In The Woods Pt. 02

Judd brought me oak wood to smoke the trout he'd caught last week. I'd mixed up some brown sugar and kosher salt and followed the recipe as close as I could. It would take two hours to get them good and done and he'd said to have them done by the time he came back from town.

I wondered if Judd would stroll into the co-op and listen to my old boss talk about his lazy ex-employee who'd wandered off. I didn't have any family to miss me. My daddy was long dead and my mother lived down in Arkansas with my lawyer brother who hated my guts. I chopped up some leftover duck and through it out to Scar and Jodie who gobbled it up while I climbed into the rocking chair with my mug of black tea. With a little honey. Jodie laid right by my side to nap while Scar required attention. His fat heavy jowls on my knee and his tail wagged slow, as happy as could be.

Judd had a canvas bag thrown over his shoulder. I followed him inside and poured the rest of my tea into the sink while he unloaded his burden. He'd bought more Lipton tea bags for me and a pad of paper I'd requested along with pens and pencils. It was sick that I found it sweet. He sat out my sanitary pads and a box of tampons. Plus, some groceries. A bottle of milk, red wine, some chocolate, oats, and dog food. Then he went about putting his things away.

"Trout should be done. It's been cooking for a little over two hours."

He nodded. He was not a man of many words. Judd did things. He refilled lanterns and bought me black tea from the store even though he had a perfectly good jar of chamomile right there on the counter that he, himself, drank from. I liked black tea. He bought it from the store. He bought batteries for my radio and patted it hard on the side when it was fuzzy. Turned it down himself when it annoyed him instead of yelling for me to do it. Judd did things, he didn't often say anything.

We sat around the fire pit and ate. The trout was smokey. The oak had been a good call and afterward, we ate a blackberry crumble I'd made in a dutch oven which was so-so. A little tart, but gooey and warm enough that it didn't matter. I split one of the trouts for the dogs.

"You're spoiling them," he said, while he grinned.

I played solitary and took breaks to write passages from Gatsby down in my notebook. I'd already finished it, but I wanted my favorite parts in this notebook. The Last Werewolf was my newest book. I worked my way through it slowly. Judd had a pair of needle-nose pliers and was fixing the traps that needed mending.

The fire burned down until there were only glowing bits of oak and Judd dumped the bucket of river water on it. Letting the gray smoke curl up into the dark blue sky with all the stars above and the great big shining moon. "Let's go to bed, baby."

The windows let in a light breeze, the wind turning colder as September went on. Judd bent me over the edge of the bed and lifted my skirt. He dug his fingers into my hips while I dug my fingers into the thin summer quilt, grabbed it and wadded it in my fist while he rutted into me like an animal. Like he could smell me in heat. His cock deep. The angle gave him such a dangerous advantage and then I heard the growl, felt the warm slip of cum as it shot deep inside of me and filled me up with a mess. My hair was a mess. In my face and frizzed from where he'd grabbed ahold of me. He was asleep by the time I came back from the restroom. I thought about whether I could get away with sleeping on the little loveseat in the den, but I knew better. He'd wake up at night and feel for me. So I crawled into the bed and curled up away from him.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hate Judd. When I bothered arguing with him, he'd leave the conversation. Physically. He'd walk off and do something else as if it wasn't worth his time.

My eyes shot open when the light was just coming up. The birds singing. A light rain was falling and fog coiled around the trees and I was going to be violently ill. I made it to the bathroom in time to yack up my dessert first, supper second and by the time I was done and dry heaving, Judd was behind me with a glass of water. "Drink this. Better to throw up water than to choke yourself."

"Do you think I undercooked the trout?"

"Don't think so," he said. "I'm not sick. Probably allergies. We'll shut the windows tonight."

I shook my head. "Too hot like that."

And then I proceeded to throw up the water.

*

Judd put me back to bed and pulled the blanket up to my chest. "Get some rest. I'm going to go check some traps, but I ain't going far today. You want me to let Jodie in to keep you company?"

I nodded. The fat old hunting dog came in and hopped up on the bed like she was on a mission. She curled up next to me and together we fell asleep. I dreamed of strange creatures. Long and slim and slipping through tree limbs and getting closer and closer until I sat up in bed, drenched in sweat.

*

With a mason jar full of wine, I stepped out on the porch with my book and a candle to clear a hundred pages before I went to bed that night. Judd was sewing the sole of the left half of his favorite boots.

"Baby, I think we should skip the wine for a bit." He reached for it, but I yanked my hand back. I'd woken up a bit cranky.

"Last time I checked, I was well over twenty-one."

"Baby," he sighed.

I gulped some wine. Its bitterness burned at my throat, but I didn't let myself wince. I was hell-bent on protecting the last shred of my autonomy.

Judd grabbed my arm and pulled me to him and I knew what was next. When I'd first been brought here I'd run from him. I fought him off. One of the most memorable was when we were in the kitchen arguing. He was threatening to drag me to the bedroom and rape me every day of my life or I could make it easier on myself and relent, but I didn't relent. I fought like hell. Even when he grabbed my wrists and held them to the table, his knee between my legs as he hoisted me up and onto my back. I'd been naked. He wouldn't let me wear clothes for that first month because he was already having a hell of a time getting me on my back. He didn't have time to fight my clothes. He pushed me onto the table, onto my back, his hot breath on my face. He grunted hard in my face and spread my legs with his knees. His cock swung between my legs, it bumped against my slit. The pain in my wrist made me stop struggling, he pressed my hands together so he could hold my arms with one hand above my head. His other hand grabbed his cock and then it was over. He mounted me. Again. My tight cunt stung as he pressed in but with effort, my body accepted him, and the room filled with the sound of a wet cunt being willingly mounted. "This is what you're for," he'd spat at me. "Spreading your legs and taking my cock. You understand me?" He gave it to me hard and rough until I began to submit on my own.

Judd had my arm in his hand and glared at me and the wine. Jolie bared her teeth, warning Judd to let me go. "Give it to me."

So, I gave it to him. I threw the wine in his face and stormed inside to grab my backpack and notepad. I knew, logically, that I had no place to go, but I wanted to be away from the psycho I was forced to live with. I shoved a few books into my bag and I headed to the kitchen. I packed peanuts and some leftover deer and rabbit jerky. Plus the chocolate. I wanted that chocolate more than I wanted anything. That's when I noticed it. The sanitary pads on the counter. I crossed to the counter and checked the calendar. My period was late. I rushed out onto the porch, heaved the backpack onto my back, and headed north. "Scar, come on."

Jolie never got much farther than the edge of the cleared land. Judd laughed as he wiped his face off with the edge of his t-shirt. "Baby," he groaned. "Come on now. Don't.."

"Fuck you," I said. He hated when I cussed. He'd grab my jaw and threaten to make me suck on a bar of freshly wetted soap, but I was already in the trees. Scar rushed ahead, happy to be included in an adventure.