Jack
I watch her curled up on the couch, her fingers still curled in Buck’s shaggy black hair. She looks like an angel.
Her blonde hair is half covering her face. Her chest heaves in and out a little in a steady rhythm, confirming she’s asleep.
Part of me wants to just stay here and watch her, make sure nothing is going to happen to her and be here when she wakes up.
But there’s a dead fucking bear out there, with fucking good fur to be carried back to the cabin and skinned. I didn’t feel good about killing that bear, even if I had to do it.
Best make the most of its death, then.
The longer I’ve thought about this, the more I’m warming to the idea. It will be a surprise for her. And the best part will be that I’m the one who fucking made it.
What better time to go and get the dead beast than now. Avery’s asleep, and by the looks of her, won’t be waking for a while. I guess she’s still getting over the injuries from the car crash, not to mention some of our wild sex antics.
Before I go though, I tiptoe over to her and lean down to give her a gentle kiss on those delicious lips.
She purrs when our mouths meet, but stays asleep.
Fuck. It takes all my inner strength and willpower to drag myself away. Now that I’m this fucking close to her, I just want to lie down next to her and watch her sleep.
Then Buck snores, long and loud, and I’m reminded of what I’m wanting to do today.
Come on Jack, the fucking rug won’t get made if you lounge around here all fucking day.
At the door, I grab my coat and throw one last longing look at my diamond.
Outside I grab my axe and some rope.
The rope is to strap the bear to me and the axe in case I meet some other wild animal that’s gotten to my kill first. Chances of this happening are pretty fucking slim, but you never know what might go down when you go out into the woods alone.
It’s not hard to retrace my steps to where I killed the bear. I know these woods better than the back of my own hand.
He’s exactly where I’ve left him, face down.
With this snowstorm, the last few days and the freezing temperature, he looks for all world as if he’s sleeping. I know fucking better.
I take a moment to stare at this skinny bear. Where was his mate?
It’s unusual for a bear to be out here on his own in the middle of winter. But from what I can tell, he was a loner.
Maybe his clan had turned him into an outcast.
“So my friend, what crime did you commit?” I ask him as I get ready to lift him up and throw him over my shoulder. “I bet you weren’t responsible for losing an entire fucking squad in a war zone, huh?”
Silence.
Instead of dragging him over the ice, I manage to hoist him onto my back. He’s rather light despite his size. I don’t want to damage the fur so it’s better that I carry him.
“You and I are alike, you know,” I continue my conversation with the silent beast. “We’re both outcasts. Only I’ve been lucky to meet someone, someone I really care for. Maybe if we hadn’t run into each other the other day you might have met someone too.”
The thought saddens me. Suddenly there it is again, the feeling I’m nothing better than a savage brute. I led my team to a total failure of a mission and certain death and then I go right ahead and kill an innocent beast.
Images of Avery being attacked by this very bear push other thoughts aside.
“Of course, if you hadn’t attacked my mate, I wouldn’t have had to kill you.”
I ponder my own words.
Maybe I’m not as bad I think I am. I didn’t kill the bear for sport. There are plenty of people who would have, but not me.
What a fucking joke. How can hunting be a sport?
You hunt because you need to eat. You kill because if you don’t, it’ll kill you first.
With all this navel gazing as I’m walking, I’m back at the cabin in no time at all.
Before I go and take the creature into my shed, I stop to check on Avery. She’s still asleep on the couch.
Carefully, I place the bear on my worktable.
It takes a lot of skill and craftsmanship to skin an animal like this. Sure, if you don’t want the skin or only bits of it, any old fool can butcher him, but if you want the skin in one piece you need to fucking know what you’re doing. And I want the skin in one fucking piece.
With the beast on his back, front paws stretched out, I go to the back wall of my shed.
I’ve got plenty of tools. I don’t own any of those fucking power tools men with small dicks own. I don’t need to compensate in that department.
No, I own real tools.
I’ve got every sort of tool you could want or need to build a cabin, kill an animal, skin it and sew it back together if you need to.
I’ve got tools most men would look at and go dumb at the sight of. When you come into my domain, you’re in tool fucking heaven.
Everything is hanging up and labeled. It’s in order, in my kind of order, and my eyes are now zeroing in on my four-inch flexi-blade knife. The smaller knife means I’ll have more control over what I’m doing, even if it means the whole job will take a little longer than if I were to use a bigger one.
I want to make absolutely fucking sure I get the skin in one fucking piece.
Like a surgeon, I prepare my patient.
As I examine the creature on its back in front of me, I see Avery’s naked body in my mind. She’s so delicate I still can’t believe she lets me anywhere near her.
Every time I touch her I fear I might break something. I’m much more comfortable touching this bear here on my table, knowing I can’t do him any more harm.
There’s nothing fucking fragile about a bear. But Avery, her arms are thin and made of porcelain. So is her neck.
Christ, her swan-like neck is the most delicate part of all. When my fingers stroke her, I’m afraid I might bruise her.
Come on Jack, you need to concentrate on the fucking job ahead of you. If you daydream about skinning the animal, it’ll never happen.
Chop-chop, don’t stop.
I take a deep breath and go to my starting point.
The first cut is made on each paw toward the neck. Next, I slice my knife from the neck right down the center to the tail. And now I work my way toward the outside.
It’s slow work and it’s fucking hard work. Around the skull I have to exercise extra caution. The fur is thin in this area and cuts will show real easy.
At the claws, I pause. I need to make a fucking decision. I’ve got the choice of working around the claws, pulling them out with pliers and stitching them back in, or I can forget ‘em completely.
I stop and think. Does it matter?
In the end, I opt for no claws. Nothing that fucking Avery can find some way to accidentally hurt herself on.
The next tricky areas are the ears and the nose of the bear. I slow right down. By now, my back’s aching a little from bending over.
I straighten up and examine my handy work so far. I can already picture Avery’s face when I present her with it.
A present for my prize.
My eyes stray to the rear of the shed where I’ve got a dead deer waiting to be skinned as well. If Avery stays asleep, I might get both animals skinned today.
The skinning is only the first part of course. Next, I’ll need to coat the skin with salt to dry it out.
Coating the skin in salt…
Now that’s a thought. Now that I’ve got Avery all to myself, I picture coating her body in…something. Not salt.
What would I coat her in? Molten chocolate. If I coated her with molten chocolate, I would need to lick it all off, every last drop.
This woman must have cast some kind of spell over me. It isn’t like me at all to be thinking along these lines.
Whatever the fuck Avery is doing to me, I don’t think it’s doing me any harm.
But how long will it last?
Will the magic wear off and she’ll get sick of me and living up here in the mountains?
Now I’m even starting to think long fucking term. I know there’s definitely something wrong with me.
It is only day five with Avery and I’m acting as if we’re going to get fucking married.
Fuck.
With my inattention, I’ve slipped off the skin and cut my finger. Blood drips out and I curse some more.
Better stop all this fucking thinking, Jack, and keep your mind on the fucking job.