8. CHAPTER 8
H e hasn’t said a word to me since getting back in the truck.
He’s like a zombie, just blankly staring forward.
There’s nothing behind his eyes. No fight. No desire for revenge.
Get some sticks and dry leaves, if you can find them.
Check the glove compartment for old receipts.
Sit down and keep warm while your shit dries.
He complied without resistance, and I fucking hate it.
He’s been sitting by the fire—knees up to his chest as he hugs them—for half an hour.
My t-shirt and flannel were dry within ten minutes, but I’m still freezing my tits off. I’d love to be standing over there, drying my jeans, but I just can’t be near him.
Why the hell did I even do that?
And what the hell do I have to feel sorry about?
He’s the asshole who didn’t have his seatbelt on.
He’s the idiot who stared me down like he wasn’t scared shitless that we’d crash at any moment.
Sliding the last container of water onto the bed of my truck, I look at Jin through one of the topper windows.
Throwing the detergent and a drying frame into the tin tub, I close up my truck and look at the lazy prick; just sitting there.
“They’re dry enough,” I tell him, jerking my chin towards his clothes. “Put them back on, or don’t—I don’t give a fuck. But if those covers aren't washed and dried by the time I get back, there’s no match tonight.”
Still staring out at the lake, he asks, "When will you be back?”
“Twelve, or thereabouts.”
“I didn't bring my phone.” His voice is lifeless, robotic, and pitiful.
“Then I guess you’re shit out of luck.”
“The battery was dying.”
“Goddamnit, I don’t give a fuck. If you’re too stupid to make sure it’s charged, then—”
“How could I when you wouldn’t let me? You know how busy I was yesterday, and you told me that if I was too dumb to remember to charge it while I was cleaning, that I didn’t deserve it when I wasn’t.”
I drop the tub beside him and he doesn’t even flinch.
I want to slap him.
Rub his face in the dirt.
Get a fucking reaction.
I kick the tub into his side. “I told you to move.”
“You said to be done when you get back.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I bark down at him.
He shrugs, and I see red. Then his body is falling back like a ragdoll by the fire.
I lift him by his shoulders, and shake him. “Answer me! What the fuck is wrong with you, you weird ass motherfucker?” But his eyes won’t focus on anything, and his head just rolls around.
Holding him with one hand, I knock on the side of his head. “Are you even in there?”
Still no answer.
I pull him so close to me that my forehead is pressed against his. “I swear to god, you little cunt, if you don’t answer me, I’ll drown you in that fucking lake. And no one will ever be able to find your body.”
He closes his eyes, and I scream in his face.
Then I spit on him.
Jin’s eyes slowly open to meet mine. He raises his hand, wipes his face, then shuts his eyes again.
His feet drag through the grass as I march to the lake's edge, but he still doesn't put up a fight.
I step into the lake up to my knees, then plunge him into the water and hold his head under. Bubbles rise to the surface, but his body remains limp.
Pulling him out, I shake him again.
Water hits my face, but it doesn’t cool me down.
Back under he goes.
Ten, nine, eight, seven.
“I fucking hate you!” I roar at him.
Nothing.
“Why the fuck do you wanna be here anyway?”
Nothing.
Back under.
“Why won’t you just fucking leave?”
Nothing.
“What the hell do you want from me?”
Nothing.
Back under.
His black hair is stuck to his face, his head is lolled to the side, and his body is limp.
Jin opens his eyes. “Just hurry up and get it over with.”
“You fucking freak!”
I fling him deeper into the lake and storm out.
“So help me, Jin, you make me madder than anyone I’ve ever met. I swear you take whatever is going to piss me off the most and throw it in my face. You’re just like Shawn. You’re evil and spiteful!”
Jintae is shivering so violently when he stands I expect him to fall straight back over.
Each of his steps looks labored as he wades out of the lake.
On the bank, he unzips Tek’s jacket and lets it fall to the grass.
Every one of his muscles tenses as the frigid air hits his pale skin.
His shoes are the next to come off.
There’s not an ounce of fat on him.
He moves closer to the fire.
With shaking hands he pushes down his sweatpants, and I spin around.
My pants are drenched too.
My boots will be destroyed.
I need to get back to the cabin.
There's still too much to do before this damn storm hits.
F uck!
I speed down the track to the lake.
The truck screams, on the verge of giving up all together.
That makes two of us.
It’s one pm. I only just finished extending the lean-to, and the weather is turning. The sky is gray, the wind is howling, and Jeon Jintae is the last thing I want to be worrying about.
I pump the breaks, swerve around a stump, and straighten back out.
I don’t care if he’s gone and gotten himself sick. And if the little fuck is dying, an ambulance can come and pick his ass up because I won’t get stuck out. Come hell or high water, I will be disappearing this winter.
The topper door unlatches and flies open when I go too fast through a dip in the track.
I check it in the rear view mirror.
“Goddamnit!” The bag of beets—the one I just had to get—that don’t fit in the storage tub on the porch, have slid to the back of the bed and are half hanging out.
Hitting a sizable bump, I watch the bag bounce.
I slam on the breaks, watch the sack topple out the back, turn off the ignition, and—
“Holy fuck!”
Not two feet beyond the bumper, stands Jin. The tub is in his arms, and his eyes just stare—not as blank as before, more like he wants to tell me I’m late. Like he’s itching to take my words and throw them back in my face.
