Hiding her face when he turned back to her, Alessia justnodded when he told her he was going back out. Waiting to hear his boots godown the porch stairs, Alessia got up and limped to the bathroom. Bracingherself against the porcelain sink, she looked in the mirror. A small band-aidJax had placed covered up some of the cut at her hairline, the rest was just athin streak of dried blood lost in the thickness of her hair. She didn’t botherlooking at the other two cuts, she didn’t care.
She didn't care about anything, actually. The feeling ofbeing lost in the middle of a storm permeated her very being. When did he getlike this? What wrong path did she go down? Alessia could clearly remember theday she confessed to her ex a year ago about the situation in her household.She expected, hoped even, for his outrage, or for him to put a loving armaround her shoulder and tell her everything would be all right. But he said anddid nothing, he just sat on the couch and gave her an uncomfortable look as ifpreparing himself for the other shoe to drop. She ignored the signs and pressedfurther. Signs that in hindsight, were very obvious to her now. Summoning upthe courage to ask him to let her stay, that was the first time she experiencedthat "look”. That worn, tired look filled with discomfort. When herex broke up with her, he told her it was because he couldn’t love her as muchas she loved him and it made him feel guilty.
He was lying.
The truth was, he was tired of her “personal issues,”as he once referred to them, he didn’t want to carry the weight of her problemsplus his. After that, it seemed that daunting, tired expression followed her toanyone and everyone she was close to, spreading like a virus. From her ex, itspread to her friends, traveling to her mother, to finally anyone who listenedto her problems. After a while, she just stopped talking about her problems.
Jax’s eyes held that same look earlier. He was getting tiredof her issues, tired of dealing with her altogether.
It was time to go.
Chapter 10
Revving the engine to his four-wheeler, Jax pushed themachine up and over a small hill, dragging behind him the small attachedtrailer of cut wood. When he left the cabin that morning the sun was justcoming up through the trees, spilling golden light over the forest but offeringlittle to no warmth. Today the wind was strong and cold enough to force him towear gloves and a cap.
Waking up that early had been a calculated move on his part,he needed time away from those ever-watchful catlike eyes. When he found herlying on the ground hurt and bleeding, he was livid. Livid that he didn't warnher about the loose shelf and angry with her for forcing him to feel a level offear he hadn't felt in years. He was lucky he was still in hearing distance ofthe toolshed to respond. He called out her name to see what was wrong when heheard the crash. When he didn’t hear anything back, his stomach dropped.
Anger had always been his first emotion to turn to. From thefootball field to the battlefield, every one from his high school coach to hissergeant taught him to use his quick temper to his advantage. In high school,his coach used to tell him that his anger was his fuel, it made him faster,stronger, and proficient. The volatile emotion had been his edge duringimpossible times in his military career, giving him the needed strength to pullhim out of nearly any situation. Years of relying on one emotion came rushingback to him when he found Alessia lying injured on the floor of his toolshed.
It was her hurt expression that he couldn’t stop thinkingabout now. He wanted to create some distance between them, to put a wall intheir relationship that would constantly warn him about the line he shouldn’tcross. But seeing the pained look in her eyes every time he snapped at her waskilling him. He wanted distance, but not like this. Watching the confidentspark that usually lit her beautiful brown eyes die in a sea of pain was like aslow death.
Stopping his four-wheeler next to his truck, Jax let his headhang back with a sigh. He had to fix this rift between them.
Opening the screen door, he paused. A million thoughtsrushed through his head on what to say and how to say it. Nothing sounded good.If he was being completely honest with himself, a large part of him hoped thatshe would just be her normal smiling self and they could just move on from thismoment without discussion. It was the image of her back to him, curled up onthe loft when he came back inside yesterday that haunted him, however. She hadgone to bed without eating and without another word. There was no easy way outof this, he sighed, he was going to have to face this problem he created.
