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ChapterTwelve
Trinity
We get back to the cabin when it’s dark out. My heart is heavy. I texted Lachelle that she should cancel my flight because I guess this is it. I’m here… My body aches from carrying over fifty pounds of meat on my back all the way home. Augustine loaded as much as he could on the dogs and he brought almost two-hundred pounds back on his own. I shouldn’t complain. He carried that meat formiles.My asshole husband is strong as fuck.And sexy .
He claims there’s more meat out there that he’ll go get tomorrow. I’m too tired and traumatized to let myself feel grossed out by what I’ve just done. The animal was warm. Ew, ew, ew. Augustine promised me the moose didn’t suffer, but I don’t know. I climb into the shower while Augustine packs up the meat, washing the grime and blood off me.
There’s no point in putting on a wig once I’m done. Hell, I’m too tired to put the effort in. I braid my hair down into two cornrows and put on my emerald satin bonnet. At this point, I have nothing to hide from Augustine. After putting on my moisturizer, which I hope I can restock up in the damn wilderness, I slip into a pair of fluffy sweatpants and cabin socks before throwing on a largeNew York Yankeest-shirt and a gray and red Cornell hoodie.
The snow picked up when we were half an hour away from the house and right now, a surprise snow storm rages outside. It’s barely September, but apparently these freak snowstorms happen in Alaska. Augustine explained in his caveman grunts during our walk back.
So much for my escape plan. Maybe I’m just… stuck here.
Augustine knocks on the bathroom door. Instead of a terrified yelp, I let out a frustrated sigh. I don’t want to be here and he knows it now. This is awkward. It’s not like the sex wasn’t good. It’s not that there isn’t something profoundly sexy about his untamed mountain man behavior. Ilovea masculine man chopping trees and shooting moose, don’t get me wrong.
But he’s also… dark. There’s something wrong with his soul. He has a secret and it’s bigger than my student loan fuck up.
“What do you want?”
“To talk,” Augustine says.
My stomach does a nervous, uncomfortable flip. Do we really need to talk? I was getting used to Augustine’s cold silence and his cruel punishment – making me gut a damn moose with him in the woods. I accept that he caught me and it’s his right to drag his wife back to his domain, but we don’t need to talk. I won’t make trouble anymore. Well, not while I’m tired as fuck.
“I’m tired.”
“Too bad.”
Augustine opens the door to the bathroom. I stare at him dumbfounded.
“What if I was taking a shit?”
“You weren’t,” he says. “I can smell all your woman creams or whatever from the other side of the door.”
“Please don’t call them woman creams.”
“Right. Listen, Trinity… I’m sorry.”
Okay, maybe I died or I’m in a coma or something, because there’s no way this is real. I haveneverhad a man apologize to me. No boyfriend, no friend-with-benefits, and definitely not my ain’t shit father. His apology feels like a smack to the face. It’s like my ears are ringing and I sound dumb as hell when I answer.
“What?” I say foolishly.
“You heard me,” Augustine says, prickling immediately.
“Yes, I heard you. But you just said the word sorry.”
“Yes,” Augustine responds with a frustrated tightness to his voice. “I apologized. I didn’t mean to be such a dick and push you away. I’m sensitive about my past and it’s nothing to do with you. I’m the fuck up and I shouldn’t repeat my mistakes.”
I bite my tongue. This man just apologized and I don’t want to spoil it by tearing him down when he’s done something that no other man has done for me. The dick was phenomenal too, don’t get me wrong.
“Okay.”
“This is what finally gets you to shut up?” Augustine says, a smirk teasing across his face when he notices his comment getting under my skin.
“I was quiet throughout your entire barbaric murder ritual. I didn’t get a thank you for that”
“I wouldn’t have shot that moose if you hadn’t escaped. But you wouldn’t have run if I hadn’t been a dick.”
