14. Blake
BLAKE
I need to find my son.
He is, like most of us, a creature of habit, and what he told Aspen about the things he enjoys is true. If he can’t be outside, either running the trails or fishing or hunting, then he’ll be pacing the hotel like some kind of trapped animal.
That’s why he struggles so much when the snow falls, and the mountain pass is cut off. But we’re still a few weeks away from bad weather.
Will Aspen even still be here when it hits?
I hope so. After all, isn’t that the whole point of me bringing her here?
But if Levi goes too far too soon, he’ll push her away.
The one positive I’ve clocked from her coming to see me is that it’s clear how much she wants to be here.
I feel a little sorry for her. She’s so lonely, and so desperate to have a place she can call home, that she’ll even convince herself that she can handle someone like Levi.
Perhaps I’m not giving her enough credit.
She’s clearly a strong person, since she nursed her dad all through his dying days alone and has handled everything that comes after a loved one’s death without falling apart.
She’s also no blushing virgin, and, as much as it pains me to even think it, perhaps she’s even had sexual experiences with men who have my son’s… interests.
I find Levi in a clearing where he’s created a kind of outdoor gym, except using the materials nature has provided.
He’s doing chin lifts on a thick branch of an oak tree.
His t-shirt has been slung to one side, so his bare back is glistening with sweat.
He’s clearly trying to work off whatever frustration has been caused by having Aspen here.
“Levi?”
He ignores me and continues to do chin lifts. The heavy sound of his breathing intermingles with the rustle of the breeze through the trees and the constant twitter of birdlife.
“Levi?” I repeat, louder this time.
He must either hear me or sense me standing there, as he lets go of the branch and drops to the ground.
I realize he’s wearing earbuds, which is why he didn’t hear me the first time. He takes one out and scowls.
“What?”
Some kind of heavy rock music blasts from the small white buds.
I frown at them disapprovingly. “You’re going to damage your hearing listening to that so loud.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”
I envy the young person’s ability to believe nothing bad will ever happen to them.
Like they’re immune from all the shit the world can throw at you.
Except Aspen isn’t like that. Quite the opposite.
She’s had to deal with a ton of crap in her short life.
I think of her caring for her dad alone.
I could have done something to help—I should have done something to help—but her dad wouldn’t have wanted me anywhere near her. Not after what we did.
“I need to talk to you about Aspen.”
“Why?” Levi doesn’t meet my eye.
“Don’t fuck this up,” I warn him. “We need her.”
“You brought her here for us to have fun with. That’s what I’m doing, having fun.”
“She’s got a boyfriend back home. She’ll run straight back to him if you push her too far too quickly.”
“No, she won’t. I saw how she was looking at you last night. Like she was tearing off your clothes with her eyes.”
My cock tingles at the thought. I can’t pretend like I haven’t noticed the tension between us. And fuck, she’s so beautiful. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen such perfection, and it’s all wrapped up in this innocent bundle of youth that makes me want to desecrate her.
She’s so desperate to be loved. So desperate for that tiny amount of connection with another human being that it’s almost painful to watch.
I’ve never met the man she’s seeing, but he can’t be doing a very good job of being one if he’s leaving his girl so fucking lonely.
That she’d gone to the funeral alone spoke volumes.
She also didn’t exactly seem like she was going to miss him when she left with me.
She doesn’t have anyone else in her life, or at least that’s how it appears.
No friends, no other family members. That makes her perfect for us, but it also softens me toward her.
I notice how she struggles to make eye contact sometimes, how she almost seems to have to remind herself it’s what she’s supposed to do.
“Just do as I say,” I tell Levi.
He picks up his t-shirt and wipes his forehead with the material. “I’ll do my best, but what about—”
I cut him off. “You don’t need to worry about that. You have enough trouble controlling yourself.”
“Fine.” He shrugs. “I’ll try.”
I exhale a breath from deep in my lungs. “Thank you.”
How much can I trust Levi? I wish I knew my son better, but his unpredictability is the one thing I can count on.