I take Jessa home. Unfortunately, Lucy is staying overnight with Avery so I don’t get to see her. That only pisses me off even more. I can’t catch a fucking break.

When the limo pulls up to her tiny house, Jessa starts to get out.

“I’m sorry the way things went,” she says.

What does that mean, exactly? How they went in the city, when she basically told me she wasn’t impressed with the life I built with her in mind? I don’t say anything. I’m too wound up and afraid of what I might say.

“I’ll go in with you,” I tell Jessa.

“You will?”

“Of course,” I say. Did she think I would just ditch her on the curb? Christ, I’m not a total asshole. “Send someone back with a car for me by morning,” I tell the driver.

We go inside the house, and Jessa drops her keys on the kitchen table.

“Do you want something to drink—”

I don’t let her finish, I’m on her so fast, my mouth covering hers. Suddenly, overwhelmingly, I realize she’s the only thing I need and I need her now, all of her. My dick is hard and my blood is pumping. As my tongue digs in her, feeling all of her, my hands make quick work of the rest of her body.

I grab her breast in one hand, pulling and pushing to feel more, keeping my mouth on her to taste. More, more. I need every single inch of her, right this second.

I step back and toe off my shoes. I rip my shirt off over my head, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. Jessa watches me, curious but hungry too, I can tell. I take off her shirt and strip down her pants. Then I lift her up so that she’s straddling me, and carry her into her bedroom.

I toss her down on the bed, then cover her body with mine. I kiss her so deeply that the feeling of her soft wet tongue on mine makes nearly delirious. My dick is throbbing for her and I’m not sure I can wait. I yank down her panties and kick off my own boxer briefs. I lean over her, taking my dick in my hand. Without pretense I enter her. Her cunt is wet for me, just like it always is, and it makes my head go crazy. I pump into her hard, grunting with the effort. Being buried so deep inside her, slick with her want, is the best place in the world to be. I fucking love her, I love this.

“You like that?” I say to her. “You like my cock stuffed up inside you?” I pump her so hard our bodies are edging up the bed. “You fucking love my big dick, don’t you? You love getting fucked by it again and again.”

“Cole,” she says, wrapping her arm around my neck. I cover her mouth with mine and feel all of her—her tongue in my mouth, my dick in her cunt. Screw this day, this horrible day. She doesn’t deserve it. Why have I brought her into my mess?

Suddenly being so close to her feels wrong, and I pull back. With one deft motion I flip her over on her stomach, grab her hips and pull her into me. I fuck her cunt again, plowing into her pussy until she yells out, her cries of ecstasy echoing through the empty house. The come is bubbling up in me, I can feel from all the way down in my toes. I stop for a moment, thinking I can stave it off. Impossible.

“Can’t wait,” I say. I pump hard and fast into Jessa, stuffing my big dick deeper and deeper into her. The moment she pushes her hips back into me I’m done.

“Jesus, fuck,” I moan out, and I quickly pull my dick out of her and spray hot come across her back, pumping my dick with one hand and holding her hips in place with the other. Come sprays across her back as my whole body seizes as I milk out every last drop. When I’m done it’s like I’m physically incapable of opening my eyes. I sink back on my heels, and give myself a moment to gather myself.

I feel Jessa moving on the bed. When I open my eyes she’s scurrying across the bedroom for the bathroom to clean herself up. I fall face-first on the bed. I’m already drifting into sleep when I feel her back on the bed, nudging me to get under the covers. I follow her lead, and she covers me up to my shoulders. I push the sheet aside and pull my arm out.

Her soft hand is on my cheek, stroking it lightly. I drift into a deep, dead sleep.

When I wake in the morning, my head is pounding. I feel like shit. But when I think about last night, the way I acted with Jessa—at the hospital, here in her bed—I feel even worse. What am I doing to this poor woman? I’m right back where I was three years ago. A total ass who can’t handle himself and just wants to get the fuck out of town.

I follow my nose to the smell of coffee in the kitchen. Jessa is there, already dressed. I can hardly look at her, I’m so ashamed.

