Page 33 of Property of Rattler

My empty words seem to satisfy her. After a shuddering sigh, she gives me a small nod.

By the time we’ve finished our meal, it’s starting to get dark outside. As she collects the plates and the empty beer bottles I’ve drunk, I go to my pack and extract a flashlight, then trek to the bathroom to take a piss.

When I return, she asks for the flashlight, then leaves, probably to do the same thing.

Eyeing the sink, with nothing better to do, I start washing the plates and pans that she’s used. When she returns, she stands awkwardly for a moment before going to a drawer she’s clearly explored earlier and getting out a towel, then starts drying up.

We work in silence.

Once the detritus of our meal is cleared away, we return to the main room. I turn on the television, which, thank fuck, is already set up to the Wi-Fi. Entering my password, I pull up a subscription channel and flick through to a movie I’ve been wanting to watch.

I get another beer, and she pours herself a glass of wine. She sits in one armchair, and I sit in the other. We don’t talk. We just stare at the screen. When the credits roll, she asks for my flashlight again. When she returns and disappears upstairs, presumably to go to bed, I, too, visit the bathroom once more. Even though it’s before midnight and long before I normally turn in, with fuck else to do, I brush my teeth and make myself ready for a night on that uncomfortable couch.

But when I return to the cabin, I come to a halt.

The cushions from the couch had been laid on the floor, the ones from the chairs placed head-to-tail, a sheet laid over thetop. One of the pillows I suspect has come from her bed, placed at the head of the makeshift bed, and a blanket lying alongside for my use.

Stripping down to my underpants, I switch off the light, then fumble my way back to the centre of the room and lie down, placing my gun within easy reach. It might resemble a slim single bed, but it’s surprisingly comfortable, and at least I can stretch out.

My final thought before I close my eyes is, why would a woman who hates me as much as I detest her do something so thoughtful? I hate to admit it, but I would never have considered taking the seat cushions off the couch. I start to close my eyes, then remember the shit Tempest had pulled together to stock us, well, me in this instance, up. Weapons and flashlights. Plural. In that there’s more than the one I’ve been using for myself.

Rolling out of my improvised bed, I switch on my flashlight and go to my duffle and pull out one of the spares. With that in hand, I ascend the stairs. It looks like she’s already in bed as there’s no ribbon of light showing under the door. Nevertheless, I give a perfunctory knock, then turn the handle and push the door open. If she’s asleep, I’ll just leave the flashlight by the side of the bed.

Harsh light almost blinds me as she immediately turns on the bedside light. But I’ve enough vision to see her scoot up the bed, wrapping the sheet tightly around her. Her face has gone white.

Oh shit.Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to visit her just wearing boxers. When I take a step toward her, it looks like she’s about to scream.

I hold both hands in the air, then wiggle the one holding the gift that I’ve brought. I wait until her panicked eyes are drawn to it, then gingerly step forward, holding it out. When she doesn’t release her death grip on the sheet, I place it carefullydown on the table beside her, then retreat fast, while saying unnecessarily, “I brought you the spare flashlight.”

Her eyes remain wide, so I continue backing out. When I reach the door, I blurt out, “Goodnight.” Then close it before she can respond.

If she had, she would probably have told me to go to hell. My bad, I hadn’t considered that my half-naked appearance would frighten her. Back home, in the bunkhouse, what I’m currently wearing would sometimes be over the top. The inconvenience of the bathrooms being communal means it’s not unusual to bump into naked brothers making their way to the heads. And the only women on my floor are the whores, who wouldn’t turn an eye, as they’ve already seen everything we’ve got to offer.

Ames?

I honestly didn’t like scaring her tonight. I might not like her, but we’re being forced to live together for an indeterminate amount of time, and each of us walking on eggshells around each other is going to make it ten times more difficult.

She’s not a whore, not a girl I’ve flirted with and brought home to fuck. She’s under my protection. And, eyeing the bed she’d gone out of her way to make up for me, perhaps she deserves to be treated with some respect. Maybe we can settle into our own roles and come to some kind of truce. Or maybe not. It depends on whether she can keep to her lane.

I sleep well, for about three hours, then my bladder wakes me up. Lesson learned—no walking around half naked here. I pull on my jeans and slide on my boots. It’s not just out of consideration for the woman lying upstairs in the only bed. Those fucking spiders are no joke, and I don’t want them to crawl into places where I definitely don’t need them. It’s only when I’m outside, looking up at a bright starlit sky, that I remember the other necessity Tempest had packed.Bear spray.

As I piss, I rack my brains for other wildlife we’ve got to be wary of. Javelinas, if my memory serves me right, oh, and snakes, and Gila monsters. All are known to inhabit the canyon I’m in.

Fuck my life.

Having made it back to the cabin unscathed, like a kid, I can’t wait to slide back under the sheet as if I were a child scared of the dark.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

AMES

Rattler scared the shit out of me last night, appearing as he did, wearing only his underwear. Feeling guilty about taking the only bed in the cabin, I thought I’d been nice preparing as comfortable a place for him to sleep as I could. My first thought when he’d opened my door was that he was going to chuck me out and swap sleeping arrangements. My second? Well, that was when I’d gotten a look at how he was dressed, and I wondered whether he’d come to collect something he thought he was owed.

I was still in a state of shock and unable to thank him when he’d placed that flashlight by the side of the bed. But once he’d left and I was alone again, I recognised the thoughtful gesture for what it was, though there was the question of why he hadn’t brought out the spare one earlier. I suppose it didn’t matter. At least I wouldn’t have to go to the outhouse in the night, fumbling my way in the dark.

Once he’d gone and the door had closed behind him, I turned out the light again and tried to get some sleep. It took a good few tosses and turns, and the poor pillow got beaten up more thanonce, before I was able to quiet my thoughts and eventually drop off.

I’m woken by the birdsong that seems to come from directly outside the bedroom window. For a moment, it’s tempting to burrow my head back under the sheet and pretend that yesterday I didn’t go through that sham of a marriage ceremony, which was actually real, and that I haven’t been brought to an isolated cabin, with only the jerk downstairs for company. But my bladder, which luckily hadn’t necessitated using the flashlight during the night, reminds me now of my urgency to pee. I’ve no choice but to get up and face the reality that’s become my life.