“Mutie hive…” Logan muttered, pulling to the front yard of the cabin. Marie was sleeping next to him. Splatter of rain against the windows was strangely comforting even when he had spent last couple of hours cursing and weaving the truck through mud and quicksand.
“Marie? We’re here. Wake up,” he said and shook the sleeping woman gently. She had fallen asleep half an hour ago, and hadn’t entered to deep sleep yet. Thank God for small mercies. What ever, or more likely who ever it was she was dreaming of must have made quite an impression to her at some point. More than once he had caught her masturbating in her sleep during their ride to the cabin. At least it had proven him one thing. There was nothing wrong with his plumbing. Sight of Marie, squirming and writhing on her seat, dead to the world, had caused him an erection several times. It was kind of hard to hide in the narrow confines of the truck’s cab. Usually he just stopped the truck and walked outside until he could will it away before waking up Marie so that she could drive.
“Are we home?” Marie asked, sitting up and squinting her eyes, trying to see through the rain and darkness.
“Yeah. You are. You really don’t mind if I bunk in here for a while?” Logan asked, still not believing she had meant that he should move in with her.
“Stay as long as you like. It’s the least I can do after what I did.” She reached for his hand, and he resisted the urge to retreat from her touch. Her fingers skimmed scarred flesh lightly, causing a shiver run down his spine.
“I’m sorry…” Marie whispered, letting go of him.
“Don’t. I kind of like them.” It was true. Somehow he felt more whole now, matching set of her palm prints decorating the skin of his arms.
“You shouldn’t,” Marie said, turning and reaching for her bag, from under the seat. Movement bared generous amount of bare skin when her shirt hitched upwards. Small, white patch of old scar tissue on her lower back glowed in the darkness. Suddenly he had the urge to nuzzle it. Lick it. Taste her skin once again.
“I think I’ll have a cigar…” He muttered, shifting on his seat, practically salivating from the sight of that small patch of skin.
“You can smoke in the cabin, I don’t mind,” Marie said, opening the door of the cab.
“I’m just fine in here…” Logan grunted forcing himself to stay put when Marie hopped down and sprinted to the cabin under the pouring rain.
Cigar really wasn’t what he craved, so he settled just to chew on it instead of smoking. Cracked his knuckles and listened the steady drum of rain. Hellish two-week period in the close proximity of Marie was finally over. He was quite sure that he could let his guard down. Loosen up a bit. Now that there were more space, and no other people around, it would be easier. Had to be easier. Because if it wasn’t, that left him only one option: To leave. For good this time.
Sharp knock on the window pulled him from his thoughts. Marie stood outside, drenched through.
“Are you planning to stay out here all night? I would like to go back to sleep, but I have to lock the door first,” he could hear her shout over the rain.
“I’m coming…” He grunted, took his bag and followed her inside.
There was slightly mouldy smell floating in the air. Water was dripping from the kitchen ceiling.
“We can’t stay here for long. You’ll get sick.”
“But this is my home…” Marie started, but fell silent when he unsheathed his claws and took a step away from him. He plunged them through the wet spot on the floor, shattering wood before letting them slide back in.
“It’s decayed. And there’s mold. Not a good combination to your health,” He said, picking up a splinter and showing it to her.
“Shit. Fucking unbelievable. Can’t I just… What if I just replaced the floorboards with new ones?” Marie asked, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
“Won’t work. You won’t get rid of mold that way. Better just burn this place and build a new one.”
“I don’t think I can do that. There’s so much life, so many memories in this house… My whole life…”
“Your life will end here; within a year if you’re lucky. I have seen what this stuff does to people. Eats up their brain and lungs. I have seen them suffering years, turning slowly to babbling idiots who can’t even breathe on their own. If you can’t do it, I will.”
“Just because it’s easy for you to cut ties when things get difficult, doesn’t mean that it’s easy for me! This is the only place, the only thing I have left from Sam! You can’t expect me just to torch it like it was nothing!”
“Sam has fucking nothing to do with this! And do you really think he would want you to stay here, keep living in this filth and get sick over it?”
Just moments ago he had been pondering how to keep his paws off from Marie. Now he picked her up from the back of her shirt and carried her out from the cabin, taking their bags with them.
“We’re going to the settlement. I’ll book us a room from the Inn. Tomorrow I’ll find you a place to stay, and come back here. I’ll burn this place and build you a new house.”
“Let me go! Logan, let me go!” Marie was screaming and trashing in his grip, trying to squirm loose. Finally he gave up and dropped her to the ground, face down to the mud, and turned to throw their bags to the truck. Something wet and sticky splashed to the back of his head. He scraped it off; texture revealing him it was mud. Another sticky lump connected to his backside, right between his shoulder blades.
“Marie…”
“I’m fucking tired of this! As soon as it looks like that it’s time to settle down, something happens and I have to leave again! I’m not built like you! I want… I need something permanent! Something tangible! Something I can touch and say this is mine!” Marie shouted, lobbing yet another mud ball to his direction. Logan dodged it lunging towards her and grasping her from the front of her shirt, pulling her face to face with him.
“You think I enjoy emptiness? You think it’s a good life for me? When there’s nothing to expect, nothing to keep me in place? Absolutely nothing, no reason to keep going? I had a life, once. With you. I screwed it up. I’m trying to take care that at least you could have something…” His voice faltered when Marie clasped her hands to his cheeks.
“Why the hell this has to be so hard?” She whispered, leaning closer and brushing his lips with her own.
“Marie?” His voice was trembling. A question. A plea. She closed her eyes and pressed against him more firmly, tangling her hands to his wet hair and pulling him to another kiss.
He stumbled backwards, pulling her with him, reluctant to break the kiss. Finally he felt the truck behind his back and leaned against it. He needed the support. His body wasn’t cooperating. He couldn’t breathe and his legs felt strangely numb. His heart was working overtime; he could feel it pounding in his ears. There was mud and rain. There was Marie. Warm, alive, pressing against him and thrusting her tongue in his mouth, tasting him. Willing to share this with him.
“To hell with the mold…” He whispered when Marie wrapped her legs around his waist. At least cabin would be warm. There would be a real bed.
“Are you sure about this?” Marie nodded to his whispered question when he lowered her gently to her bed.
“It’s time. It’s time to stop hurting. Time to stop being afraid.” Yet he couldn’t make himself move to the bed before she took his hand and pulled him next to her.
“Just… If it’s too much, tell me to stop. Tell me to stop, and I’ll stop…”
“Shut up, Logan…” She silenced him by kissing him again, hungry mouth devouring his.
“I don’t want you to stop…”
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