Two Cabins, One Lake: An Alaskan Romance (25 page)

BOOK: Two Cabins, One Lake: An Alaskan Romance
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T
hey
didn’t let Gary go for two more days.

In the meantime, I’d cleaned up after our little cookout. 
My brothers weren’t coming back out, so I’d packed up their things and sent them
to town.

I’d laced their clean underwear with itching powder.  I
had
hesitated momentarily on Zack’s, because he’d been shot and was in the hospital
and all.  Then I remembered a thirteen-year-old girl, near-naked in front of
her entire family, her dress ripped from her by a flaming penis-mobile.  Of
course I spiked his, too.

Thursday afternoon, Gary stepped out of a float plane onto his
dock.  I had been trying to limp along, pretending it was life as usual, and
that I didn’t care, but the worry that they might not release him at all had
been consuming my thoughts.  It was painful, not knowing if I’d ever see him
again.

So it was with a crushing kind of relief that I saw him step
out of that plane.  I’d gone out on the deck as the plane landed, and it was
from there that I watched him approach.

He held my gaze as he climbed the steps up from the beach.  He
disappeared past the corner of the cabin, and a moment later, I heard the latch
click as he let himself in.

“I thought we talked about trespassing,” I called, turning
to watch him through the open sliding door.

He paused as he noticed the ugly strip of grey tape across
my window, and he must have been realizing it was covering a crack that had
been caused by a bullet.  From his shootout.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I’ll pay
to have it fixed.”

“There’s a couple bullet holes in my siding as well.  And
one in my freezer,” I added, even though we both knew the freezer had already
been fucked.  It’d been funny to watch the Trooper take a whole frozen roast
with a slug buried in it.  Even funnier, all of the Troopers had been really
impressed with the gigantic pike on top of it.

“All of it,” Gary said, watching me carefully.  “I’ll fix
all of it.”

“Don’t bother with the siding,” I said.  An Alaskan cabin
hadn’t really ‘arrived’ until it sported a few bullet holes.

I liked that uncertain, squirmy look on him.  The hitman
looked uncertain.  It was priceless, really.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.  “Can I explain?”

“Please do,” I said, cool as a cucumber.

He stepped out into the light on my deck.  “I was a sniper
in the marines,” he said.  “I did that for the last seven of my nine years,
and…I was ready to try something else.  Maybe something where I wasn’t killing
people.  So I got out.  I was living with my friend down in New Orleans, and I was
doing minimum-wage type carpentry jobs.  I’d been looking into going to
helicopter school, because I’d always loved to fly, but it turned out the GI
bill didn’t cover the initial Private Pilot, and only paid for parts of the
Commercial rating.  So I was trying to save up money, but I wasn’t making enough
to save.  I went on like that for several months.

“And then one day, my friend came up to me, and he said he had
this job for me.  He showed me a picture of a drug dealer, and he said someone
was willing to pay forty thousand dollars to have that man killed.  He told me
about some of the things this guy had done.  The assaults, the murders…he was a
really bad guy.  Probably much, much worse than the people I’d killed when
endorsed by the military.  They were offering forty thousand dollars for me to
wipe this scum off the face of the earth.  That was most of my helicopter
school right there.  I said I’d do it.  And I did.

“Well, a month later, here comes my friend again with
another job.  Another low-life, another forty thousand dollars.  I was working
my way through helicopter school at that point, and I’d found out it’s hard to
get the hours of flight time that you need for people to employ you as a
commercial helicopter pilot.  One of the best ways, it looked like, was for me
to buy my own helicopter.  And the way I figured it, a few more of these jobs,
and I’d have it.  So I did it.  And I did another.  And another.  Pretty soon
the organization started to trust me a bit, I suppose.  They came to me
directly, and I started to learn things about them.  Things I wished I hadn’t
known.”

Gary took a deep breath.  “I got the helicopter.  And I got
some money put away beyond that—in stocks,” he said with a wry little
half-grin.  “I was just thinking about telling them the next hit would be my
last, when I got caught.”

“If you got caught,” I asked, “why aren’t you in jail?”

“The DEA offered me a deal.  If I testified against my employer,
the drug cartel I was working for, they’d grant me immunity.  I could go free. 
They even offered me witness protection, if I testified.”  He shook his head. 
“I think they only knew about the one attempted hit of mine; they were never
able to pin the others on me.

“So yeah, of course I testified.  These were criminals; I
owed them nothing.  I put the boss away, and a half dozen of his higher-ups. 
The man that was here, the one holding you, was his second-in-command and one
of the only ones that got off.  The cartel broke up with so many key players
gone.  So he was out of a job, and he was pissed.

“Like I said, they offered me witness protection, but I
declined.  I didn’t want to live in hiding, or have a US Marshal keep me
company for the rest of my life.  So I took my commercial license, and my
helicopter, and I moved up here.  I’d always wanted to come to Alaska.  I
figured there’d be work, and they’d have trouble finding me if they tried.”

“So, they’re not pressing charges at all, for,” I waved my
hand at my bullet-ridden yard, “this.”

