It’s been six weeks since the bear accident. Dad—Reed—is better. He walks around, chops wood, hunts, and does a million other chores. And then when we fall into bed at night, he relentlessly makes love to me. We’re careful to always pull out, aside from the one or two accidents in the beginning.
I’m so thankful he’s back to normal though because lately, I’m exhausted. Winter is harsher than I could have imagined. The wildlife is plentiful here but I’m dying for something besides meat. We try not to touch our canned foods we have from the RV and trailer but twice now I’ve begged—and offered sexual favors in exchange—for a can of fruit.
My stomach grumbles at the thought of more peaches.
When I roll over onto my stomach to silence my grumbling belly, I’m sad to see Dad is already out of bed and nowhere to be found. I get a whiff of the meat we’ve stored in the cave and it turns my stomach. Gagging, I clamber out of bed and grab the bucket just in time to expel my guts.
I’m sitting there feeling sorry for myself when a thought occurs to me.
I haven’t started my period.
Counting backward, I realize I’ve gone nearly two months with no cycle.
Oh, God.
And I’m nauseous this morning.
Oh, God.
My boobs are sore and I’m incredibly fatigued.
Oh, God.
When I bring my palm to my stomach, I notice that it’s slightly swollen. I’d not paid much attention before but now I’m cataloging everything.
I’m pregnant. I have to be. At seventeen.
Instead of fretting like a normal human would, my heart swells with happiness. A baby. We made a baby. Out of love. It won’t be just us two all alone. Happy tears stream down my cheeks. I want to tell Dad but I’m afraid of how he’ll react. He’s been grumpy lately and I don’t know why. I think he’s stressed about something but I’m not sure what. I’ll have to tell him next time he’s in a playful mood.
When I hear his boots clomp up on the porch, I let out a squeak and quickly snag a hoodie to pull on over my head. He steps inside, a cold rush of air sweeping in with him, and regards me with a frown.
“What?” I sound guilty and desperately try to hide it. I’m glad the bucket is in the corner. I’ll have to get rid of the puke when he’s not watching.
“Bears. I saw two more while out.”
Panic rises up in my chest. This place is crawling with bears. “Do they smell the skin of the dead one?”
He rolls his eyes and my chest clenches in pain. “They don’t give a damn about the hide drying out in that tree. They’re curious about our cabin though. I found claw marks near the door like one was trying to figure out how to get in.”
Terror skitters through me. “What do we do?”
He frowns. “I’m going to have to fortify our home better and set some traps.” His eyes are tired and he looks older today as if he badly needs a nap. “Are you going to lay in bed all day like your goddamned mother or help?” he snaps.
I gape at him in confusion. What the heck is his problem today? “Reed—”
“Just put some clothes on and help me. There’s a ton of shit to do,” he barks out and storms from the cabin.
I burst into tears.
“I’m tired,” I whine, my arms weak from holding the heavy pine tree on one end.
He ignores me as I trudge through the snow behind him. It’s been a week since I figured out I was pregnant. Each day is the same. Morning sickness. Fatigue. Sore breasts. Cravings for that stupid fruit. But what’s the worst is that I cry at the drop of a hat. This seems to make Dad mad every time. He hasn’t touched me in I don’t know how long and I spend my nights sniffling in the darkness. I don’t know what to do.
“Put it down,” he barks out when we’re near the cabin.
I drop the thin tree on my end and dust off my gloves. He drops to his knees and whips out his knife. Just like he’s done the other twelve trees so far, he starts carving one end into a sharp point. He’s driving each one into the earth, braced by a fence-type thing he made and pointing the sharp end away from the cabin. His theory is that if a bear comes up, they’ll impale themselves on the wood long before they ever get to us. The spiked trees are horrifying to look at—like we’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse or something. Dad doesn’t care though. He throws himself into his job.
While he works, I let my mind drift to the past. When he never looked at me with angry eyes.
Snakes.
Everywhere.
Eating me alive.
It’s the same nightmare I’ve had for four years, ever since my brother died from a snake bite.
“Daddy!”
Mom told me last time I screamed for her during a bad dream that I was too old to be having nightmares. So now I just call for my dad. He always comes. He always saves me.
I hear his bedroom door bang against the wall as he runs from his room. Heavy footsteps make their way quickly to my room. The door gets flung open and soon he’s sitting on the edge of my twin bed.
“Everything okay, Pip? Snakes again?”
I start to cry because the nightmares remind me of my brother. Dad grabs the blanket and lifts it so he can join me in the bed. As I sob, he pulls me against his warm chest and holds me. Each kiss on the top of my head warms and soothes me.
“I’m sorry I woke you up,” I whisper.
He strokes my hair. “I’ll always come for you. No matter what. If you need me, I’ll be there. I love you, Devon. It’s my job as a parent to protect you.”
Bitterness creeps up my throat. “Mom doesn’t like it when I have the nightmares.”
He lets out a soft sigh. “I know. Your mom is dealing with her own issues that don’t involve you. Sometimes, she takes them out on you and it isn’t right. I’m sorry.”
“Sometimes I wish it were just us,” I whisper, mostly to myself. It’s the truth though. Dad and I have more fun without Mom. When she’s smiling, I love it. But she hardly smiles or engages.
“Don’t say stuff you don’t mean,” he says firmly, his body tense.
I sniffle. “I do mean it though. She’s not like the other moms. It’s embarrassing.”
He takes my hand and we thread our fingers together. “She has her reasons.”
“What reasons?”
I can hear his teeth grinding together. “Nothing you need to worry yourself over.”
I can’t fathom what her reasons could be for treating her surviving child and husband as if they are a bother to her.
“I wish she was like you. You’re the best.”
He snorts. “Hardly, Pip. I’m a very flawed individual.”
