Double Dirty Mountain Men(15)

Then we all get in the truck, heading down the mountain.

It's a rough, slippery ride. There's still plenty of snow on the ground, and the roads haven't been cleared yet, but we've both got plenty experience driving this thing in the snow.

As we get closer to town, we make polite conversation: about how long the schools will be closed for, when the roads might reopen, whether we're getting more snow any time soon. None of us wants to talk about what's happening, how this is the end of our nearly-perfect few days together.

We take the bobcat to the vet first, who's waiting for us in her office since we alerted her first. When she sees the cat, she shakes her head.

"Bear trap, right?" she asks.

"Right," I say.

"I'd like to spring one of those on the shitheads who put them out there," she says, more fire in her than I thought. "See how they like it."

"He'll be okay, though, right?" Rose asks.

The vet takes a closer look at the passed-out bobcat, her face inscrutable.

"He's very likely to live," she finally says. "But he's also pretty likely to lose that leg. He might have to be shipped to the sanctuary and become a breeder."

Knox and I share a quick look but manage not to laugh.

"I know, I know," the vet says. "What a rough life, hanging out, getting fed and having lots of sex. Poor guy."

When we leave her office, the mood changes instantly as we get back into the car. No one speaks. I drive as slowly as I can to Rose's house, but it still comes too fast, and when I pull up outside, we all sit for a moment in silence.

Rose takes a deep breath.

"I'm glad you rescued me," she says, and then laughs a little, like she's nervous. "Well, I'm glad I got rescued, and I'm glad you two did it."

"Us too," Knox and I say in unison.

I pull a piece of paper from my pocket and hand it to her. She unfolds it slowly, her brow furrowing.

"We don't have a phone at the cabin, but that's instructions on how to reach us by radio any time you want," I say.

"Since you work on the other side of the mountain, we were thinking... you could come by sometimes, visit us. That sort of thing."

Rose looks from Knox to me and back.

"Of course," she says, her voice nearly a whisper. "Of course I'll visit you, and—"

She swallows.

"Of course I'll visit," she repeats.

I'm hit by the urge to tell her I love her so strong it's nearly overwhelming, but I don't. What's the point, right now?

Rose scoots forward in the back seat. Each of us gives her a long, slow goodbye kiss before we get out of the car. She goes back and forth a couple of times, from one to the other, and by the time we're finished I'm hard again.

I wonder if we could fuck in this vehicle, just one more time.

But then her neighbor's door opens, and a gray-haired lady comes off and shakes out a tablecloth. The three of us all get out of the car, and we walk Rose up to her front door.

It's open, and she walks through it, into the living room. We follow her.

There's an older man on the couch, watching TV. Some daytime show. It takes him a couple of seconds to look up at her.

"There you are," he finally says, his eyes roving over the two of us.

He pauses.

"I was starting to get really worried, sweetheart."

He couldn't sound less worried if he tried.

"Thanks, Dad," Rose says, not really looking at him. Suddenly she sounds sad and exhausted.

"You two work at the diner?" he asks, nodding at us.

He doesn't even seem curious that two men brought his daughter home, let alone suspicious or protective. I want to put my arm around her, comfort her, tell her that it's not her fault she got a shitty father.

"We—" Knox starts.

"Actually, Dad, your truck broke down going over the mountain and they found me before I froze to death, because someone took the blankets out of the cab," Rose says. "They let me stay with them during the snowstorm, since I couldn't get back home."

She doesn't even sound angry, just matter-of-fact.

"Oh," her dad says. "Thanks for that."

He sounds so fucking casual that my hand balls itself into a fist. I can't believe his daughter nearly died and he's more interested in a TV show than her.

"Of course," I say stiffly. "Glad we could help."

"I've got good news," he says, smiling suddenly and changing the topic. "Won two grand at the roulette table!"

Rose just stares at him, then pulls us into the kitchen.





Chapter Twenty-Four





Knox




"Thanks for bringing me home," she says softly, folding her arms over her chest. She's looking at the floor, suddenly defeated and sad.