He shook his head.  “Self-defense.  And actually, I think
the DEA’d been hoping they’d try something.”

I looked at him a long moment.  He and I both knew he hadn’t
needed to snap that last guy’s neck.  The man had been defeated.  Gary’d
basically killed him in cold blood.

“Why did you kill the one holding me?” I asked.

Gary held my gaze.  “He would have kept coming back,” he
said.  “I never would have been safe. 
You
never would have been safe. 
It was actually one of the easier kills I’ve ever made.”

“And what about the three thugs on the riverbank?”

He winced and looked guilty as fuck.

“That really was their boat we saw when we were looking for
mine, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he admitted.  “It was.  I knew if I let them go, they’d
lead the others right back to me.”

I didn’t ask him what he’d done with their bodies, but I had
a pretty good idea.  That river had a way of making things disappear.

“So you’re a killer,” I said.  I suppose it should have been
disturbing to me, but I’d been coming to terms with it these past couple days. 

Life was tenuous in the Alaskan bush.  Things died because
people killed them.  I killed fish daily.  Just last week, my brothers had
killed a bear.  It was a bit of a leap from fish to bears, from bears to
people, but it wasn’t that big.  That bear had threatened me, could have killed
me, so we’d killed it.  Those men had threatened us, and Gary had dealt with
the threat.

I’d spent the last couple weeks with this man.  He was loud,
yeah.  But he wasn’t evil.

“Hitman is the official term,” he said.  “But I’m trying to
quit.  Trying to change.  Like I told you, I just want peace and quiet, and to
fly my helicopter for a living.”

I scoffed.  “Peace?  Quiet?  Bullshit.  What about that huge
party you had?  If you’d just moved up, where did you even get all those
friends?”

“I’d stayed in town for a couple months, long enough to
realize I didn’t want to live there.”  He shrugged.  “What can I say?  I make
friends fast.  People seem drawn to a handsome, single guy with a helicopter. 
As to the party:  It was the Fourth of July.”

I grunted.

He stepped a little closer, and his expression softened. 
“Will you forgive me?” he asked.  “I know you didn’t hear it, but what I told
your brothers is true.  I think you’re amazing, and I want you in my life.”

“Hard to stay out of it when I live right next door,” I
grumbled.

His gaze was discerning.  “You’re not really mad right now,”
he said.  “I’ve seen you mad.  But something’s bothering you.  Tell me what it
is.”

I sighed.  “They took my guns,” I admitted.  ‘Evidence’, the
State Troopers had said.

“Oh.”  He held out his hand.  “Come with me.”

“If I want to live?”

He grinned.  “I’m not gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Nuh-uh.”

He snagged my hand, and pulled me from my cabin.  I trailed
behind him across my lawn and down the steps to the beach, very aware of his
warm hand wrapped around mine.  He’d touched most parts of me, but he hadn’t
ever held my hand.  It felt…really good.

As we walked over to his place, I noticed that we were
wearing in a trail between our two cabins.

He led me up his lawn, past his maimed helicopter, and into
his cabin.  He tugged me into his bedroom, and for a moment I thought he was
just gonna toss me on the bed and have his way with me.

But instead, he slid the closet door aside, and revealed a
gun safe.  And then he opened the safe door, to reveal…guns.  Dozens of guns.

Drawn like a moth to a flame, I stepped closer.

“You can have anything here,” he said.  “Hell, you can have them
all if you want.”

I finally tore my gaze away from the forest of blue steel
beauties, and I looked up at him.  He had a look in his eyes, one that said
he’d give me the world if I wanted it.

“What if I just want you?” I asked.

He stepped in close, his hand sliding warm and gentle
against my face.  “You can have that too.”

 

 

Ep
ilogue

One Month Later

 

“Y
ou
remember the first day we met, how I burned your blueberries?”

“Of course I remember.”  How could I forget?  Because of
him, there’d be no more blueberry pies.  I was still a little sore about that. 
I understood Gary had to enter my life with a bang, because that was just the
way he did things…but I wish he’d ‘banged’ something other than my blueberry
patch.

We were a couple thousand feet up, high above the treetops
in his helicopter.  It was the end of August, getting on toward fall, and the
landscape below us was taking on tints of yellow and orange.

It was my first day off in a week-long run of guiding, and
Gary had scooped me into his helicopter immediately after he made me
breakfast—pancakes with maple syrup and cheesy broccoli quiche.  Yeah, I was a
lucky woman.

“Did I ever say I was sorry?” he asked.

“No, you didn’t.”  He’d reminded me I had yet to burn
something of his in retribution.

“Well, I’m sorry,” he said.

I nodded, but I was still planning arson.  “Where are we
going again?”

He smiled over at me, and I noted he hadn’t gotten any less
handsome now that we were getting along.  “It’s a surprise.”

We were flying toward a low, rounded ridge that by Lower 48
standards probably counted as a mountain, but by mine it was a tall hill.  The
trees ended before the top, giving way to low shrubbery and then ground plants
interspersed with rock.

