Chapter Three
Wren
I shifted my Jeep into park and jumped out onto the gravel driveway. The sound of the stones crunching underfoot was a delight. A reminder that I was back and safe at my cabin. And far away from that disgusting, boorish, devilishly handsome suit at the Quick-E Mart.
The entire drive down the mountain into the valley where my cabin was located had been rage-fueled. I had sped a little too fast on the corners, trusting on instinct alone to guide me safely down the mountain-side gravel road. I couldn’t get the stranger off of my mind. The smug way he had stared down at me while speaking to Mr. Krane. The way he busted into the place like he owned it and everyone inside. The cosmic gray swirl of his eyes. A warmth bloomed in the pit of my stomach, and I clenched my thighs against the leather of my driver’s seat.
“Fuck.”
I needed a life.
He was the first man I had seen who wasn’t white-haired. That probably explained my intense attraction to him. Because he clearly had no redeeming qualities besides his physique. Since when was I the type to fall for assholes?
I turned to grab my bag and six-pack from the jeep, and closed the door behind me with a quick shove of my foot.
It was time to drink some beer and forget about that trip to the Quick-E Mart before my head exploded.
I quickly trotted up the three short steps to my porch and opened the front door with ease – I rarely locked the damn thing. After learning that myself and my neighbor, George, were some of the only people who ever came to the lake I started leaving the door unlocked constantly. It was a refreshing change of pace from living in New York City where I didn’t feel safe walking down the street without some pepper spray in my bag.
Megan had scolded me when I told her about the freedom of living on the lake, and how fearless I felt living there. She just didn’t understand the peace of mind that came from isolated living. I desperately wanted to convince her to come stay with me for a few days so she could experience all of the things I had told her about. But she was always busy with work. It could be difficult to even rope her into a phone call with me.
I walked through the cozy living room, with its unlit fireplace and gigantic couch, and into the kitchen. It was simple; all of the basic necessities but nothing extra. A stove, a fridge, a two-basin sink. No dishwasher, no kitchen island. Only the basics. I loved it.
I considered cooking up the cheese noodles but opted to just crack a beer. Daylight was slowly creeping away, and I was eager to sit on my back deck to watch the sun fall behind the mountain range. The surface of the lake lit up in the most beautiful shades of orange and pink at sunset, and I did my best to watch it as often as possible.
After opening a bottle, I slipped away from my kitchen and out the back door onto my deck. The deck was wide, and a long wooden dock led out to the edge of the lake. I had a small metal boat tied to the dock, but had never used it. It hadn’t been warm enough yet, but with the arrival of summer I had been growing ever more antsy to use it.
I took a sip of my beer and relished the taste of the cold washing down the back of my throat.
This was everything I had ever wanted in life. Peace. Quiet. Being totally alone.
The only thing I was missing was the ability to work on my next novel.
“Shit.”
I’d almost forgotten my promise to Megan.
Setting the bottle down on the deck railing, I ran inside and grabbed my laptop off of the kitchen counter. Maybe I could get a few sentences in. A chill ran down the back of my spine at the thought. I really was completely blocked on how to continue this damn novel.
All thoughts of my novel and the upcoming deadline disappeared as soon as I opened my laptop. There was an alert on my screen about a new email.
RE: Your Next Book – Robert Harding
My stomach did a flip. An email from my father meant only one thing – he wanted money. And he wanted me to make it for him.
Years ago, when I was young and naïve, I used to let my father make my decisions for me. I had done a lot of things I had come to regret. I had done a lot of things a normal father would never ask his daughter to do.
All for money.
I hadn’t spoken to him in three years. Every time I tried to make amends with him he always looped the conversation back around to another business “proposition.” The thought of opening the email was enough to fill me with an anger that made my teeth clench.
Angrily, I gripped at my stomach and clenched my fingers around the knot growing inside me. I wanted to throw up and I hadn’t even opened the email yet. I could only imagine what was inside.
Taking a deep breath, I double clicked the notification and began to read.
RE: Your Next Book – Robert Harding
Wren,
I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to check in. How is your next novel coming along? I hope the Colorado air is doing miracles.
Perhaps I could come visit you some time? It would be nice seeing you.
I met with Corbin a few weeks ago. He wants to start another movie, and he’s looking for his female lead. He came to me and was asking about you. He had such a great time working with you in the past.
Take all the time you need to think about it. It would be good money.
His working title is “Cum Mistress: The Queen Takes it All”. Think Game of Thrones. Dragons, knights, double penetration.
I think you would be perfect for the part.
Get back to me soon.
XOXO, your father
My face flushed with red heat and anger and I slammed the laptop closed. He just didn’t get that I didn’t want to work with him anymore. I had left the porn industry years ago, after realizing that my father was basically selling me out to Corbin and taking most of the money for himself.
When I had been younger I thought it was a good opportunity for me. I still didn’t know what I had been thinking, besides that I was pressured by my father and blinded by the promises of riches.