This isn't the Rose I know, the Rose I love, the spirited girl who kicks my ass at board games and begs me to do dirty things to her.

"Is there anything else we can do?" I ask, reaching out and touching her cheek gently.

She shakes her head.

"I'm fine," she says.

"With him?"

She frowns a little, then almost rolls her eyes.

"Dad's not violent or anything," she says. "He's never, you know, touched me. He'd just rather be somewhere that's not here with someone who's not me. I'm saving money to move out, and then I'll live in town, go to community college. I'm fine. Really."

I nearly say he didn't even report you missing, but I don't. I have a feeling she already knows, and if she doesn't, I don't want to tell her that.

"You'll radio us?" I ask.

Rose smiles and holds up the paper with the complicated instructions.

"Promise," she says, and even though she's smiling, her eyes are bright and shiny.

I feel like there's a fist tightening around my gut, squeezing so hard I can barely breathe.

"Good," Logan says.

I kiss her. He kisses her.

And then I force myself to walk back out of her house, past her father who didn't care that his daughter nearly died.

As I get into the car and crank the engine, I swear to myself: we're going to figure something out.



Neither of us says a word for the entire trip back. It's already getting dark when we arrive — it's a very slow drive with the snow — and we get out of the car, head into the cabin, and both simply sit on the couch in the dark for a long time, staring into the cold fireplace.

I think about the three of us on the bearskin rug in front of it, how when I got back from that journey I was cold and hungry, but the second I saw her there, naked, she was all I wanted.

I think about the way she begs us when she's so turned on she can't take any more, about how there's something so alluring about a girl that dirty and that sweet at the same time. How her filthy, wicked side makes everything else better.

I miss Rose already. Even though she was only here for a few days, the cabin suddenly seems empty without her here. I feel empty without her here.

After a long time, Logan gets up. I follow. We make dinner in silence, grunting at each other to pass the salt and pepper, and afterward we clean up in silence, then each do some work in silence.

I don't sleep well. I'm not surprised.

When I wake up at four in the morning, Logan's bed is already empty and I smell coffee. I pull on some clothes and go out into the kitchen, where he's standing in silence, leaning against the counter where Rose and I... well, you know.

I get a cup myself. I sit in a chair at the table and drink it black. I feel even worse than I thought I would.

After a long time, Logan suddenly speaks up.

"I don't think I can do this," he says, his voice low and gravelly with disuse.

I stare into my empty coffee mug.

"I don't think I can either," I say.

There's a long, long pause. What I'm about to say seems insane, and it doesn't seem like it'll work, but I know I have to try.

"So we're going to ask her if she'll stay?"

Logan puts his mug into the sink with a clunk.

"Let's go," he says.





Chapter Twenty-Five





Rose




My dad watches TV for most of the night. I forage through the fridge and manage to make us sandwiches, and then we watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy together. Or, at least, we watch it in the same room. During commercials, he tells me about his trip to the casino with his latest girlfriend Amber.

I've never met Amber. I don't really want to. My dad never says this part, but I think she's married to an older, richer guy, which means my dad was out having a vacation on some other man's dime.

It bothers me. I don't say anything about it, but it does. My dad's not particularly handsome, objectively speaking, but I've seen him interact with women he's dating before and it made me feel slimy, just to watch.

Three guesses why my mom ran off, by the way.

Eventually I go to bed. It's cold, and it's empty, and as I lie there, staring at the ceiling, I miss Logan and Knox unbelievably. I miss them snuggling me in the morning. I miss them laughing while they make breakfast.

I miss having them both take me, one after the other. I miss nearly exploding with pleasure and I miss the way that I always felt safe and warm and loved afterward, no matter how dirty we got.

Now I'm crying, in the dark, into my pillow, because I don't know when I'm going to see them again. Tomorrow I'm back to my regular, boring life, and I don't want to be.

I could be a mountain woman, I think. I could at least learn.

I fall asleep crying, but I dream about planting tomatoes in the spring. In the dream, there's a baby strapped to my chest, sleeping peacefully as I dig up dirt, Knox and Logan chopping wood nearby.