“Lies,” I say, laughing.
“I’m serious. I put on a good show for you but I’m far from perfect. I’m a moody bastard and I lose my temper.”
“But I never see it,” I argue.
His hand squeezes mine. “Because I do my very best to keep that from you. You don’t need to see my bad days and when I lose control. I keep things to myself to protect you because I love you. One day, you’ll understand this.”
I drift off thinking he’s yanking my chain because to me, he’s perfect.
I sniffle as the memory fades. Maybe he’s hiding something to protect me. He’d warned me long ago that he had his own fair share of issues. I just wish he’d talk to me. I’m frowning when I swear I hear voices. Dad is grunting as he shaves the wood and is making all kinds of racket. I stand and walk away from him to get a better listen. My ears are perked up trying to hear.
“Jesus Christ, Devon,” Dad growls. “There’s too much shit to do to be standing around. Go make yourself useful.”
My jaw drops as I stare at him. His back is turned to me and he’s tense.
“I think we should talk,” I murmur.
“Goddammit, go inside before I get my belt.”
Hot tears well in my eyes and I run toward the cabin. When I see the bear hide that I’ve been working on for weeks, washing and oiling, I decide it’s good enough. With a huff, I yank it down from the side of the cabin and haul the heavy thing inside. I have to pull out my knife so I can cut it to fit the space. I make sure to put the longest, thickest strip between the mattress and the fireplace. Then, I use the extra pieces to cover other parts of the cabin floor. After kicking off my shoes, I almost shout out with excitement that we officially have carpet. I want to holler at Dad and make him come look but he’s too pissy. Once I shimmy out of my jeans, I put my yoga pants back on and settle for one of his warm sweatshirts. My stomach growls. Since I’m in trouble anyway, I sneak into the cave and steal a can of peaches from the back. It has a pull top so I rip off the lid and gobble down each peach before slurping down the juice. When I hear him coming, I hide it away in the back of the cave.
The door bursts open and I swivel around, a guilty look on my face.
He sniffs the air and I know I’m busted. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me, Devon.”
Anger rises up inside of me. Screw him for treating me like this with no explanation. I lift my chin. “I ate a can of peaches.”
His features darken and he stalks over to me after he shuts the door. He strikes out at me with his strong hand to grip my jaw. With each breath he takes, his nostrils flare. “Got something else to tell me?”
I swallow and shake my head. Now is definitely not the time to tell him I’m pregnant.
He scowls. “I can’t take you fucking lying to me.”
“And I can’t take you acting like a giant asshole,” I snap back.
“Don’t you dare take that tone with me, young lady,” he snarls in his most authoritative dad voice.
I scoff at him. “Really? Now you want to play the part of daddy? I bet you want to spank me again too.”
“Maybe you need your ass whipped!” he roars, his grip on my jaw tightening.
I shake him away and slap his face. We both stare at each other in shock. He growls and it pisses me off so I slap him again. Over and over until he grips my shoulders and turns me around before pushing me face first into the cave. I struggle but then he’s pulling my pants down. His belt flies off with a swoosh and he whips me with it. Fire slices across my bottom and I scream. He hits me again.
“I hate you!”
“I wish you actually did!”
I’m sobbing when the belt gets tossed to the floor. He shuffles behind me and then his cock is pressed between my thighs. With a rough thrust, he drives deep inside of my sex.
“Oh, God,” I whimper. I look over my shoulder and stare down my feral man. Heartbreak shines in his eyes and I don’t understand it. I cry harder as I try to touch him. “I love you, Dad. Please don’t be mad at me.”
His touch is soft as he wraps his arms around my middle and lifts me. Our bodies are flush and he leans me against the cold stone wall. He kisses me hard on the neck and I turn my head in desperation to meet that kiss with my mouth. Our mouths mate in a wild way as he bucks against me. His hands are all over me. My stomach. My breasts. My clit.
I cry out when my orgasm hits. He sucks on my tongue and drains himself inside of me. Does he know? He’s been pulling out each time. The moment we come down from our high, he pulls out and scoops me in his arms. I’m carried over to the bed where he sets to stripping me the rest of the way down. His mouth worships my body while I sob. When I chance a look at him, his eyes are red and teary as he splays his palm over my stomach.
“I was so mad when I realized you were pregnant. I counted the days. Watched the signs,” he breathes against my flesh. “I can’t lose you, Devon. I can’t fucking lose you.”
I sob so much I think my chest will explode as I finger his overgrown hair.
“I want to have this baby with you,” he chokes out. “So bad. But so help me if you die, I’ll shove my .45 into my mouth and take my life. I can’t do this without you, baby. I can’t fucking do this.”
We spend the rest of the day curled around each other making sweet love. He apologizes over and over again.
“Your mother saw me lose my cool plenty of times,” he tells me, his voice sad after supper. “I’m moody when I’m pissed. Unfairly, I took it out on you.”
“It’s okay, Reed.” Earlier I slipped up and called him Dad.
“It’s not okay,” he breathes. His mouth trails down my throat to my collarbone. “You’re too sweet and perfect to deal with that. I fucked up.”
“Isn’t that what couples do? Fight and then make up?” I ask.
He lifts his gaze and smiles. “I suppose so. The makeup sex was pretty damn hot, I’ll admit.”
It was angry and animalistic.
Brutal and fierce.
I came so hard I saw stars.
“It was,” I agree. “But next time you’re mad, talk to me. It’s too lonely out here to be alone. You’re the only other person I have. When you don’t talk to me or you yell at me, I feel so lost. Please promise you’ll try.”
He kisses his way down to my stomach. “I promise to you and our little baby here that I’m going to be the best dad ever.”
I hold out my pinky and he takes it.
He always does.