Stepping through the threshold, Jax froze with his handstill on the open-door handle. The cabin was empty. The welcoming warmth he hadgrown accustomed to in the past month or so had completely vanished. Lookingup, he saw the thin white futon she used for the loft neatly rolled back upjust as it was before. Her giant mustard-colored bag she stored in thecorner—gone. With a quick searching gaze, Jax spotted the note lying near thesink. Like flint hitting steel, a simmering rage sparked to life in his gut ashe stepped forward, grabbing the paper.
“Thank you, Jax. Thank you for everything you have donefor me. No one’s ever been as generous as you have been. But I think it will bebest if I leave, though. It isn’t fair for me to disrupt your peaceful life anyfurther. I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused and thank you again.
Goodbye.”
His peaceful life, Jax nearly barked with laughter. Themoment he met Alessia, his "peaceful life” had been turned on itsside. There was no going back now and there certainly weren’t going to be anygoodbyes, not like this.
~*~
Instead of walking towards Gaulding, Alessia had taken thehighway east, back in the direction she initially came. Readjusting the bagstrap on her shoulder, Alessia grimaced, the bag felt heavier than the lasttime she wore it.
Staying along the natural ditch that ran along the asphaltroad, Alessia had to resist from turning to look back at every sound of a carthat passed by. It was beyond foolish to hope to see Jax’s familiar truck comeracing down the road towards her.
That isn’t going to happen, so stop imagining it, shementally yelled at herself.
When Jax finally stepped out of the cabin that morning, shemade sure she wasn't long behind. Dressing quickly, Alessia layered on every warmpiece of clothing she had for the journey. The only thing she took her time onwas the note. All night she rehearsed and revised the note in her head. Therewere so many things she wanted to say, and so much she ended up leaving out.Wiping the tears from her face, she tried to commit to memory every detail ofthe cabin before closing the door.
She had been walking for nearly three hours, and her leg wasthrobbing. The cut on her thigh was beginning to hurt with every movement.Eventually, the pain became too much. Walking further away from the road, sheleaned against a tree. Wow, this is pathetic, she thought. It hadn’t even beenhalf a day and she was already like this. It probably should have been given atleast a week to heal, but she couldn’t take that risk. She had to go.
A squealing car passed by where she was standing. Loud andscreeching the beat-up car disturbed the scenic mountain road so much Alessiacouldn’t help but stare after it. Watching it noisily descend the hill, shestared perplexed as its brake lights flashed at the bridge about a half-miledown. Pulling to a crawl along the bridge, the car steered close to the thickcement guard wall. Squinting, Alessia watched as a hand popped out of thewindow with something in its hand. Tossing something over the side of thebridge, the car’s brake lights disappeared and the car pulled away with alouder squeal.
“Who litters in the woods?” A bunch of losers that’s who,she answered herself. It would have been less work just throwing it away whenthey got to their destination.
Feeling as rested as she was going to get, she began walkingagain. After a while, she came to the bridge. Nosily, she peered over theguardrail to see what was thrown away. Below her was a narrow creek, the watertrailing across the rocks was so clear, she was positive it was ice-cold. Alittle further down the stream, she spotted the gray item that was tossed outthe window. It was a plastic bag. The bag was tied at the top and appearedfull. Caught on a rock, the bag bobbed up and down against the choppy current.
Turning back towards the road, Alessia took a few stepsforward before looking back to the bag one more time. Was the bag bobbing inthe water or was the bag moving on its own? She stared at its movements for afew more seconds. The bag made a crinkling sound.
Alarmed, Alessia rushed back to the side of the bridge offthe road and dropped her bag to the ground. Navigating the steep embankment,Alessia let out a clipped cry as she tripped and slid on her butt the rest ofthe way down. Ignoring the dirt on her jeans and the throbbing in her leg,Alessia half ran half limped to the edge of the stream.
The crinkling sounds of the bag increased.
There was definitely something alive in the bag!
