10. Soren #2
She probably lay awake listening to it, too. Wherever she lives, whatever apartment she’s got, I guarantee there isn’t the same kind of thick silence as here at the lake.
“I’m not the forest whisperer, but things happen. Weak branches end up cracking under their own weight. Get changed.”
Gilli gestures down to the yoga pants and flannel shirt she’s got on, tied at the front in a knot near her belly button. “This will be fine.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Just like a fucking kid . A sweet pair of tits doesn’t make her mature.
“You’ll need jeans. Something thick so you don’t get scratched by whippy limbs.”
She doesn’t argue with me again, even when I hear her muttering under her breath that there is something wrong with me. There is, of course. Something is wrong with me.
Once she’s changed into jeans, I march her outside to the utility vehicle. Aiden’s truck is gone.
It will be good for him to have some time to himself to reconnect with nature.
He’s always surrounded by people. The staff at the school, the students he coaches on the football field…
He deserves a break. Some alone time does a man good, and gives him ample opportunity to pull his head out of his ass where my stepsister is concerned .
The desire to fuck her is fine, but acting on it is a different story.
Gilli eyes the machine and the chainsaws in the back like they’re vipers waiting to attack.
As soon as she’s in the seat beside me, I take off, fast enough to have her grabbing the overhead bar.
She clutches the bar as we aim for the driveway and the downed tree I saw on my dawn walk. My jaw flexes. She accused me of being a bully and I am; it’s in my nature to take charge, and when anything is amiss in my life, I handle it.
The chip on my shoulder is one I’ve filled with everything from drugs to booze to women, and when none of those things made a difference, I learned to live with the emptiness.
This time, I’m at my whits end. The vacation I’d needed is out the window and Gillian pisses me off with her very presence.
A bully and an asshole, yeah. That’s me.
I can’t be depended on to say the right things and I can’t always be soft and accommodating. I’m not the type to play games. I say what’s on my mind and it tends to rub people the wrong way.
The brakes grind a little when I pull to a stop near the fallen tree. Pushing up the sleeves of my black hoodie, I wait for Gilli to meet me at the back of the vehicle.
“I’m going to take a stab in the dark and say you’ve never worked a chainsaw before. Electric or otherwise.”
She glares at me. “I know my way around a scalpel, but no, I’ve never used machinery like this.”
“A scalpel?”
“Vet clinic,” she clarifies. “I help perform surgeries.”
It’s a small piece of information and one I hope I would’ve figured out with some light digging into her past. But she offers it up to me without hesitation.
I explain to her how the battery-powered chainsaw works.
“Seems simple enough,” she murmurs.
“Good. Then you’ll have no trouble working it.”
She’s pulled her hair back in a braid that travels down her spine. Her glasses perch on the edge of her nose and a ray of sun streaks across her face, bringing out the green of her eyes.
“What are you going to do if I fail at this?” she asks. “Are you going to kick me out of the cabin and make me camp in the woods until I chew the tree into pieces?”
Her stubbornness is maddening. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
“I’ve got a right to wallow,” she mumbles. “Sometimes it hits me all at once. It’s hard to push aside and pretend the world is rainbows and sunshine.”
She feels the need to defend herself. That isn’t always a bad thing.
“I don’t feel sorry for you,” I reply. “Whatever it is you’re going through, you said you’re dealing with it on your own, and I’m inclined to let you. I don’t give a shit about your feelings. Sorry.”
She glares at me and I reach over to grab the chainsaw and thrust it into her hands.
“You don't know me,” she says in a monotone. “You’ve threatened me and tried to intimidate me. I was right when I called you a bully and yet I’m still here. I’ve gotten pretty adept at taking shit off of people who think they’re better than me.”
I take the second chainsaw in hand. “You give as well as you receive. The only thing I ask is that you do as you’re told and stop acting like the world owes you something.”
“I think you’re the one who believes I owe you something.”
Her statement stops me dead in my tracks. “Cut the fucking tree, Gilli. ”
It’s an impasse, at best, and the manual work gives me an opportunity to work out more of my anger. It’s not the same as punching a bag, or punching a person and feeling the give of their muscles, but it counts.
I feel like absolute garbage.
She takes one end of the tree, the thinnest portion of the downed trunk, and I take the other. Woodchips fly. I’m loath to admit it but she’s a hard worker. I only hear her complain once when a large chunk of wood drops on her foot.
Maybe she isn’t so bad after all .
Her mother might be a real homewrecking piece of shit, but is it fair to take it out on her daughter?
Her machine cuts off and I swing my gaze around in time to watch her drop it in the dirt.
“Didn’t you pack any water?” she asks. “I’m thirsty.”
My brows crash together into a harsh line as I stare at the chainsaw. “There’s some in the back.”
She pulls out a bottle and holds it up. “You want one too?”
“I’m good.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t bring beer,” she says. “Although you don’t strike me as a beer kind of guy. What do you like?”
A trail of sweat drips beneath Gilli’s glasses and down her jawline. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip. She twists the top off the water bottle and takes a long swig.
I pause, resting the battery of the saw against my leg. Breathing heavily but not from exertion.
“You strike me as more of an Old Fashioned kind of guy,” she adds.
My good mood, such as it is, sours immediately. “That’s my father’s drink of choice,” I growl.
Her lips twist, chastised. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. Because why wouldn’t I be like my father? Apples not falling far and all that.”
“It seems like I’ve struck a nerve. ”
She’s pleased about it, too.
“What strikes a nerve is how you dropped the damn chainsaw in the dirt without giving a shit about it. You have to have a little more situational awareness and respect for other people’s property.”
She holds her hands out in front of her. “Don’t take it out on me because you hate your Daddy.”
Wrong thing to say. “It’s not my Daddy I hate. It’s your whore Mom who chose to get her knees dirty while she sucked his cock.”
“It’s been eight years .” Gilli says it like I need to give it a rest.
“Yeah, eight years,” I agree. “And my mother has been medicated heavily for the majority of those years. Two of them she spent in a psych ward.”
Gilli huffs. “I’m just trying to talk to you. Trying being the operative word here, Soren, because you’re making it difficult to say anything . You act like a dickhead every time I open my mouth.”
Then maybe she should shut up, because something might just get stuffed in it to make her shut up. Like mother, like daughter.
“I don’t want you to get to know me. We’ve been just fine ignoring each other since the wedding.” I glare at her. “My dad abandoned my mom for yours.”
She glares right back at me. “Yeah, well, at least she didn’t abandon you .”