30. CHAPTER 30
“ Y ou sure I can’t have just one bite?”
I close the book I’m reading, place it in my lap, and glance at the last piece of my second batch of pancake bars that’s sitting on the arm of the sofa.
It does look good. And it tastes great, too.
I didn’t even use chocolate in this one. Just heaps of brown sugar, butter, maple syrup, and cinnamon.
“You mean this?” I ask, holding up the plate, then panning up Eden’s body until our eyes meet.
He’s still sipping on the brown sugar coffee I made him, and looking fine as hell while doing it. He’s layered the almost threadbare black and red flannel over a plain henley tee, and he looks good enough to eat.
His dark hair is pulled back and the shaved part has grown enough that most of the spiderweb is covered. And annoyingly, now that I can’t see it, I miss the damn thing.
“I don’t think it’s fair that you’ve gotten to eat two whole cakes.”
With an apathetic shrug, I put the plate back down and re-open my book.
“I told you you weren’t getting any, and because you thought it would be a disaster, you were happy with that deal.
And, it’s not like I’ve been eating all the other meals, too.
This has been my breakfast the past, what… four days?”
“You know I could have just gotten myself a piece?”
I grin the sweetest, most innocent looking grin I can. “But you wouldn’t do that, now would you?”
With his free hand, Eden holds on to my chin and leans down to kiss me.
He tastes like coffee, and I taste like pancakes.
Ending it with a chaste peck on my lips, he drags up the words I’ve been wanting to tell him for days—but I quickly press my lips together.
I’ve talked myself in and out of how he feels so many times at this point.
One minute I can feel the same words dancing on his tongue, then, the next, he’s unnervingly composed and almost indifferent.
But his hands never lie.
The way they touch, and grab me. It’s getting fiercer, like he’s reached the limit of what he can handle as well.
“A… Are… I mean do you have much you need to get done this morning?”
Eden walks backwards to the kitchen and puts his mug in the sink. “Why? Are you gonna help me?”
“Wasn’t planning on it.” I hold up the latest mediocre book in Shawn’s collection. “Gotta force my way through this one.”
“So why read it if you don’t like it?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “I guess it’s not about that. I mean, they wouldn’t have all been published if someone didn’t like them.”
Eden takes his coat off the hook by the door, and puts it on. “Yeah, but that’s just like saying all music deserves to be listened to.”
“It does. It doesn’t mean you have to like it. But sticking to the one thing forever without seeing if there is something else you like—”
“Are you trying to tell me something?”
I shoot him a cheeky grin. “Well, seeing you asked. Would it kill you to play something other than eighties metal?”
“Yes, I think it might.”
“Hmmm.” I nod thoughtfully, and raise the book again. “Then I think it might kill me to share my last piece of cake.”
“Better not make any mess, then,” he blurts out, and before I can do anything to stop him, he’s shoving the cake in his mouth.
“You prick!” I shout and spring after him, but he’s already slammed the cabin door shut. Running back to the sofa, I jump on it and bang on the side window to get his attention. “You’ll pay for that!”
Turning towards me, he cups his hand behind his ear like he can’t hear me, and I flip him the bird.
Then, like I’ve blown him a kiss, he pretends to pull my finger off and shoves it in his mouth.
So I slam my other middle finger against the glass, and this time he shoves it up his nose before disappearing inside the shed.
With a twist, I flop down into the soft sofa cushions, and sulk, because, screw him for making that something I find endearing.
Pivoting again when I hear the shed door close, I watch Eden carry the broom and ladder towards the back of the cabin.
“I love you,” I whisper to him before he’s completely out of sight.
“I love you, too,” I reply back, deepening my voice to sound more like his.
Embarrassment instantly washes over me and I throw myself backwards until I’m lying like a lovesick loser, spread out over the sofa.
He loves me.
He loves me not.
He loves me.
He loves me not.
I cover my face with my forearm, because how pathetic is that?
How dumb is it—
“Fuck!” I curse, and slap my hand over the pocket of my hoodie when my phone vibrates.
“Shit!” It happens again.
Fishing it out, I stare wide eyed at the screen as text after text appears on the screen. All from Tek.
But what did I expect to happen?
I haven’t charged my phone once till now. I just let it run out.
Eden loved to torture me with early mornings—or maybe that's an excuse.
Maybe I liked being helpless.
Maybe I saw the frustration on Eden’s face every time Shawn texted him, and used it as a selfish justification.
Or maybe I was embarrassed.
Maybe I hated myself.
Maybe I wanted to be locked up here.
Maybe I liked the idea of being Eden’s slave.
