path impossible.
Posts buried in the ground with rusted barbed wire between them, high enough to trip and slice.
It wouldn’t stop a group of those things, but it would slow them down.
Crude and low tech, but effective.
“So how was I able to just walk up to the door?” I asked.
The kid frowned and shook his head like he was five times his age. “That’s the question, right? I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know. You gonna tell me?”
“No. Think it through. Tell me what you come up with. Still, you did a good job, kid,” I said.
He shook his head. “No, this was all Ms. Newman’s idea.”
I cocked my head. “What do you mean?”
“After…well…after,” he cleared his throat and put his hand at the back of his neck, his expression tense, “you left, she stepped up and took the lead. It’s just…” The kid frowned, looking around the farm, which seemed so peaceful.
“Just what?”
“Folks sure don’t seem happy you’re back,” he said. The kid sounded both guilty and apologetic, which just reminded me that yet another person was bearing the weight of my fuckups.
I grunted. “You’re saying I’m not getting a welcome-home party?”
The kid smiled, but then shook his head again. “A party would be awesome, but…”
“What’s going on?” I stopped walking and stared at the kid’s face, recognizing the look, even though I’d never seen it from him.
“Uncle Levi—”
“He died?” I said, bracing myself for confirmation of something I assumed was a foregone conclusion.
“No, but he’s not getting any better.” Miles dropped his head.
“Fuck,” I muttered and rubbed my hand over my face, the stubble on my cheeks pricking my palm.
He sighed. “Even still, I think people would be happier, but I guess it’s not possible with Uncle Levi still being sick and Bridget leaving.”
“Bridget’s gone?” I held his gaze.
He nodded. “Yeah, she left the same day you did. Ms. Newman told us all.”
I studied his face, searching for truth. Nothing in the kid’s face convinced me he believed what Asia said, but I decided not to press. He didn’t need to be in a tough spot, especially not because of me.
I clapped his shoulder. “Show me around, kid.”
Miles smiled, and then eagerly walked me around the rest of the farm. They’d built a root cellar and the walls were lined with jars of preserved food. They’d also set up rain barrels and finished building out a rudimentary water filtration system.
“I did the chicken coop myself,” Miles said, his chest swelling with pride. “Something got in the old one and killed two hens, so I reinforced the sides and added heavier wiring.”
I looked around the place again. It was exactly what I hoped it could become. A place for her to be safe. For them.
A place for my baby.
The thought landed like a kick to the chest. I looked at Miles, needing something to distract me. He looked serious, then frowned at me. “I’m sorry about your brother, Jack,” he said.
“What about him?” My voice was rougher than I intended.
He stammered. “It’s just that…you’re here, and if…”
“He’s not dead,” I said, wishing I had the conviction in my heart that was clear in my voice.
Miles smiled and gave a final nod of his head. “Good. Let me show you the rest of our work.”
I followed him, but kept glancing back at the house, wishing I could catch a glimpse of Asia through that fucking burlap. Either she was avoiding me, or based on how things had gone before, she wasn’t thinking about me at all. But a conversation needed to be had. I wouldn’t let her put it off.
By the time nightfall came and the farm started to settle, I went into the house to look for her.
She wasn’t in her old room. I’d checked earlier and saw a flannel shirt of Lourdes’s, along with a book on animal husbandry on the night stand.
I moved through the house, unable to shake the familiarity, the comfort.
I’d built the ranch house in Nebraska myself and let Evan pick the paint.
But even with the days I’d spent there after I left the farm, it might as well have been Mars.
I still hadn’t figured out how to process that.
I stopped in front of the parlor door, even though it wasn’t really a parlor.
It was just one of those spaces in big old houses that didn’t have a closet, so you couldn’t count it as a bedroom and was too damn small to be a living room.
I threw the door open, spotted Asia sitting on the corner of the bed.
She wasn’t surprised to see me.
I stepped inside and closed the door, looking at the room which was barely furnished, though at least it had a full-sized bed. A half-burned candle threw shadows across the room. Her boots were neatly lined against one wall.
It was where she slept, but there was no personality in it.
No life.
No trace of the Asia I left behind.
I looked at Asia.
She looked back.
“Where’s Bridget?” I asked.
Speaking first gave her the victory she was so clearly fighting for. Conceding didn’t come easy; I wasn’t even sure I’d ever done it. But I had questions, and Asia would answer them.
She gestured towards the window. “In the pasture, feeding the soil.”
I nodded. “She have a heart attack or something?”
“No. I shot her right between the eyes, then dragged her to the pasture and buried her.”
The candle flickered, and Asia grabbed a lighter, but put it down when the light didn’t go out.
“Why?”
“She was poisoning Uncle Levi.”
I studied her, her nonchalance, the utter lack of emotion in her eyes, her hands still on her lap, loose, easy.
Unsettling.
“Thought you were one of those anti-death penalty types. You didn’t put her in prison?”
She shook her head. “We couldn’t spare the calories.”
“Good,” I said.
She studied me. Her features were soft, revealing none of the tension I’d expected. Framed in candlelight, she was beautiful beyond words.
“Asia, I—”
She twisted her lips. “Shut the fuck up.”
That was the most emotion I had heard from her since I’d walked through the door.
“Asia, I had—”
“I said shut the fuck up, Jack.” She stood in one fluid motion, crossed the distance between us, and pressed her mouth to mine.
It wasn’t a kiss.
This was yet another way for her to tell me to shut the fuck up.
She didn’t want my explanations, the explanations I had practiced on the infinitely long walk back here. She sure as fuck didn’t want the apology I didn’t know how to give.
She just wanted me to shut the fuck up.
So I did.
I grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against me. She glared at me through wide eyes but didn’t pull away. Her chest heaved with heavy breaths, and her lips were slightly open, her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth.
More than enough of an opening. I licked her bottom lip, then pressed my tongue inside her mouth.
Fuck.
I breathed out hard, my eyes slammed shut as I took this moment in. The warmth of her body, the taste of her against my tongue.
My hands caged her head and tilted her to deepen the kiss.
She kept her hands at her sides, not responding but not pulling away.
That would have to do.
I kissed her deeper, but then broke away and pulled her shirt over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and I stared at her, cataloguing the changes.
Smooth shoulders, arms that were soft but I saw the muscle underneath. Muscles built by work she had been forced to do because I was gone.
Full, plump, dark-tipped breasts that were bigger now, the skin on her nipples tight and darker. I dropped to my knees.
Kissed the space right under her navel through her clothes. Rested my head against the slope of her stomach. The change was subtle. Almost nothing.
But it was everything.
She breathed out and I let her breath vibrate through me. Then stayed there, my eyes closed, letting the anvil that lived in my chest since the day I left loosen.
Because she was here.
I was here.
Everything else was noise.
I didn’t look at her face when I pushed her pants down. Couldn’t help but smile when I spotted her socks. Stark white and fucking pristine.
I kissed her knee. Licked the skin that covered her tense muscles.
She said nothing.
I kissed higher, trailing my lips against the soft skin of her thigh, getting closer and closer to her center, wishing I could reach her heart.
I looked up at her. Her chest rose and fell with her heavy breaths, and I was sure I spotted the faint beat of her pulse at her neck. But she refused to meet my eyes.
But she didn’t pull away.
That would have to be enough.
Her arms hung loosely at her sides, impassive, waiting.
I skimmed my hands up her thighs, my lids dropping at the feeling of her silky-soft skin under my palms. She still didn’t move; I saw her fighting against it, but she couldn’t hide the goosebumps that now pebbled her skin, the harsh exhale that slipped between her lips.
Her breath hitched when I pressed my lips against her thigh.
I dared glance up at her face. She still refused to meet my eyes, and her lips were thinned, her jaw set.
I ran my hands up the inside of her thighs, lifting one corner of my mouth when she parted for me.
It was instinct.
She might hate me, but her body was mine.
I breathed in deep, my mouth watering at her intoxicating scent. I kept my gaze on her face as I teased her pussy with my nose. Her pupils were wide, her mouth slack, anger burning in her gaze.
One last nuzzle, and I licked her slit through her panties. She was soaking wet, and I couldn’t wait to drink my fill.
I gripped her hips for a moment, then pulled her underwear down. Didn’t give her a chance to react before I licked her slit, long, slow strokes back and forth until her cream coated my tongue and she squirmed.
Her hips rocked back, and I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her in place as I teased her clit with my tongue. When I pushed inside, she gripped my shoulder, her fingers tight with resentment.
I pulled out and nudged her clit with my tongue, three sharp little swipes. She tightened her grip on my shoulder and a strangled sound spilled out of her throat.
I huffed out a laugh. She’d hate it, but I’d heard it.
Would treasure it, just like I treasured this.
I sucked her clit and pushed one finger inside. She was so fucking tight, so hot, my cock throbbed at the thought of being inside her. I added another finger and her walls clamped down, and it was my turn to moan. My hand drifted to my cock, and I squeezed, needing some relief.
But I let go and focused solely on her.
She pushed my hand away and threaded her fingers in my hair. She pulled but then held me still as she grinded on my face.
Her hips rocked, her thighs trembled, and her eyes burned with anger.
It didn’t matter though. She could hate me. Be pissed at me. Use me like I was nothing and she was less than that.
I wasn’t going anywhere, and her body didn’t want me to.
Every angry moan, every sigh, every tremble gave her away.
She came almost silently, but cried out when I speared her with my tongue, fucking her with jabbing thrusts.
I noticed as she came back to herself increment by increment. Hated it when she pulled her hand away.
My cock ached, straining against my pants, but I managed to stand.
Asia stared at me like she wanted to strike me down.
Then she reached for me and pulled my pants down far enough to free my cock.
I moaned when she gripped me and stroked my length once, twice.
Then she pushed me down on the bed.
Her face burned with rage as she mounted me, then grabbed my cock at the base, and held me steady as she lowered down.
She didn’t move slowly. Just dropped her hips and took me in one stroke.
She hissed, then smiled, seeming to welcome the pain.
Then she moved, fucking me furiously, her tits bouncing with every downstroke.
I rocked up, and she turned her head sharply, her eyes aflame.
She dropped her weight, pressing my hips back against the bed.
Then her eyes locked on mine, she rode me furiously, chasing her climax.
She smacked my hand away when I tried to reach between our bodies.
After that, I kept my hands on the bed and let sensation take me.
She was close.
I was, too.
She moved faster, looping her arms around my neck as she ground her clit against the base of my cock. She went off like a rocket, not silent this time, but not fully letting the moan out.
My eyes drifted shut her warmth, her tightness—her—sending me closer and closer to…
Then she was gone.
I snapped my eyes open, momentarily confused. I blinked, seeing her standing in front of me.
She didn’t look angry anymore.
Didn’t look like she had just used me as her personal fuck toy.
Didn’t look like I still tasted her on my tongue.
I watched her dress. She moved like I wasn’t even in the room.
Then she grabbed a towel and washcloth and headed for the door, pausing to call, “There’s space in the bunkhouse if you decide you need to sleep.”
“What do you mean, if I need to sleep? Asia, do you think I'm leaving?”
Her lips quivered. I braced myself, expecting her rage.
Wanting it.
I didn’t get it.
She did the thing I least expected.
She laughed.