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Outnumbered by Shay Savage (29)

“Bishop!  Bishop!”

The bed is bouncing up and down.  For a brief moment, whatever dream I had been having turns pornographic, but as I open my eyes, I realize it’s Seri bouncing up and down on the edge of the bed, not on my cock.

“Wake up!”  She shakes my shoulder.

“Why?”  I groan and turn my face into the pillow.

“Come on!”  Seri bounces again to make her point.  “It’s Christmas!”

I open one eye to look up at her face.  I couldn’t care less about Christmas, but Seri is all smiles. Solo jumps up on the bed as well, walking the length of my body until he’s standing on my shoulder, meowing repeatedly.

“See? Even Solo is ready to open presents!”

“Can I at least pee first?” I mumble.  “Maybe get some coffee?”

“Already made!”  She jumps up and pulls on my hand until I’m sitting.

I shuffle to the toilet as she rushes off to the kitchen and returns with a steaming cup of coffee.  As soon as I’m out of the bathroom, she grabs me by the hand again—nearly spilling the coffee—and hauls me to the front of the tree to settle down in front of the presents.  I get about three sips of coffee before she’s shoving a package at me.

“You go first,” Seri says.

Inside the makeshift, holiday paper is a box Seri had obviously made out of parts of my cigarette carton.  She even made a little flap that could be opened and closed again.  When I open the box, I find handmade coupons inside.

Free massage

Coffee in bed

Nice hot bath

Passionate kiss on demand

The box contains a dozen, similar coupons in total.

“I was trying to come up with something to give a person who doesn’t really like things,” Seri says.  “You can redeem them any time you like.  I hope it’s okay.”

“It’s awesome,” I tell her.  I pull out the passionate kiss coupon and hand it to her.  “How about now?”

Seri blushes as she takes the coupon.  Licking her lips, she then gets up on her knees to crawl in front of me.  She climbs up into my lap and runs her fingers through my hair.  As she lightly strokes my jaw and then leans in, she kisses me softly at first before she opens her mouth.

As she kisses me, her hands run over my shoulders, arms, and chest.  I groan into her mouth as she grinds down on my hardening cock.  A moment later, she pulls back and looks at me.

“Damn.”  I place my hand over my heart.  “Can I use that one more than once?”

“Hmm.”  She takes the coupon and tucks it inside the front of her sweatpants.  “You’ll have to see if you can retrieve it later.”

“Deal.”

“We should give Solo his gift!”

“Oh.”  I reach up and scratch my head.  “I didn’t get anything for him.”

“This can be from both of us.”

Seri reaches under the tree and pulls out a small package.  Inside are three balls of twine, tied up tightly.

“There’s a bit of dried caribou meat in the middle of each one,” Seri says.  “I think he’ll have fun trying to get to it.”

Seri rolls one of the balls at Solo, but he’s completely uninterested.  Instead, he’s determined to eat the end of a Christmas tree branch.  When she pushes him away from it, he jumps on top of the discarded wrapping from my gift, bites down, and kicks at it with his back feet.

“Ornery cat!”  Seri snickers.  “Hopefully, he’ll decide it’s interesting later.”

“Your turn.”  I grab the fur-wrapped package from under the tree and hand it to her.

Seri take the gift and holds it up to her ear to give it a shake.  She grins at me before pulling off the fur wrap and finding the plastic bag inside.  She turns it over and over, examining the contents.

“What is it?”  Seri looks at me questioningly.

“A survival kit,” I tell her.  “See, it’s got water purification tablets, first aid stuff, waterproof matches, a mirror you can use to signal people, and a knife.  The plastic bag is waterproof, and I’ll put a strap on the wrapping paper so you can carry it over your shoulder.”

“Wrapping paper?”  Seri grins.

“Wrapping fur.  Whatever.  It will be a bag once I sew up the sides.  It’s the kind of stuff you need if you’re ever caught out in a storm.  There’s even some fishing line and a hook.  I’ll teach you how to ice fish.”

“Thank you, Bishop.”  She reaches over and hugs me around the neck.  “I think this is the nicest gift I’ve ever received.

“Merry Christmas.”  My heart beats faster as I bask in her words.

Solo finally dives on one of his balls of twine as Seri eyes me, looking thoughtful.

“You don’t really like Christmas, do you?” she finally says.

“I don’t know.”  I lean back against the edge of the bed and page through the coupons to see which one most resembles my interrupted dream.  “It’s not that I don’t like it.  It’s just…there.”

“Because of your father?” Seri asks quietly.