“Coffee?” she asks.

“Sure.”

She makes me a mug and sets it in front of me at the kitchen table. She leans against the counter with her own mug.

“I just got a text from Avery,” she says. “She’s on her way with Lucy.”

“Good,” I say. Seeing Lucy might lift my spirits. Seeing Avery might crash them back down, though. I don’t need her shit today. I know how she can be. Even if she doesn’t say a word, her disapproval of me speaks volumes.

We sip our coffee in silence. When my phone rings I have a heavy feeling in my chest. Jessa watches me as I take the call. It’s the news I’ve feared. I listen as the voice on the other end speaks. I say little, aside from “Thank you,” at the end.

“What is it?” Jessa asks when I end the call.

I get up from the table and find my pants on the living room floor. I pull them on, and my socks and shoes as well.

“My father died,” I say, forcing the words out of my mouth.

“Oh, Cole. I’m so sorry,” Jessa says. I can tell she means it. She moves closer to me, but doesn’t touch me. Good thing, because I don’t want anyone’s sympathy right now. I don’t say it, but Charlie Frost got what he deserved. The darkest, most rotten part of me is angry it didn’t happen sooner.

I see a car pull up out front and I’m tugging on my shirt just as Lucy bursts through the door. I scoop her up in my arms before she even knows what’s happening. When her eyes meet mine, she laughs riotously. It brings only the smallest of grins to my face, but it fills my heart.

“Where’d that girl go—oh, Cole,” Avery says when she comes in. “I was wondering whose car that was.”

Her tone makes it clear—my appearance isn’t a welcome surprise. I carry Lucy to the window and look out the see the truck parked out front.

“I gotta go,” I say to no one in particular.

“No!” Lucy calls, patting her little hands to my chest. “Let’s make pancakes!”

I kiss her soft head. “Next time, sweetheart,” I tell her.

When I set her down she runs into the kitchen, asking for juice.

“Off so soon?” Avery asks, and it’s like she’s saying I’m some dickhead bailing after a one-night stand.

I ignore her. Jessa follows me outside.

“Want me to go with you?” she asks.

I hop in the truck. “No. Stay here with Lucy.”

“Will you call me?” she asks as I start the engine.

“Sure,” I say.

But when, and why? I don’t want her being a part of something I’m not even sure I can handle. “Take care,” I say as I pull away from her house.

* * *

Over the next couple of days I feel nothing.

I help plan my father’s funeral, call the necessary people and schedule an appointment with his lawyer. Jessa sends me texts, asking if she can do anything for me or if I want to see Lucy. I appreciate how nice she’s being but I’m also starting to realize the messiness of my life, and my father’s death doesn’t exactly eliminate that.

I’m not ready to be somebody’s rock.

In fact, I’m sinking like a rock to the bottom of a deep ocean. I’m feeling as if I’ve lost some part of myself that I only dreamed I had in the first place.

Now I’m standing in front of the farmhouse, which is in need of as much maintenance and TLC as my father’s body needed. Both were ignored.

And just like my father’s life, it’s up to someone else to clean it up. I wanted to leave town and never look back, this time with Jessa—and Lucy—by my side. Now I have to deal with the house, the land, the farm, the few day employees who kept the farm from completely sinking under, and everything else that goes with it all. I hardly know where to begin.

I walk through the house feeling disgusted. Memories flood over me, thinking about the work I did here when I was a kid, all the chores outside and inside, giving up any social life when I should have been playing sports, dating and partying.

The floorboards are splitting, the stove is rusted and the refrigerator is leaking. The light fixture in the living doesn’t work, and it’s not the light bulb—probably electrical issues…

This place is a complete gut job. It’s also a complete headache. Not only will I have to pay for all this, but I’ll have to hire someone I trust to supervise it all. And I haven’t even assessed the fields or equipment yet. It’s going to take me a couple of weeks to get through it all. I wanted to get back to the city and work with my crew on the finishing touches of the documentary and move on with my life. Now I’m standing in thick mud and can’t seem to climb out.