And maybe it’s because I couldn’t stand seeing all the desperate texts from my brother…
When all the texts from the past two months stop flooding in, I roll over, put my phone on the floor, and just stare down at it.
I didn’t tell Eden I’d charged it last night while we were in bed.
I’d wanted to, but I needed to do it on my own.
I needed to reach out to my brother with nothing influencing what I write, because it’s my responsibility to let him know.
About being safe.
About where I am.
About Eden…
The majority of the texts are from the first week I was ‘missing’. They are frantic, begging me to tell our parents where I am, even though I’d texted them all that I was safe—no matter how questionable that safety might have been.
To be honest, the only thing I am really looking for is Eden’s name. Because that lets me know if he’s figured it out.
Or if Shawn has spoken to him…
It would appear not.
The last text was from last week.
After the video.
That’s good, right?
My thumbs hover over the qwerty letters. Do I really want to do this?
Jintae : I’m safe
Laying the phone screen down on my chest, I stare up at the rafters.
There’s dust. Cobwebs.
Maybe I should ask Eden to bring the ladder inside.
I hold my breath.
My nose starts to tingle.
My eyes sting from how long it’s been since I blinked.
Then, all encompassing dread picks at my insides when my phone vibrates.
I really hoped he was working.
Tek : Where are you?
Jintae : I’m safe. That’s all you need to know.
Tek : Mom and Dad called the cops.
I’m not surprised. Them not listening to what I want is what landed me here in the first place.
Jintae : Please tell them I’m alright.
Tek : Goddamnit, Jin. Can’t you please tell them yourself?
He knows as well as I do that it just isn’t something I can do.
Jintae : How’s the shop going?
Tek : Don’t act like you didn’t disappear off the face of the earth for two months.
Jintae : I feel good, Tek.
Tek : Am I supposed to act happy for you?
Jintae : I don’t wanna fight. I just wanted to let you know I was doing well.
Tek : Are you coming home?
Jintae : Yes.
Tek : When?
Jintae : I can’t answer that right now.
Tek : Please, just tell me where you are. I’ll come and see you, and won’t tell Mom and Dad.
Jintae : I can’t.
Jintae: I don’t want to leave.
Tek : Are you still in the state?
Jintae : Yes.
Tek : Did you go back to college to stay with friends?
Jintae : No.
Tek : Jin, please.
Jintae : I’m not that far away. That’s all I’m gonna say.
Tek : Will I hear from you again.
Jintae : I guess. Maybe.
Tek : Please, Jin.
My heart jumps into my throat when I hear the shed’s rickety door slam shut.
Jintae : I love you, Tek.
Tek : I love you, too.
Jintae : I’ve gotta go.
Tek : Are you sure you’re safe?
Jintae : Yes. 100%. But my GPS is still turned off.
Tek : Please don’t go. Tell me what you’ve been getting up to.
Jintae : Maybe later. Bye.
Sitting back up, I put my phone on the arm of the sofa face down next to the empty plate. Once more, I take the book, and after a long, deep breath, I open it back up.
It really isn’t very good.
The writing isn’t bad, it’s more the entire premise. It’s pretentious when it doesn’t need to be.
It’s trying too hard.
Already expecting his return, I say, "Hey,” to Eden when he's back inside but don’t bother looking up. “Do you think you could bring the ladder inside for me?”
“What for?”
I turn the page. “I wanna clean the rafters.”
“Are you touched in the head?”
I can’t help but giggle. “Not at all. But they’re pretty dirty.”
“And what about it? It’s not like we go up there.”
Letting my head limply fall backwards, I ask, "Can you not just do it for me?”
“Can I do it later?”
“Sure.”
“You look sexy like that.”
I look at him from the corner of my eye. “Like what?”
“With your head back like that. Your neck all stretched and your Adam’s apple sticking out.” Something flashes across his face, but it's gone before I can place it.
After hanging up his coat, Eden walks towards me.
I run my fingers down the strained veins in my neck until they’re tracing over my collar bone. “You mean like this?”
First the right, then the left side of the sofa cushion compacts beneath his weight as he kneels over me.
With his palm against my forehead, he pushes me back until my head is craned over the back of the couch and my neck is straining at how tight it’s being stretched.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” he growls; low, from his stomach.
And I catch it again, that flash of…something.
I press both hands against his chest, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he twists his hand into my hair as he sits on my lap.
“You’re hurting me.”
He runs his own fingertips down my throat. “I wanna eat you up.”
“I want you to get off me.”
“Why’s that, Little One?”
“Cause I'm still pissed at you for eating my cake.”