“Basically.”  I let out a huff.  “Christmas was usually okay.  He was pretty good about keeping his shit together on holidays, but gifts under the tree just gave him something to break later.”

“He broke your toys?”  Seri gasps.

“One of his favorite hobbies.”

“I’m sorry.”  She reaches over and grips my hand.

“Not something I really want to think about.”  I turn my hand over and lace our fingers together.  “I’d rather make some new memories…with you.”

“I’d like that.”  Seri leans over and kisses my cheek.

I make breakfast while Seri examines the contents of her survival kit.  She pulls out the knife and fiddles with it until she figures out how to open it with the latch on the side.

“If you practice, you’ll get better at it,” I tell her.

“It’s smaller than the one you always have on you.”

“Mine is a hunting knife,” I tell her.  “It will cut through hide.  Yours isn’t quite that strong, but you can use it to clean a fish and strip down sticks for tinder if you need to start a fire.  It’s also good for chipping ice to melt for drinking water and for generally defending yourself.”

“Against what?”

“Bears.  Wolves.  Bigfoot.  Whatever.”

“Bigfoot.  Right.”  She laughs.  “Is this just a ploy to get me to learn how to clean fish?”

“Maybe.”

As we eat breakfast and Solo tries to tear apart the ball of string, I think back to the last Christmas I ever spent with my parents.  I remember the sense of excitement I had when I opened up a box containing a handheld gaming system.  I also remember how my father threw it at the wall just three days later.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” I say as I head toward the door.

“Everything okay?” Seri asks.

“Yeah.  I just need to chop up a bit more wood.  I won’t be long.”

I crunch across the snow on a bright and windless afternoon.  The snow is still deep, and the temperature is still bitterly cold, but the lack of wind and sunshine make it feel pretty good outside.

Inside, I’m not so bright and cheery.  I’d like to be able to embrace what I said about making new Christmas memories, but all I can think about is my father.  Seri’s happy about Christmas, and I don’t want to subject her to all the shit in my head.

Ultimately, I’m still a loner even if I have become accustomed to Seri’s presence.  Thankfully, she seems to understand that part of me and doesn’t push when I need some time on my own.  It was something Margot didn’t realize until it was much too late.

I retrieve the axe from the barn. I hold it in my gloved hand for a moment as images of my father cycle through my brain.  I close my eyes, willing the visions to stop, but they don’t.

Maybe chopping wood isn’t such a great idea.

Ignoring the thought, I make my way over the snow and around the back of the barn.  Several large trees, previously pulled out of the wooded area with the Jeep’s winch, lie under a blanket of snow, but I can still make out their shape.  There is no way I can haul them out of the snow to split the wood though, so I return to the barn and hang the axe back on the wall near the door.

I lean up against the woodpile and breathe in the fresh, cold air.  The chill clears my mind somewhat, but as I turn my thoughts toward what coupon I might use next, the radio I bought from Kirk suddenly buzzes.

“Bishop!  Hey, Bishop!

I grab the radio out of my pocket and hold down the talk button.

“Kirk?”

“Can you hear me?”  Kirk’s voice is choppy, but I can still understand him.

“I hear ya.”

“Those guys were just here,” he says, “the ones looking for your girl.  One of them just left, heading northeast up the road your way.”

“Got it.  Thanks.”

Without hesitation, I run to the door of the cabin and throw it open.  I don’t even bother to close it as I rush straight to the bathroom closet.

“Bishop?” Seri calls out.  “What is it?”

I don’t answer her.  I reach up to the top shelf and grab a cardboard box.  Inside is my Sig Sauer 1911 and a box of ammunition.  I load the weapon and shove it into the pocket of my parka.

“Stay inside,” I tell Seri as I head back to the door.

“Bishop, what is going on?”

A moment later, I hear a snowmobile engine.  I glance out the door, hoping against hope to see Margot’s familiar form on top of her blue-striped snowmobile, but it’s not her.  The snowmobile is black, and the person riding it is definitely male.

“Stay inside,” I say again.

Seri looks at me with wide eyes and nods.

I shut the door behind me, wondering if maybe I should have purchased a lock for it.  It’s way too late to think about that now, so I push it out of my head as I take a stand near my Jeep and wait to see what happens.

The man on the snowmobile parks a few feet from the Jeep and turns off the engine.  He leans back casually in the seat and then lifts the helmet from his head.  I see the familiar dark, curly hair and full beard.

“Hello again.”  Kyle smiles broadly and insincerely.  He tosses a leg over the snowmobile and heads in my direction.  “Mr. Bishop, right?”

“Just Bishop.”

