Burn (28 page)

             
It was Christy.

Twenty

Granny looking lady
was actually Gretel Wallace, the owner of the cabin – and the maker of the pancake mix as she so fervently talked on about. With her was her granddaughter, Christy. The girl had been perfection in my eyes when I’d first met her at Lucinda’s house all those months ago holding hands with Jaxon and staring at him like he was her knight in shining armour.

             
I was scowling at her. I didn’t want to scowl either, especially when she smiled widely at me when she greeted me at the steps. I just scowled and then muttered about Jaxon being inside. They trudged up the steps and into the cabin. I could hear their conversation. Jaxon’s anger had long passed and he was laughing.

             
Laughing!

             
Why couldn’t I have made him laugh?!

             
I joined them eventually and Jaxon was cooking up some more pancakes and I suddenly wished he’d put a shirt on. He offered Christy my plate and I watched her eat my pancakes. I fought internally – war of the Titans style – not to snatch the plate away from her and scream, “MINE!”

             
Instead, I watched her.

             
And scowled.

             
Gretel was a nice woman, but she was stern with Christy. Whenever Christy talked about wanting to do things like buy a new car because her current one was shit, she’d snap and say, “Christy, you finish your placement at the hospital first before you run off spending money on useless junk. Grow up, now.” I watched how deflated Christy was by her grand-mother’s words and felt a pang in my chest. The nicest girl in the world didn’t deserve to be treated this way.

             
By mid-morning, Gretel invited us into the touristy town for some shopping and sight-seeing. There were vineyards with wine tastings and lakes with small water falls. The nature was beautiful, making the town a lovely camping spot where you could fish and enjoy the water.

             
Before we left, I changed back into last night’s jeans and top. I had no make-up to put on. But going natural these days is hot, right? The gargoyle look was nothing to be self-conscious about…
Sigh.

             
Jaxon had changed into a white tight tee and camouflage shorts, looking every bit manly and rough: stubble cheeks, unruly hair and pressed lips. I awkwardly followed them out where he handed me the bike helmet, leaving me to buckle it on my own.

             
We tailed the red Prius all the way into the centre of town where the main streets were. I didn’t feel like I was in my body to experience the hours that passed by. Gretel thought it was impertinent to show us a historical mill where she revelled about the businessman who’d owned it almost a century ago. I had to pinch myself to stay awake as she droned on about the historical machinery used and how dangerous some of the jobs were for workers.

             
Ten million yawns later and we had lunch at a seafood restaurant with a built-in aquarium that bordered the walls of the entire place. I enjoyed this bit, watching the fish swimming around. The illusion of freedom right here… They swam and swam, but did they ever know they were trapped by glass walls? Or were they aware and content in their ignorance, allowing the control placed in someone else’s hands?
They’re fucking fish, Sara.

             
Yes, they were fucking fish but they represented something to me. I’d been trapped too, and maybe allowing Remy to have the control had been a way for me to accept it and make something good out of something I would have otherwise been broken apart by.

             
In the line-up on our way inside, I caught Christy pushing into Jaxon’s side. She was murmuring something in his ear, but I couldn’t hear amidst Gretel’s yammering at my own side about some kind of historical prison with convict art or some bullshit like that.

             
What the hell was she talking to him about? He talked back to her, too. Oh, what it would be like to be a fly on their wall!

             
I hated him for ignoring me. I hated her for touching him the way she was. I hated Gretel for being nice and telling me about shit I didn’t care about. I hated everyone here for just being here!

             
I wanted to go home. And home was him.

             
Why was he acting this way?

*****

After an insufferable day, we parted ways with Granny Gretel and Christy. Christy politely said good bye to me and then she hugged Jaxon tightly, whispering some more in his ear before she smiled angelically up at him. He nodded in return and watched her climb into the car.

             
They drove off as we stood on the sidewalk in the centre of town. The sky had dimmed as mid-afternoon slipped away. With a sinking feeling in my chest, I watched Jaxon’s eyes follow the car until it had disappeared from view.

             
“You want to grab something for dinner? There’s a good bar up the road that serves some good food.” He paused suddenly, flashing me questionable blue eyes. “That’s if you’re hungry.”

             
This was the first time he was actually talking solely to me since this morning’s mini-argument. I tried not to be bitter about that, so I nodded and said, “Yeah, I’m hungry. Lead the way.”

             
We walked only a couple minutes before we stopped at a large corner situated dive bar – probably the only bar in town, too, judging by the amount of people inside. There was a ruckus of noise within. I tried not to be weary, but my experience with bars thus far was unfavourable.

             
The restaurant and bar area inside were merged together. Smoke and radio music clouded the air. There were groups of people everywhere. Some were eating at the tables, others standing around the small, open dance floor next to dancing couples, drinking away. There was a pool table area where a couple televisions were propped in the corners on sports channels. Lots of chatter, lots of laughter; it seemed like a kick-back-and-relax-after-a-shit-day-watching-your-man-fawn-over-his-old-root kind of place. And I liked it very much.