* * *

I don’t shed a single tear at the funeral. Maybe that makes me a dick, but I can’t help it if I feel nothing. Nothing except the same anger I had bubbling inside me the last time I saw my father. His life—and mine—didn’t have to end up like this. I will not treat my own daughter the way he treated me—like hired help, but without the wages.

Jessa sits beside me at the funeral while her parents stay with Lucy. There aren’t many people here—I didn’t even want to do a proper funeral but Jessa convinced me to at least do something for my old man.

“I know he made mistakes in life,” she told me, “but he still deserves to be buried with dignity.”

So fine, I have a proper funeral where some of his old buddies and guys from the bar show up. Uncle Dan is pretty torn up.

“It’s my fault,” he says, his fat cheeks red and tears in his eyes. “I was supposed to help look after him and I mucked it up. I guess I just didn’t want to believe it was as bad as it was.”

Jessa rubs his back—she doesn’t even know the man—and tells him it wasn’t his fault.

“He’s been drinking too much for years,” she says. “It was bound to happen, sooner or later.”

I’m still amazed that she cares so much—to be here at the funeral, to comfort Uncle Dan and me.

After the funeral, there is a little talking, some food and drink, and then everyone goes their separate ways, promising not to wait until circumstances like this force us together again.

But I know we won’t be seeing most of these people anytime soon…

Jessa goes back to be with Lucy.

Now that the funeral is over, the lawyer needs to meet with me. Uncle Dan too. So we’re heading in for a meeting late this afternoon.

I text Jessa. Maybe seeing her after the meeting will make me feel better. I can’t deal with anything negative right now, and I’m sure being with her will lift my spirits—or at least temporarily forget my troubles.

We agree to meet at the bar of my hotel afterwards. I’m sure I’ll need a drink by then.

“Cole, good to see you, son,” Snapper Owens, the lawyer, says when I enter his office.

“Hello, Snapper. Good to see you too.” I sit down in chair behind his heavy oak desk. “Uncle Dan,” I say, and clap his shoulder.

“Real nice funeral,” Snapper says. “You did good by your daddy.”

“You sure did, Cole,” Uncle Dan says. He still looks miserable. I feel bad for the guy. He shouldn’t waste the energy.

“Thank you,” I tell them. “Shall we?” I don’t want to be rude but I definitely want get this over with.

“Sure, sure, let’s get to it,” Snapper says, opening the file on his desk. “All right gentlemen, here we go.” He takes a breath and begins to read. “I, Charles Raymond Frost, residing at 1 North Country Road, Morningside Valley, declare this to be my will, and I revoke any and all wills and codicils I previously made.” Snapper clears his throat, and continues reading. “I give all my tangible personal and professional property, including my residence, my land, and the entirety of my farm and all monies made within, to my brother, Daniel Leonard Frost. This includes all household goods, operating equipment, and all income earned from the operation of the farm. I also give my brother Daniel rights to all…”

Everything fades out and I hear nothing else. I’m staring at Snapper, clutching the edges of the document and pointedly refusing eye contact.

Did I hear this right? Everything goes to Uncle Dan?

I wait until Snapper has finished reading the entire will, thinking there’s something the old man left for me—maybe even a few kind words tossed in.

When it’s clear that everything is going to Uncle Dan and not a scrap left for me, I say in an eerily calm voice. “Is that all?”

Uncle Dan has his head in his palms, taking it all in. Snapper looks a bit guilty when he says, “You were probably expecting more, Cole. But this is it. I’m sorry, son.”

I hold up my hands. “Don’t be. Not at all. Been great seeing you.” I stand up and shake his hand. To Uncle Dan I say, “Have fun with the farm.”

“Cole, I didn’t know…” Uncle Dan begins

“Of course not,” I say. I squeeze his shoulder. “Everything’s fine. I just have a lot of work to do, and it’s about time I got on out of town. It was great seeing you both.”

With that, I am fucking out of here.