Cason
I stirthe canned soup over the gas stove. It’s beef stew but I dressed it up with some of the fresh onion and garlic my dad brought over. He brought us enough food and produce to last a week. If this goes on longer than that, he’ll bring us more, but after that, he’ll probably cut us off. I have to have her back to Michail by then.
I frown at the fact she thinks she needs protection from me. She’s here because I’m trying to keep her safe. If I didn’t care, I would’ve taken care of her, and made her disappear, creating a trail so that Michail thought she ran off or something and wouldn’t return. I’ve done some pretty elaborate cover stories in my day when we don’t want people digging into kills.
He would’ve bought it for a while, at least long enough for me to change my identity and get away, my family would’ve figured out something. I’m glad I didn’t do that. Now I just have to face the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life, make Josie trust me again. I don’t know how I’m going to do it. All I can do is be patient and also not tell her how I feel about her in the process. That wouldn’t be good for anyone. I nearly said something back there.
There’s no way she feels the same way I do, not with the stoic look that came over her face when I hinted at something. She doesn’t see me like I see her. It makes sense. She grew up with me. Maybe this time together? without our lives getting in the way? will help me look at her like a brother again, and I can stop having these feelings for her. That’s what would be best for everyone. The promise will forever keep us from being together, and I can’t go against my family.
With the garlic becoming fragrant and the onion translucent, I take it off the heat and grab two bowls. I don’t know if she’ll be willing to eat with me, but I’m going to try. The TV in this place hasn’t worked in years, even with one of those digital boxes that picks up on free access TV signals, it’s only static on every channel. All we have for entertainment is a bookshelf of books, staring outside at nature, and each other. My dick can think of a thousand ways we could entertain each other, but I’m not going to suggest any of them.
As the soup cools in the bowls, I butter some french bread and put the slices on a plate for us to share before moving to place them in my arms, balancing them precariously as I unlock the door. I pray that she won’t try and jump me to get out. That would suck to drop and break the only two bowls we have.
She’s not waiting for me to come in however, she’s lying on her side under the quilt I was going to use on the couch, but now it’s hers. I can be cold on the couch, I’ve slept in worse situations. Her eyes are closed, but I can tell she’s not sleeping, her breathing isn’t soft or even enough.
“I have food. You need to eat. I won’t have you starving on me.”
Her blue eyes open and she looks up at me. With a sigh, she sits up and crosses her legs. She takes a bowl from me and I set the plate of bread down on the bed next to her.
She stares at the stew in the bowl, not moving to eat any of it. I stand in front of her. “Can I eat in here with you? We don’t need to talk.” I mostly want to make sure she eats. When she was a teenager she had a bad habit of not eating when she was stressed and I don’t want that to happen to her again.
Her head pulls back to stare up at me and she raises a brow. “You don’t have to ask me permission. You can do whatever you want. You already have.”
I cringe. I suppose I deserve that. I pull the wooden chair over and straddle it. I rest my arms on the back. I hope this position puts her more at ease because there’s something between her and me. I cradle the warm bowl in my hands and stare at a cubed carrot for way too long before I glance back up at her. She’s at least now holding her spoon and moves it around. Hopefully, she’ll take a bite soon.
I clear my throat. “Josie, I want to say?”
Her head snaps up. “You said we don’t need to talk. I’m still thinking.”
Leaning forward I grab a piece of bread and bite into it. Normally I love a piece of good, buttered bread, there’s nothing better. I just wish she was enjoying the meal as well and things were like they used to be. That we were just eating together like old times. All I want is for things to feel like old times.
She finally takes a piece of bread and dips it in the soup before taking a bite. Relief floods me. Despite what she thinks, I just want the best for her. I eat more, the silence between us is almost deafening. I’m so used to her talking, every time I see her she leads our conversation. My mind goes back to the message I got from her right before the proverbial shit hit the fan. I didn’t see it until after we got to the cabin and she was still knocked out.
She’d wanted to talk about something, but I don’t know if that’s still the case. I want to ask her, I want to say something.
“How long have you been killing people?”
My eyes widen as she looks at me. Out of all the questions I was expecting to get from her first, that wasn’t one of them. “You want to know that, really?”
She nods. “How long?”
“Since I was eighteen, so for fifteen years. My dad started training me then.”
Her eyes widen. “So you were killing people at the same time you would babysit me?”
I grimace. “Yes.”
She goes back to eating her soup before she finishes it and puts the bowl off to the side. She remains cross-legged as she stares at me. “How many people have you killed?”
“Eighty-two.” I keep track so that I don’t forget the lives I’ve taken.
“Were any of them children?”
I shake my head. “No, children and pregnant women are off-limits; we don’t deal in those.”
Josie cocks her head to the side. “So, you’ve killed women who aren’t pregnant?”
I set my bowl on the floor and run my hand through my hair. I’m not a fan of this conversation. I don’t like thinking about these kinds of things. However, I know she needs to hear them. Everything has to be out on the table if she’s ever going to trust me again. There can’t be any more secrets, well, at least when it comes to what I do. She can’t know how I feel for her. Nothing can come from it.