             
We found a small table close to the bar. Jaxon slid the menu to me and I looked it over, reading the same lines over and over again. I truly wasn’t hungry. I’d had a plate of shrimp at the seafood place that had still filled me up. Jaxon watched me intently, and it was a foreign feeling having him focus only on me. When the waitress came around, I appeased him by ordering burger with fries and a tall mug of beer. Jaxon ordered the same.

             
While we were sitting in the loudest part of the bar, we had barely said a word to each other. I caught his eye every minute, but my voice was caught in my throat. Silence was all I could offer. After our orders were set in front of us and we’d begun eating, he finally spoke.

             
“I’m sorry for this morning,” he apologized, his voice soft. “I just don’t like you fading away into bones. I shouldn’t have pressed you about it. I shouldn’t have used the word disgusting. I didn’t mean it the way you think I did, but I can see why you’d think that.”

             
I nodded, grateful for the apology. “I’m sorry for calling you an asshole.”

             
He shot me a heart stopping half smile and my chest tightened. “You were always the most colourful verbal abuser. It was a bit weak for your taste.”

             
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. “To be honest, I haven’t called anyone a name in a very, very long time.”

             
His smile faded as he nodded slowly. He was withdrawing fast again, and I couldn’t understand what was so bad about what I’d just said. I’d have interpreted ten million meanings behind it, but I was sick of keeping this kind of shit to myself.

             
“What is it?” I asked firmly.

             
He shrugged. “If that’s the case, you must have been in a very… agreeable surrounding.”

             
I shot him a perplexed look. What was he on about?

             
I sighed when it dawned on me. Agreeable surrounding equalled to Remy and me. That I’d never been a colourful abuser to him. Well, if we were going to be honest, I never did call him any names. Ever. I let the awkward moment pass. I didn’t want to reassure him with a lie. His statement was true.

             
“So Christy, huh?” I raised my eyebrows at him in question. “That was very random.”

             
He licked his bottom lip – fuck the things that did to me – and nodded. “Yeah, well, I knew about the cabin and thought it was the perfect place to head off to.”

             
“You seem to be very well acquainted with her then. Her and her grandmother.”

             
“When we were…” his eyes lowered as he searched for the appropriate word.

             
“Okay,” I mumbled impassively. “I get it. When you were screwing her, right? Continue on.”

             
He glowered at me. “Right. Yeah, during that time, I offered to help her grandmother out with her medical bills. They don’t have a whole lot. Since then, I’ve been in Gretel’s favour.”

             
“Medical bills for what?”

             
“She has a lot of health problems, and around the time I was screwing Christy” - cue pointed look - “she needed a prosthetic implant in her hip. A surgery she couldn’t afford.”

             
“Oh.” Well, that was honourable of him as it wasn’t his responsibility to care for a root he’d told me once was nothing more. Surely he had feelings for her before I’d come along and destroyed what little they had.
Way to ruin a good thing, Sara.
I was being stupid, though. He was here because he wanted to be with me, and I was purposely sabotaging my good moments with anything I could use as a coping mechanism. I didn’t feel I deserved him, therefore I wanted to bring myself down every opportunity I could. I had to stop.

             
After I finished half of my burger, I quickly excused myself to the bathroom. I had a good mini-think in there. I had to keep this night nice and relaxed. I needed to warm up into his good graces.

             
I got out of the gritty bathroom stall and rinsed my mouth of the food I’d eaten. I splashed some cold water on my face and stared at my reflection. I pinched my cheeks before I left, trying to add some colour in the paleness of my face. Midway back to the table, a body shoved roughly into the back of me. I fell a step forward and felt a cold, wet sensation down my back and ass. Loud laughter erupted as I turned around and took in a large, stumbling, overweight man with a dripping, empty mug. His friends also cackled around him, pointing at my backside like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen.

             
“You got her good, Carl,” said one. “Better than last night’s girl.”

             
The overweight man grinned. “Can’t help the slip, you know? Shit happens.”

             
“Seems to happen frequently,” said another with a laugh.

             
“I’m a clumsy man.”

             
“You dirty pigs,” I cursed.

             
I felt heat behind me and turned my head to Jaxon. He looked at my soaked clothes with icy eyes before glaring back at the slob that had “mistakenly” spilled it on me.

             
“You better apologize to my girl,” he snapped.

             
Overweight slob grinned from ear to ear. “Looks like we got ourselves a macho man over here! Fuck off, man. I slipped. Not my fault your bitch was in my way.”

             
Jaxon gritted his teeth. “You got one more chance to fucking apologize.”

             
“Or what?”

             
“Or I’ll wipe this fucking floor clean with you.”

             
The grin fell from the slob’s face. He looked behind him and whistled to a messy man at the pool table. The man had been observing this scene, and so had most in the bar. It quieted as the man approached the slob with a pool stick in his hand. He handed it to Slob, and then his posse of drunken friends – five of them – stared threateningly at Jaxon.

             
“You’re fresh meat in town,” said Slob, “and you’re probably trying to prove yourself to your little slut here who walked into me on my way to the bar. She was probably looking for an excuse to have some of this.”