The sensation of Caroline’s gaze against my back tightened my muscles, and I tried hard to ignore her intense attention. Her camera shutter sounded every few seconds, and the click was distracting considering I was wielding a very sharp knife. Butchering a deer wasn’t as easy as people tended to think, and I reached to wipe sweat from my brow with a harsh breath.

Against my skin the sun beat relentlessly, and I managed to skin the dead doe completely before I started to sizzle like bacon. Tossing the pelt to the edge of the patio carelessly, I dunked my blade in a bucket of water to wash off some of the blood.

“Are you going to turn the pelt into anything? Like a rug?” Speaking up from her chair, Caroline’s voice dribbled with curiosity even as I twisted to catch her uncovered eye. She was gorgeous in the cold light of day, and my gaze scanned her form as she sat, reclined and comfortable. Things about her face I couldn’t see inside were now so blaringly obvious, and I rolled my jaw absently before turning to my other knives.

I’d been by myself too long.

“Maybe.” Lies. I didn’t know how to do any of that crazy woodman shit, and Caroline snorted as if she knew my half assed answer wasn’t truthful. “Your dog was really good out there. How’d you teach her all that shit?”

Changing the subject easily, I grabbed a paring knife as I posed my question. In my peripheral vision, Kiki lounged under her master’s chair, but even from a few yards away I could sense the smugness radiating from them both. For a dog, Kiki was incredibly smart; she knew she did well. I didn’t know what to expect when I brought her with me, but I’d never seen such a well trained animal. She didn’t need to be told which beast to bring down- she knew how much she’d eat, how much Caroline would eat, and judged based on that.

Frankly I was half convinced Kiki was some lab rat dog that’d escaped.

“It wasn’t easy. I had to figure out how to get her from incapacitate to kill shot. I have no problem skinning animals- I do it a lot out here- but I don’t like killing them. Maybe she sensed that. I worked for seven months or so training her before bringing her out with me, and then it all clicked for her or something. Do you do this often, or do you stick to rations and canned soup?” The tease in Caroline’s voice wasn’t to be mistaken, and I cocked my head as I rounded the table the doe was on.

“Pretty often, I guess. It’s fun… and rewarding. I’m a shitty cook, but the details don’t matter, right?” I couldn’t seem to keep my big fucking mouth shut with her, and her laughter was loud when it pierced my skull. Tightening my grip on my knife, I lifted my head to glare at her as she hid behind her camera. “It’s not fucking funny, Caroline.”

“Yes it is, James.” Lowering her camera, Caroline ran her hand through her hair as a goofy smile settled between her puffy cheeks. “You run head first into a gun fight, but you can’t make anything other than mac’n’cheese- I don’t mean to be condescending, but did your parents bother to instill you with life lessons?”

Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the deer to twirl my knife while I contemplated the question. The answer was pretty damn obvious, though.

My parents didn’t give a shit whether we could do anything because we always had people that did it for us.

“Not really. That’s not the point, anyway. I carved the thing- that means you cook. Division of labor, right?” My knife slid easily into the supple flesh of the doe’s hind leg, and I furrowed my brows in concentration. Blood and fluid coated my hands and wrists, and one wrong move meant I’d lose a finger. Pursing my lips together as I carefully popped the leg out of socket, I held my breath as Caroline’s voice slithered into my ears.

“What? I can’t cook if I can’t stand, James. That’s just idiocy. Even with the braces I’ll be lucky to be upright for 10 seconds.” Bland and annoyed, Caroline’s tone sent my heart into an erratic rhythm for all of the time it took to blink. We were always back and forth; there wasn’t a time that we were in the same space that we weren’t borderline arguing. The honest part of my mind wanted to admit that I liked the banter after so long in a dark abyss. The other parts just wanted her to shut up or to change the subject.

“I have a wheelchair. You’ll be fine. I mean, if you want to eat venison steaks that are completely burned on the outside and raw on the inside…” Letting my response hang, I cracked a smirk at Caroline’s loud gasp-slash-scoff.

“Like Hell! Fine- be that way. But if I’m cooking, you’re doing the dishes.” Groaning roughly, I stopped what I was doing to stare at Caroline’s triumphant, pretty, heart shaped face. Her light smattering of freckles glowed under the bright sun, and I frowned at the smirk that crinkled her nose.

“Fine.” There’s just no winning with her. Let it go. Besides, I’ll get a great steak out of it… hopefully.

The doe had probably only just lost her spots, and carving her didn’t take much time or effort. Above me, the sun had barely moved a few degrees across the sky before I was hauling Caroline back into the kitchen. Briefly glancing at the back bedroom as I set her on a chair, I clenched my jaw at the very idea of having to go in there.

No matter what I did, I couldn’t get rid of the smell of sweat, afterbirth, and death. I’d thrown out the mattress, doused the floors and walls in bleach- nothing worked. Slowly sauntering towards the door, I hesitated with my hand on the knob and took a deep, stabilizing breath.

Inside the room there was barely anything, but the phantoms that haunted the space attacked me as soon as the door was opened. A wheelchair that had never been used sat folded against the wall directly to my right, and I forcefully kept my eyes from wandering as I reached for it. My heart thudded hard, threatening to smash through my ribs with each pump.

I was beyond the threshold for maybe two seconds, but it was two seconds too long. Closing the door with a harsh bang, I let go of my straining lungs to sigh heavily. Popping open the wheelchair with jerking movements, I tried to ignore that infernal clicking that never seemed to stop. My hope that Caroline would eventually run out of memory on her card seemed to be dashed each time I heard that sound.

“Why do you look like a piece of your soul just died?...” Even solemn, Caroline’s question was riddled with curiosity, and I shot her a nasty glare. Pushing the wheelchair to her, I flexed my hands and rolled my shoulders in an attempt to shirk off the disgusting feeling that clung to my skin. My shirt clung to my abdomen, and I grabbed the fabric tightly to pull it over my head with a grunt.

“Fuck off. Cook the damn steaks. I need a shower.” Short and sharp, my words bit at the air as I stormed past her towards the bathroom. Behind me, Caroline sucked in a breath, but I couldn’t find it in me to care if I’d hurt her feelings.

Shutting myself in the bathroom, I locked the door and shirked off my jeans. Heading for the shower, my legs were stiff, but my thigh didn’t throb angrily like it usually did during stress. Rubbing the spot furiously, I turned on the shower with my free hand to lean against the tempered glass.

“God fucking damnit…” Berating myself silently as water pounding against tiles drowned out my groan, I clenched and released my jaw. Why in the fuck did I have to mention the wheelchair?

Oh, right- because Caroline never backs down. It should’ve been such an admirable quality, but in this moment, it was just another crack of a whip at my soul. Why did that damn dog have to pick me?

Standing under the hard, burning spray of the showerhead, I stared at the bath out of the corner of my eye. This cabin had been a foreclosure, and the people that had it before me had started to remodel. Their starting point had been right here, but they poured so much money into it that they couldn’t finish. The mistake was entirely amateurish and avoidable, but it was me that made this place a lost cause.

Living here, with Frank, for four months, I’d never once used the tub. The faucet knobs had never been turned, and the ceramic had never been splashed with soapy water. It was a space to relax in while the rest of the house was a prison by comparison.

Maybe I could finish it… Maybe Caroline would even help me if I asked. Knowing she was going to leave sooner rather than later didn’t staunch the thought, and I closed my eyes to take a shallow, moist breath. She could take this place, and I’ll just go back home… wherever that is.