Memories rushed up, and when I closed my eyes to lean back in my chair I remembered how it had felt being fucked on camera. One giant cock slamming into me from the rear while the other slid in and out of my mouth. All while my father watched from behind the camera. And Corbin. The man who promised to make me a star, who took full advantage of me, and made me fall deeper and deeper into a sex-filled nightmare.
Subconsciously, I gripped at my stomach, clawing at the empty feeling there.
A knock on my door brought me back to the present, and the darkness of my memories disappeared. A tiny fear crept up in the back of my mind, wondering what I would do if my father were standing on my doorstep. If, somehow, he had found the remote cabin I had disappeared to.
From across the living room I could see it was not my father through the front door window. George Spaniel’s red flannel hat was recognizable from a mile away. He wore it even on the hottest of days, his wispy white hair peeking out from the sides.
“Hey there, George,” I opened the door and made room for him to come inside.
His wrinkled face pinched as he smiled back at me. “Good afternoon, Wren.” He stepped into the doorway and looked around, his aged hands pinching away at the hem of his tan work shirt.
I frowned. “What’s going on?”
“I have something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he admitted. Worry-lines crinkled the corners of his gentle, soft brown eyes. “Could we step outside?” He didn’t wait for me to coalesce, and stepped back onto my porch.
I was clueless to what he wanted to talk to me about.
His hands gripped the wooden deck rail, and he didn’t look at me when he started to speak. “I’ve been in a bit of a tough spot lately.” He paused to take a deep breath.
My heart ached for him. I had no idea where the conversation was going to go. Over the time since I’d moved to Colorado, George had become more and more of a father figure to me. The kind who checked in to make sure I was okay, and occasionally brought over a bottle of wine to reminisce about old memories. Not the kind who sold me to porn directors.
I reached out to touch him gently on his forearm, which seemed to spook him back to into speaking. A reminder that I was there for him.
“I’m moving to Arizona to live with my brother and his wife.”
His words hit me in the chest like an anvil.
“What?” I stammered, my breath catching in my throat.
He nodded and closed his eyes. “It’s something I’ve been considering for quite some time now.”
“Tell me what’s wrong, George. Maybe…maybe I could help you?” I had no idea what I was going to be able to do for him. I just couldn’t fathom the cabin next to mine as empty. Or worse – a new neighbor. “You’ve lived here for nearly twenty years...”
“No, no. I can’t trouble you with my own life. Plus, maybe these hard winters are taking too much of a toll on these old bones. Maybe the heat will do something good for me.” He wrapped his fingers around my hand and squeezed. As if that simple gesture could convince me that this was something he needed to do. As if I shouldn’t worry about him.
“Maybe,” was all I could say. I didn’t want to make things harder for him. Or to let my own selfishness make his move harder for him.
“I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you.”
“Oh, please don’t worry about me George. When will you be leaving?” The painful sting of threatening tears welled at the corners of my eyes. I blinked furiously, refusing to give him any more reason to worry about me.
“Today, actually.”
I jumped back, alarmed by the suddenness of everything. Was my entire world falling apart around me?
“I’m sorry it’s late notice. I just couldn’t bear to tell you this. And there’s more I need to tell you about,” he shifted his hand back down to the deck railing, gripping it so tightly I could see the skin around his knuckles turning white.
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. My emotions were overwhelming me, shooting me up and down a roller-coaster, from shock to heartbreak to the struggle to be selfless and supportive for George.
“I’ll be renting out my cabin. Someone has already rented it out for the rest of the summer. They’re scheduled to get here today.” He broke his sentence off to take a deep breath and glanced over at me. “Soon.”
My lips quivered. So many drastic changes, and all being dropped in my lap in a span of seconds. It didn’t seem fair. To me, or to George. The sadness was visible in his face. In his eyes. It was clear he didn’t want to leave.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Part of me knew I was asking about him. “With your cabin, or anything, while you’re gone?”
While you’re gone. As if he’d be coming back at the end of the summer. In two months.
“Oh, I don’t want to burden you. I know you’re a busy young lady. But if you see anything bothersome? I know how much your cabin means to you. If these renters make your life in any way harder I want you to let me know right away. Can you do that?” He stepped forward and took my hands in his, searching my eyes for an honest answer.
I blinked to keep the tears at bay and nodded, letting a swoop of brown hair fall down into my face. “I promise, George.”
“You’re a beautiful young woman, Wren. You’re going to do great things.” He pulled my fingers up to his lips and gave my knuckles a soft kiss before walking around me to the stairs.
“I’ll call you from Arizona. And don’t take any shit from anyone,” he warned me playfully even as he was shuffling down the gravel pathway.
“I promise!” I shouted out to him as a final reminder.
I managed to wait for George’s flannel cap to disappear in the distance before I fell into a pile on my front porch. Wrapping my arms around my legs, I pulled myself into a tight ball and let the tears flow. My body shook against the pain, tears streaming down my face as my body withered into silent sobs.