The helicopter was losing altitude, so I figured that was
our destination.  I had seen Gary load up a blanket and a five gallon bucket
with food—because we’re classy like that—so I guessed he was taking me for a
picnic.  Of course, there was also a small pile of something back there he’d
been careful to throw the blanket
over
.

I’d been out and about with him in his helicopter almost
daily since he’d gotten it repaired after the shootout.  Actually, we’d been
thick as thieves since he finally told me the truth.  I even went riding with
him on his stupid jet ski—also after he’d gotten it repaired—and guess what? 
It actually was pretty entertaining, even if we were just roaring around in really
big circles.

His construction was going well.  He’d extended his living
room six feet and put in a wall of windows.  It wasn’t entirely finished, but
it was sealed up, so he’d been able to unhook the mosquito netting from over
his bed.  I knew this because we’d been sleeping together every night, either
at my place or his.  And lately, I’d been leaning toward his.  Did I mention he
had installed a Jacuzzi tub in his bathroom?  I love my cabin to death, but it
doesn’t have a Jacuzzi tub.

Best of all, though, he’s been respecting my sleep-in
hours.  If I’m at work, he starts hammering almost immediately after I leave—I
know because sometimes I hear him even before I fire up my four-wheeler—but if
I’m home, he waits until I’ve woken up.  He also got me a pair of
noise-canceling headphones for when I
am
home, and don’t want to hear
his noise.  It’s real sweet of him, and I try to say thank you in the best way
I know how…  Let’s just say that in the past few weeks, I’ve gotten plenty of
new material for my stories.

The massive pike in my freezer emerged unscathed by both
bear and bullets.  True to his word, Gary had sent it to be taxidermied.  And
because he thought I’d enjoy it more, he was going to let me hang it in my
cabin.  I was planning on putting it right next to the thugs’ drone, which I’d
dredged off the lake bottom and mounted high on my wall.

And Brett?  The law hadn’t come down on him like it should
have, so Gary and I did instead.  We paid him a visit, and Gary made him cry. 
It was beautiful, and even better:  I haven’t seen Brett since.  And no, we
didn’t kill him.

Gary set the helicopter down on a bed of lichen and killed
the engine.  I climbed out, breathing in the clean, tall-hill air as I looked
out over the rolling landscape.  I could see everything from here, forest
dotted with marshland, lakes and ponds, and cut through with winding rivers all
the way out to the next mountain range.  It still amazed me that a man who had
all this available to him, who could go anywhere, had chosen the cabin next
door to mine.  I mean, my little lake is pretty amazing, but…

“I wanted to show you something,” he said.  He started down
the hillside.

Now he really had my curiosity piqued.  Who knew what he had
out there.  Maybe a jade boulder?  I’d heard of people finding ones the size of
Volkswagens.  Or an albino moose?  But how would you keep one of those in one
spot? 
Ooo
, a hidden cave or waterfall would be cool.

He stopped on a gentle slope dotted with knee-high greenery,
and I almost bumped into his back.  “We’re here,” he said.

“We’re here?”  I looked around.  There was nothing special
about this spot.  Nothing special except—my vision snagged on a round shape,
about the size of the tip of my pinkie, peeking out from behind a leaf.  It was
blue, and when I focused on it, I realized it was part of a clump of these
round shapes, and the bush it was on had several clumps, and—
fuck me
—I
was surrounded by these bushes.

“Blueberries,” I uttered, feeling like the wind had been
knocked out of my lungs.

“Yep.”  He had been watching my face, and now he started to
smile.

Gary had taken me to blueberries.  This was better than
water in the desert.  Better than breakfast in bed.  Better, even, than sparkly
things.

“How?” I asked.  I knelt down and pulled gently at a clump. 
They were perfectly ripe, plump for Alaskan berries, and a whole handful came
away in my hand.

“Well…I didn’t know what blueberries looked like even after
burning yours, and I didn’t know where to look, so I enlisted your friend. 
Suzy and I went scouting, and we were able to find this patch one morning while
you were at work.”

I stood and emptied a couple blueberries into his hand. 
“Try,” I said.

He popped them into his mouth and made the tart face.  “Flavorful,”
he said.

I ate my own more slowly, looking at him contemplatively. 
He’d blown me away.  This was the best present ever, and it wasn’t even my
birthday.  Or Christmas.  Maybe I wouldn’t have to burn anything of his after
all.

I stepped up to him and looped my hands around his neck. 
His hands came up to my waist, and I knew I had his complete attention as I
said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

And then, right there on that puny mountainside, we shared a
blueberry-flavored kiss.  And another.  And then one thing led to another, and
that blanket got drafted for something besides picnic duty.  Namely, cushioning
my bare ass.

And that’s when it started to rain.  There was one damn
cloud—barely a wisp, really—directly overhead, and it opened up and sprinkled
on us.  It was sunny, and yet it was sprinkling, so yeah, just another beautiful
day in Alaska.

I laughed as water dripped from Gary’s hair down onto my
face.  The man was forever getting me wet.

 

THE END

 

 

Author’s Note:  If you enjoyed
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