“I’m Kyle,” he says as he holds out his hand.

I ignore the gesture.  I find it ridiculous to try to shake hands while wearing gloves, and I don’t want to shake this guy’s hand anyway.

“We met at the clinic,” he says.  “I was looking for someone.  A girl.”

“Yeah.”  I lean against the Jeep and stare at him.  “Did you find her?”

“Still on the hunt.”  He grins again, but there is nothing friendly in his expression.  “I think I’m getting close though.  You see, I found this backpack not too far away.  It has all her personal items in it—phone, wallet, a change of clothes.  The only tracks heading away from the area lead right up here to you.  Care to explain that?”

My heart is beating faster.  I hadn’t thought about Marty possibly revealing where the backpack was found, nor did I consider that my Jeep tracks would be an easy trail to follow from the road.  I don’t want this guy to realize he’s making me nervous, so I shift my weight, take off one glove, and reach up to rub snow out of my eyes.  When I look back at him, he’s still waiting for an answer.

“Not really,” I say.  Even if it were the type of thing I excelled at, I have no desire to play verbal games with this asshole.

His smile disappears as he takes a step closer to me.

“Look,” he says, “I know you’ve seen her and not just at that gas station.  I think she’s been here.  She might still be here.  I just want to talk to her.  She’s my wife, dammit!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say steadily.  “Sounds like she doesn’t want to see you though.”

He obviously doesn’t like hearing this.

“And how would you know that?”  He sneers and starts to walk around me toward the cabin.  “Iris!  Iris, are you in there?  Come out here right now!”

I step in front of him, blocking his path.

“You’re not going in there.”  I stand up straight, glad to see that I have a couple of inches on the guy.  “That’s my place, and you aren’t welcome.”

“You’ve got my wife in there.”  He takes a deep breath and a step back.  “I just want to talk to her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say.  “I live alone, and anyone you care to ask will tell you that.”

“How about you just show me the inside, huh?”  The malicious grin is back.  “Doesn’t look like there’s a lot of room in that shack.  If I could just take a look, it would set my mind at ease.”

I continue to stand in front of him, staring steadily with my hand near my pocket.

Everything about this man is familiar, and it has nothing to do with what Iris or Netti told me about him.  I’ve known hundreds of guys just like him—the attitude, the attempt at intimidation, the assumption that he’s going to get what he wants—and since I recognize it for what it is, I feel no need to back away from this sort of bravado.

“I’m going in there.”  He takes another step forward.  “You can either let me in, or I can drop you to the ground and go in while you lie here bleeding.  You understand me, you backwoods hick?”

I don’t respond.  Nothing I say to this guy is going to make any difference.  I may not know much about dealing with women, but I’ve had a lot of experience dealing with asshole criminals.

I slip the glove from my hand, reach into the pocket of my parka, and pull out the Sig.  Without hesitation, I flip the safety off and point it at his face.

No one invades my place.  You understand?”  I move forward, forcing him to retreat or else feel steel against his face.  “We aren’t in the States, and the reservations you may think I have about protecting my property are wrong.  I will not hesitate if you take one step closer.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting?” he says quietly.  He takes another step back, raising his hands in surrender.  “She obviously has you all twisted into knots, doesn’t she?  Believe me, I know how you feel.  Do you want to know the truth about Iris?  Do you?”

“Get out.”  I keep my voice at what I hope is a deadly calm.  “You are not welcome.  If I catch you anywhere near here again, they aren’t ever going to find a body.  You get me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says as he continues to back away.  “I get you.  Just tell her this isn’t over.  She’s my wife—that hasn’t changed—and she still owes me.  I’m not going anywhere until I get my due.”

“Get out.” I say again.  “Now.”

He lowers his hands slowly and throws his leg over the snowmobile.  He places the helmet back on his head but keeps the visor up and his eyes on me as he starts the engine and slowly turns away.  He speeds off over the banks of snow, and I finally lower the weapon.

Once he’s far enough away that I can no longer hear the snowmobile’s engine, I let out a long breath and place my hands on my knees.  I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute as images of blowing his head off flash through my head, and I wonder if I’m going to regret not pulling the trigger.

Standing up straight, I take a couple more breaths as I tuck the weapon back into my pocket and return inside.

“That motherfucker found us.”

I look at Iris and nod once, surprised she’s not screaming at me.

“He’s gone now,” I tell her as I pull her against my chest.  “He won’t fucking touch you, you hear me?”

“He won’t stay gone.”  She presses her cheek against me.

“Yeah,” I say softly, “I know he won’t.”

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