Chapter 9

Fox

“Why you moving out of the downtown apartment?” Tyler, the realtor, asked me while guiding me through the barren cabin on the outskirts of town. “Guys like you, I’d think you’d like to be a part of the action. You know, say in town, near the bars… near the women.”

I placed my finger on the stone of the fireplace, feeling at the gritty texture. “Something about being in that town brings back some bad memories for me,” I told him, giving him a wry smile. “Maybe getting out in the woods will clear things up. I don’t know.”

“Ha. Another man, running away from his problems. I get it,” Tyler said. He gestured at the log cabin: the dark oak walls; the deer head hanging in the corner; the king-sized bed tucked in the corner, a single, thick blanket folded atop it. “This is what you’re looking for, then. This is the best cabin on this side of Lake Lemon. And, if you do have a hankering for a drive into town, it’s only ten minutes.”

I shifted in my leather jacket, trying to envision my life out between the trees. Out there, my thoughts would echo between four walls. I wouldn’t be able to just dart across a couple streets and fall into Talia’s arms. And I wouldn’t have to drive past the old, rickety house where my father and Andrew and I had lived out those formative years, screaming at one another, our fists clenched.

“I’ll take it,” I said, my voice firm. “And I want to move in immediately. You got a good mover you can recommend? I have a piano – a baby grand – so I need a delicate touch.”

“Sure thing,” Tyler said, his eyes glittering with the success of the sale. These assholes were all the same, across Los Angeles, the Midwest, New York. Everywhere, eager to have you suck them off and toss them a quarter-of-a-mill, in an afternoon. “I can suit you up just fine. Have your piano out here by day’s end, if you want.”

“Great.”

I’d decided I couldn’t go back to Talia’s. I knew I was a storm in that environment, forcing emotions on Talia, and fueling Lily-Rose with a kind of fire. With each second I spent at their place, I yanked them further toward false hope. It was unkind.

And yet, ever since our night of passion, I hadn’t been able to force Talia from my mind. I woke up in sopping sheets, my cock hard and throbbing against my leg, yearning for her. Just the night before, I’d wrapped my hand around the girth of my dick, feeling at the weight of it. My fingers had found the familiar veins, reaching for the tip of my cock where a small drip of cum peeked out. God, I wanted to fuck her brains out again. I wanted to hear her call my name.

Eager to throw my mind into something else, I helped the movers with my things, made sure they took care of the piano. I packed up my guitars in their cases, slipped the large painting into many sheets of protectant paper and cardboard, and then drove my car out into the forest, guiding the men behind me. Within hours, the cabin was brimming with the souvenirs of my life. And as twilight ascended, I tucked out into the woods, finding several fallen logs and hacking into them with an ax, tossing them into the fireplace and creating a roaring flame. I brooded that night, sipping whiskey and glaring into the orange light. I drank until I couldn’t feel my passion for Talia any longer, and until Marissa’s face flickered out of my consciousness. Finally, I was allowed the solace of darkness.

Talia’s text awoke me in the morning. My head was weary, heavy against the pillow. Blinking at my phone, I read: Someone said you moved out of the apartment. Don’t tell me you’re gone for good. It would break Lily-Rose’s heart.

I typed back almost immediately, wanting to quell the uneasiness in Talia’s heart.

I’m at a cabin at Lake Lemon. I have the piano here. Bring Lily-Rose this afternoon. I’m ready for our next lesson. Call me for directions.

Talia cranked her car down the long, gravel driveway later that day. Lily-Rose bolted from the passenger seat, waving a chaotic hand as she dove toward me. I hugged the little girl a bit too tightly, for the first time acknowledging the depth of my loneliness. Talia didn’t wave from the car. Rather, she glanced back and sped away from us, cutting between the trees. Watching her go did something to me. So often, I’d felt that my presence was enough to keep her locked in, waiting. But she was skittish now, preparing for me to disappoint her.

I knew she was right.

“Lily-Rose, we’re going to play something a little softer, a little more beautiful today,” I told her, displaying the piano book before us. “When you’re learning to play the piano, you have to understand that all the emotion you feel while playing, it comes out in the way you touch the keys. See?” I began to stream my fingers across the keys, falling into a gorgeous ballad. The chords were minor, deep, ripping through my heart.

Lily-Rose tried her best to match me, occasionally playing a chord that resonated through the cabin and created a coziness, a softness. “That’s it!” I told her, watching as her fingers grew stronger. “You’re building emotion, Lily-Rose. That’s exactly right.”

After an hour, I heard Talia’s wheels crunching on the gravel outside. Lily-Rose hopped to her feet, calling out Talia’s name. When she reached the cabin porch, she waved to her. “Aunt Talia! You have to come hear what I did! I can play my feelings!”

Talia’s eyes didn’t meet mine as she entered. Her hair stirred around her face, and her lips were pressed together tightly. Lily-Rose guided her toward the piano, perching on the bench and playing a stream of heart-breaking minor chords, ending with a major one. Her motions were sure, somber, so unlike those of the child who’d had a volatile breakdown only days before.