Out of the cab, I slam the door shut and snatch the tub from him. “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”
Back in his sweatshirt and pants, he looks off into the trees and shrugs one shoulder.
My fists tighten around the handles of the tub to the point my knuckles turn white.
He’s lucky I’m not willing to go without cushion covers.
My hand shakes as I unhook the tailgate.
I’ve never felt hatred like this before.
Abandonment? Yes.
Betrayal? You bet.
The passenger door shuts, and I throw the tub into the back of my truck and kick the beets like a fucking idiot.
I crouch down and pick up the sack. “Fuck me. I think this weighs more than you,” I say to Jin, but unsurprisingly I get no response.
After making sure the beets are pushed as far in as they can be, I close the tailgate and topper; checking it again to make sure it’s properly latched.
It’s not often that wind this strong makes it through such a dense spot in the forest, but as all the low branches shake near me, I look up. In the sliver of sky I can see clearly through the canopy of Douglas fir and Western hemlock, I watch as the sun is covered by grayness.
Climbing back into the driver's seat, I see Jin sitting as far against the window as he can get, clutching the strap of the seatbelt. I might have burnt him earlier, but right now it's my skin that feels like it’s on fire.
Clenching the wheel with my left hand tighter than I did the tub, I start up the truck, put it in reverse, and look over my shoulder.
When I extend my right arm over the back of the bench seat, Jin twists his upper body towards the window so he’s even further away from me.
My jaw tightens and I sink my fingers into the faded leather as I put my foot on the accelerator.
“Are we really doing this again?”
“The fuck are you going on about?”
“Never mind.” He shakes his head lightly before letting it fall against the window like it's too heavy for him to hold up.
The trip back is slow going, even with the lights on. Typically I avoid reversing in this thing because of how obstructed the view is, but I didn’t have a choice. It would have taken twice as long to drive all the way to the lake just to turn around.
“My hands and feet hurt,” Jin says so softly I barely hear him.
“Did you dry your shoes?”
“I tried. I… I can’t really feel my toes.”
Slowing the truck even further, I reach for Jin’s hand.
His fingertips are ice cold, and red.
“You fucking idiot,” I swear, and throw his hand away to crank up the heating as high as it will go. “Take your shoes off, you dense prick.” But he just sits there like his insides are frozen too.
I slam on the breaks again, and this time, the beets fly against the back of the cab.
Expecting some action, or at least a little urgency, I’m met instead with Jin almost cowering away from me.
“Seriously, are you gone in the head?”
I reach for his leg, but he pulls it away.
On my next attempt, I take his knee, but he pulls away again.
He lied to me. His clothes are still wet.
Exasperated by his stupidity, I unbuckle his seatbelt. With both hands I grab his ankles and force them onto the bench. At first, he tries to fight it, but within seconds his muscles weaken.
The dampness left in his laces has already started to freeze, and I tear at his trainers until they are both lying on the floor. His socks crunch too as I peel them off. And then, his toes; they’re worse than his fingers.
Holding his feet, I run my thumbs over each of his toenails then wrap my hands around them while I figure out what to do next.
We’re still at least ten minutes from the cabin.
Without thinking, I grab the sides of Jin’s sweatshirt and tear at it until it, and his tee, are in a pile with his shoes. I pull at his sweatpants, and he lets me do it because he's got no energy left to fight.
The last two buttons on my flannel are collateral damage as I strip my upper body.
Grabbing Jin’s left bicep, I pull him towards me.
I lay my t-shirt over his chest, then I put my flannel on him backwards, sliding the sleeves up his limp arms.
All I wanted from him earlier was to acknowledge my existence, and now, with him at his weakest, his eyes haven't left me since I took off his shoes. They’re heavy, and the lids are hanging low. He’s trying.
“Come here.”
He doesn’t move, but I don’t think it’s out of spite.
Pivoting, I bring my right leg up on the bench and slide it behind him.
Taking him by the shoulders, I spin him around, and pull him towards me.
Lifting one foot at a time, I rest them against the heating vents in the center of the dash.
The bare skin of his back is like a frozen board against my chest when I take his hands in mine.
Skin to skin, this is what mothers do with their newborns, right?
Yeah. It is. I’m sure of it.
With the heater pumping, the cab is the most uncomfortable level of warm.
Jin’s head falls back on my shoulder, then to the side until it hits my chin.
“Get off,” I say and move him away, but he just flops in the other direction.
I grab his chin and crane my neck to look at him. “Hey, Jin. Are you still with me?”
“Yes,” he says, but barely.
“Fuck you, Jeon Jintae,” I mumble, and loop my leg over him to brace him on the bench.
I reach under his legs to put the truck back in reverse, and continue towards the cabin.
Pulling up right next to the porch, I scoop Jin in my arms. He’s totally limp now.
Running inside, I lay him down on the old, stained, and incredibly worn couch.
Heading for my loft, I climb up halfway and grab my comforter.
Taking the other piece of the modular that Jin isn’t on, I drag it in front of the fire.
“Jin?” I say, tapping his cheek. “Jin?” I hit harder this time.
He stirs, groans, and looks up at me.
“Eden.” Is all that he says before closing his eyes again.
“For fucks sake, I don’t have time for this.”
Lifting him up like you would a sleeping child, I move him in front of the fire, and cover him with my comforter. “Get this dirty, and you’ll be washing it too,” I tell him before stepping back.
Linking my hands together, I rest them on top of my head and pace the cabin, shirtless, and clueless about what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.