Chapter 15

Jack

This deer escaped me once and he's not gonna fucking do it again.

I chase him down the mountain with my bow and arrow in hand.

I never let my prey get away. The deer might be running now but he's not gonna make it out of this alive. I always win.

This ideology also pertains to life and to women.

What happened with Avery this morning is circling around in my mind. I can't forget what I almost did to her. And I can't forget the great desire that I have for this one woman, this woman who’s entered my life so randomly.

Part of me hopes that when I get back, she’s gone. I can tell she was having nightmares last night, and for some reason, I’m completely sure they were all about me. She’s safer away from me and she must know it. Part of me hopes she’ll take off and I can go back to being fucking alone like I deserve.

The other part of me knows that she’d better fucking be there when I get back. It’s snowing too fucking hard out here right now for someone so small and delicate and under-dressed to be traipsing around in this madness.

And if she is gone…I’ll just have to track her down and haul her back to my cabin all over again.

She's the only light in my life that I've seen in such a long time. Feels like she's come to me for a reason.

But I can’t fucking think about that now.

Don’t think.

Just do.

The deer is jumping and bounding over all manner of boulders and rocks, bushes and brush, but he's no match for me. I'll outrun him, I'll outsmart him, and then he'll be dead.

The idea of this offers some form of relief. Having his dead body in my grasp does something to remove the pain. I need to kill, to hunt, to be alone in order to tackle my inner demons.

And a fresh deer for dinner means that I don’t need to stop fussing about rations. I might not have enough ingredients to cook Avery all the pancakes her sweet little heart desires, but the least I can do is bring back some fresh meat to cook up.

There aren’t many predators left on this mountain. That damned luxury hunting lodge has driven most of the wildlife off.

Right now, as far as I know, I’m the only predator out here.

And this big, muscular 12-point buck is my prey.

I could never thrive around people as I do out here in the woods.

I know this forest like the back of my hand. I've spent countless hours hunting and fishing all around the land.

Nature has a way of bridging that gap between pleasure and pain. Being out here brings me a peace that defies all understanding.

The deer's running one way but I run the other, determined to cut him off at the bypass. He'll never see me coming.

I run down the mountain and the feeling of running makes my muscles burn. It's a welcome reprieve from reality. Exercise always takes me out of the torturous thoughts that go through my head, thoughts of my past.

I round the corner to find the deer bolting towards me only he doesn't know it. I raise up my bow and arrow and with one shot, I have the animal flung off his path, stumbling to the ground.

I've done it again. I've taken out my prey and it feels good.

What part of me needs to kill in order to calm down? I don't even want to ask myself because I don't want to know the answer.

The military has left me unhinged and not in a good way.

Yes, I've been running from my pain and I'm perfectly aware of it. The thing is that it was working…until Avery entered my life.

She made me see what I've been missing. She made me see that I need other people in my life, namely her.

Buck even likes her. Sometimes, Buck doesn’t even like me.

While I like the solitude and I could live out here all alone forever, at this point I'm starting to rethink things. If being alone means never having a woman like that to come home to, then maybe I don't know what I'm doing after all.

I go to the deer and see he's still shaking, still alive.

It should have been a clean shot, but it looks like he turned his leg on a rock at the last second. His black eyes stare up at me, full of fear.

In those eyes, I see myself reflected back at me.

I take out my knife and plunge it into his neck, ensuring death will arrive soon. I don't want the animal to suffer.

I pull my arrow out of his side and wipe the blood off on my pants. I've killed him and with that comes a certain sense of being alive.

I’ll use ever part of him. The hide will become something soft and nice—maybe a pair of pretty little boots for Avery’s tiny, delicate feet. His entrails will become bait. And I’ll whittle the antlers into something useful—forks or knives, or a little miniature of the buck himself.

I feel at last as though I'm living in the moment, instead of in the past. It takes hunting to feel that way but it always works.

I can go home now with a clear head.

I swing the dead carcass over my shoulders and prepare for the long walk home.

The air is frigid and gray. It'll snow soon.

It's a good thing I got this done before the storm sets in. By the look of the sky, I can tell it’s going to be a big flurry.

Living out here has made me especially adept at sensing weather patterns. When your survival depends on it, it becomes easy to sense a storm.

The animal's blood is running all over my body and I don't even care what a savage it makes me look like. What the wildernesses have done to me is inescapable.

I've become the antithesis of the modern man. I've devolved back into primitive times when the forest is all that there was. It's me and the land, me versus nature. And that's how I like it.

At the same time, knowing this about myself, I also know that Avery shouldn't fucking be here with me. I'm a terrible fucking person inside and out. I can't be trusted around her. She could get hurt.

And that's the last thing I want to do. I've never seen someone so sweet and innocent as her.

As much as I want to claim her as my own and to keep her under my wing for the rest of our lives, I know that I don't always have control over myself, as demonstrated by this morning’s bullshit.

I realize that killing the deer is an emotional metaphor for the way I kill the pain in my life. Once it rises up, I have to destroy it immediately.

I'm not willing to face these things head on. I'm running from something for sure.

I walk the many miles up the mountain back to the cabin. The exercise does me good and it clears my head.

I finally get to the place that I now call home and I shake the mud off my boots before opening the door. I stand there with the deer slung over my shoulders only to see Avery peek her head out from the hallway. She stands naked before me and the sight cripples the newfound strength that I've just found.

She's the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. Her eyes widen at the state of me. I take a second to comprehend what she must be viewing.

Me, covered in blood, with the deer slung over my shoulders. I'm not exactly refined at this moment.

I look at her and the weight of what happened this morning hangs between us. I almost hurt her, though she could never know that.

I want to confess. Come clean. Tell her how I almost wrung the life out of her pretty little neck while my big, hard cock pressed up against her over the blanket. That way, she’d know what a monster I am, and she’d know to stay away.

At the same time, that electricity, that desire, that fucking lust is coursing between us. It's a connection neither of us can deny. It's been there since the first moment I laid eyes on her.

The wind is starting to pick up outside and it's becoming very cold. The storm is brewing. I'm glad Avery's stashed away here in the cabin. She's warm and safe at least.

But to her, I must look like a monster. I feel like one. Especially seeing her there, naked and tempting, waiting for me.

I can’t fucking handle that shit.

Girl needs to put some fucking clothes on and stay the fuck away.

I look at her like she’s done something wrong, but in reality, it’s me. I’m the bad guy here. Can’t even look at a woman’s nude form without wanting to pin her down and make her feel my fucking lust.

So I turn around and take the deer out back to my slaughterhouse. Actually, it's more of a room, a little wooden shack at the back of the cabin I made especially for blood and guts such as this.

I didn't say anything to her because I didn't know what to say. I have no idea where her mind and emotions are at.

All I know is that I can’t even be in the same building as her right now. The wanting is too much, and after this morning, I don’t fucking trust myself to do what’s right.

I just left her standing naked in the living room. There is so much unspoken between us.

I've probably scared her to death. While I'm supposed to be a safe fucking harbor for her, I have instead threatened her very existence.

I'm surprised she's still here. Happy, but surprised. I just want to go back in there, drag her into my bed, and fuck her properly.

But I force myself to resist.

For now.