“Wow, Lily-Rose,” Talia murmured. “You’re going to make me cry.”

With a tender motion, Talia reached forward and pressed her lips to Lily-Rose’s forehead. For the first time since her arrival, her eyes met mine. Tension filled my heart, forcing me to say something, to do something.

“Can I get you something to drink?” I asked, hating that I suddenly felt flustered. Who the hell was I? What was I trying to do here?

“Okay,” she murmured. “But we can’t stay long.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Lily-Rose whispered into Talia’s ear, glancing back at me. “I love it here.”

Without waiting for Talia’s response, I walked toward the kitchen, pouring Talia and myself a glass of red wine, along with an orange juice for Lily-Rose. As I did, Lily-Rose walked toward the couch and lay herself across it, her feet up. Her blonde hair streamed behind her, looking angelic, and her eyelashes began to flutter against her cheeks.

Talia chuckled lightly, taking her glass of wine. “Sometimes when kids are conked out, you can’t do anything but let them sleep.”

I didn’t know what to say. I stood, trying not to stare at the beautiful curve of Talia’s cheeks, at the point of her nose, at the way her dark hair caught the last of the summer sunlight. In the silence, Talia rippled her fingers across the keys, beginning to play an old fifties’ love song. As she played, her lips found the words.

“Oh, baby, please don’t go,” she sang softly. “I’m wide awake at three a.m., praying you’ll come home.”

The song was familiar, one my mother had sang in the kitchen. The image was hazy, rippling with nostalgia. After a moment, I reached for my acoustic guitar and began to strum alongside Talia’s piano. As I played, Talia’s voice grew more confident. Her eyes were drawn toward mine, shining with emotion. I joined her, singing the harmony beneath her, finding that deep baritone I’d abandoned for the screeching passion of rock.

“Oh, baby. I won’t leave you again,” I sang, feeling my heart swell. “If only our hearts will mend.”

We eased into the final chords, until the song was finished. Silence set in, a comfortable one, allowing us to breathe. On the couch, Lily-Rose slept on, looking like a little doll, her hands crossed over her stomach. Again, I felt a surge of love for both of them.

“You know, when Marissa died,” I began, my eyes searching the ground, “she was pregnant with our child. But I didn’t even know.”

Talia’s hands dropped to her thighs. A look of desperation took over her. Standing, she took several steps toward me, drawing her fingers over my bicep, and then my stomach.

“Fox. I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes now filled with tears. “I have no words for that. Except that you didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s the thing, Talia. In some ways, it was…” I trailed off, feeling a wave of regret fill my stomach. “If I hadn’t brought her to the club that night. If I hadn’t become the kind of man I was –”

“It can’t matter now. You’re here,” Talia whispered, almost pleading with me. “You have to forgive yourself, move forward.”

But I blinked at her, devastation filling me. Gripping her hands with mine, I led them to my lips, kissing the tips of her fingers. “You’re so wonderful, Talia. Any man would be so lucky to have you,” I told her, “including me – most of all me.”

Talia’s voice cracked as she spoke. “You know I want you.”

The words were like a knife through my chest. I nodded. Flashing images of the night we’d fucked—her tits bouncing, her wet pussy lips opening for me, so soft and pink, filled my mind.

“I want you, too,” I said. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for love anymore. I tried it for a while. I really fucking did. But it doesn’t work out. People leave, as you know. Or they die. Or they just don’t live up to your unrealistic expectations of them. Which, if I’m being honest, is what’s happening between us already. I’m a piece of shit, Talia. I can’t handle myself, let alone whatever this is.”

Talia nodded slowly, allowing a single tear to drop down her cheeks.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I understand.”

We stood just a few inches apart, no longer touching. In the silence, Talia reached for her wine and sipped it, glancing back toward Lily-Rose’s sleeping form.

“I think you’re helping her more than either of us know,” she said. “More than I ever could alone.”

“She’s going to be great at that concert,” I told her.

“And you really won’t play?” Talia asked. “Even though you know I don’t expect anything from you? Even though we’re just going to stay friends?”

I shrugged slightly, gesturing toward the log cabin. “I can’t get more involved in that town, Talia. I don’t want to hang around with my asshole brother. Or contribute a single cent to that community center. I’m sorry.”

“It’s just, community’s all we have, you know?” Talia interrupted. “It’s a sense of family, especially when you don’t have one. Bilkington saved me after my mother and sister died. It gave me a sense of purpose.”

I couldn’t answer her. Her words drummed around my head, sounding almost nonsensical. I got up and began to drop logs into the fireplace, still sensing her eyes upon me. I wouldn’t argue with her. The tension continued to sizzle. I felt sure I would either scream at her, or thrust her against the bed and fuck her brains out.

I had to avoid either.

“Okay,” Talia murmured. “Point taken.”

Minutes later, I helped carry Lily-Rose to the car, slipping her beneath her seatbelt. I watched them pull away down the gravel driveway, disappearing into the grey of the forest. Finally, I was allowed what I’d said I wanted: peace. And quiet. And loneliness.

Yet every inch of me itched to run after them.