Chapter 13
Villain
Ariana is sitting her pretty self in the shade watching me, having no idea how much sweat and energy this shit is costing me. But at least she ain’t looking at me with that sad, pitiful face anymore.
I prop a long branch against the trunk of the biggest tree out here.
It’s wide and steady, which means it’s a good anchor for what I’m trying to do.
I’m in my head calling back to my childhood with this shit, back to Legos and Lincoln logs.
Shit, Jenga, too. I wedge the thick end of the branch into the crook of a root and lean the other side against the bark.
It’s shaky at first, but I adjust the angle until it feels right.
Ariana hands me a smaller stick. She’s been doing that almost every time I need one. It lowkey feels like she can read my mind.
She still can’t put all her weight on her hurt leg, but every now and then, she’ll stand and try to help me.
She’s good at pushing leaves into a pile, brushing dirt out the way, and holding branches steady while I tie strips of cloth around them—which she cut from some of the clothes she took out of suitcases.
I’m doing a shit job of blocking out who the clothes belonged to, but I got bigger fish to fry right now.
This shit is starting to take shape. The branches are sloping like I want them to. The big ass leaves I layered across the top are looking like shade. I’m weaving them together as best I can. We’re fucked if rains, but at least we’ll be out of the sun.
I take a step back and look at our shelter. It’s got a roof and some sides, and the open front says come on in.
Yeah.
I did that shit.
I wanna tell Ariana to go lay down in it and take a nap, but it’s missing something.
When I look over at her, she’s studying it with her head tilted to the side.
“Okay, then,” she says softly. “I’m impressed.”
I grin, wiping my neck with my shirt. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Did you learn how to do that somewhere, or were you just winging it?”
“Definitely wingin’ it.”
Her laugh is light and her smile is genuine, catching me off guard before she says, “Good job.”
“’Preciate it.” I stare at my handiwork. “It needs something, though.”
“A door?” she says, her smile teasing.
“Nah…” I rub my chin, surprised by how much more hair is already there. “A floor. We ain’t sleepin’ on the dirt again.”
Her eyebrows lift a little like she wasn’t expecting me to think of that.
I grab more branches from the pile, medium ones that are long enough to stretch across the two logs on the side.
One by one, I slam them into place until a crude platform starts to take shape.
I crouch down, adjusting shit and wedging pieces tighter together, then test the strength by putting my weight on it. It creaks, but it holds.
Ariana leans forward, her eyes following my every move. “Are you trying to build a bed?”
I ignore the doubt in her tone and pretend I know exactly what the fuck I’m doing.
“Yep.”
I grab a pile of them big ass palm leaves and weave them through the branches to cover the gaps.
I have to go deeper into the trees several times to get more until I think I finally have enough.
My fingers hurt, sweat drips down my chest, my eyes are stinging.
Eventually, I take off my drenched t-shirt and toss it aside, working bare-chested under the hot ass sun like a fuckin’ sharecropper or some shit.
If I was home, I’d be paying somebody to do this for me.
When I glance at Ariana, she looks away fast, pretending she wasn’t staring at my chest. That just makes me go harder and move faster, thinking maybe if I impress her, she’ll forget how bad shit is for us right now.
And maybe she’ll be a little friendlier.
Finally, I’m satisfied with it. I wipe my hands down my jeans, breathing hard as I look over at her. “Come here.”
She slowly gets up and eases over, resting her hand on the edge of the platform.
She presses down, testing it like she’s in a mattress showroom.
She sits carefully, and I brace myself, surprised when the palms bend but don’t break.
Her lips part slightly. For the first time, I see relief on her face.
“I can’t believe you pulled it off.”
I shrug. “I got hidden talents.”
“Yeah, apparently they were hidden to you, too.”
I hide my smile. “You like teasing me, huh?”
She chuckles softly. “I do. Especially now that I know you hate it.” She swings her legs around, getting comfortable. “Can it hold both of us?”
I crouch low to get inside, settling my weight on the platform as slowly as I can.
It holds.
But I’m more excited about being in the shade. It’s instantly ten degrees cooler, at least. The platform isn’t comfortable, and I say that as a nigga that sleeps on an eight-thousand dollar mattress at home. But it’s way better than the dirt.
Ariana leans back against the trunk, sighing. “I would give anything for a long, hot shower right now.”
“Yeah. You need one.”
She whips her head towards me, elbowing me in the side.
“Relax,” I say, laughing. “Oh, you don’t like when I tease you back, huh? Who’s sensitive now, huh?”
“I’m sensitive about that,” she says quietly. “Hygiene is important to me. I’m kinda obsessive about it.”
I nod, keeping my expression neutral, but inside, I’m giddy as fuck. I like a hygienic woman, that’s for damn sure. That’s one reason I love black women so much. I know them legs, feet, and coochies gon’ get washed, and they gon’ smell good all the livelong day.
“You got your perfume with you? In your suitcase?”
She frowns. “Yes. Why?”
“I like how it smells on you.”
I can’t tell if the look on her face means she’s flattered or scared. I meant that shit as a compliment, but who knows how she took it.
“Maybe I’ll go out again later,” I say as I shift my back against the trunk. “I’ll try to find that ocean for you so you can wash. If you want.”
It’s quiet as fuck after that.
I close my eyes and feel myself dozing. I only open them again when I feel her move. She’s stretching her hurt leg out, flexing it at the knee.
“Lemme see that,” I say, pointing. “I wanna see how it’s healing.”
She nods.
I lean forward and unwrap the bandage later by layer until the cut is exposed.
She watches me closely. “Does it look okay?”
I study it for a while, then shrug. “I honestly have no idea.”
She laughs, short and high-pitched, and I can’t help laughing too. Goofy ass laugh.
“Lemme get the kit,” I say as I climb out of the house. “I’ll clean it and rewrap it.”
I get fresh gauze and antiseptic, then return to her side.
My hands move slower than they need to, careful not to hurt her.
She doesn’t move or flinch, she just watches.
When I finish, our eyes lock. It kinda feels different between us now, but I can’t call it.
We ain’t friends, but we ain’t enemies either.
Whatever we are, it’s making me feel a way.
In my stomach. In my chest. I’m sweating again, even though I’m in the shade.
Maybe because I’m touching her skin, which is like silk under my fingertips.
That shit is blowing me. I run a finger down the length of her calf, real soft like, just because it’s impossible not to.
She doesn’t flinch at that, either.
I clear my throat and lean back, tossing the old bandages out onto the ground. “I took inventory earlier,” I say, forcing my voice to sound normal. “We don’t have a lot of snacks left. But we got plenty of alcohol.”
She lets her head fall back against the tree and closes her eyes. “I’m too tired to think about that right now.”
I frown at that. I thought she’d be impressed that I’m thinking strategically now.
“Water, though…” I trail off. “Maybe twenty more bottles until we’re out.”
She blows out a soft sigh. “That’s not good.”
“I know.”
There’s a long pause, then she speaks again, her voice small as hell. “What if this is it for us?”
My jaw clenches. I don’t wanna think about that. At all.
“Think positive,” I snap, reminding her.
But she opens her eyes and stares me down, tears glistening. “I’m starting to worry.”
I look away, staring out at the wall of green beyond our shelter. My voice is rough when I answer, rougher than I mean it to be.
“Me, too, but ain’t shit we can do except wait.”
I say that, but there actually is something we can do.
Something that’ll get our minds off of possibly dying out here.
Something my body wants real bad. Something that would definitely make the waiting easier.
Something that would feel good and satisfy both of us.
But I know she ain’t goin’ for it. Not yet anyway.
So I swallow it down and shut the fuck up.