Damnable Grace
Page 56

 Tillie Cole

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“Shoot,” AK said, his voice still thick with need. I lifted the gun and took up the position he had shown me before. He tapped my ankles with the tip of his boot. “Wider. It’ll stop you from falling so bad this time.”
I did as he said, lining up the gun to the target, feeling him beside me once more. And as I shot the bullet out, I smiled at the subtle, intimate touches he used to guide me. I braced for the kickback this time, glad when I firmly held my ground. I looked at the tree. I had chipped the base of the target. “I hit it!”
He gave me a smile, and the sight stole all the air from my lungs. He was so handsome that he caused my heart to ache. “You got closer than before, but you won’t be winning any prizes with that. We’re going again.”
And that was how the day went. At least until I grew too tired and we had to head back to the cabin. AK cooked on the grill while I lounged in a reclining chair. When we had eaten, I was exhausted, the remnants of the drink still stealing my energy. I rested my head against the cushions of the chair, and slipped into sleep.
When I awoke, the sun was setting, the sky streaked with pink and orange. I blinked as I looked around me for AK. He sat in the same spot as he had most days, only this time there were two pairs of black boots in front of him. Both appeared well worn, and both were pitted with dirt. Knowing he had not seen me looking, I was about to ask him to whom those boots belonged when I suddenly caught the expression on his face. It was . . . sad. No, that was not a strong enough word to describe what his face was conveying. It was pain incarnate, a visage racked with such sorrow it made me ache.
I watched from the dark sanctuary of the chair as he took one pair of the boots in his trembling hands. They were the most worn pair of the two. When he pulled them into his chest and closed his eyes, his shoulders shaking, I almost jumped from my seat and ran to him. To comfort him. To make sure he was okay.
But I did not think that would be welcomed. So I let him be. I stayed quiet as he held the boots to his chest for several minutes, before placing them, so painstakingly slowly, on his lap. He reached for a cloth beside him, and I saw the track marks of tears on his cheeks.
Tears of my own blossomed in my eyes. He was such a formidable male, so big and strong, that the sight of him crying was more than I could bear. AK began cleaning the boots in silence. I kept my eyes hooded, eyelids leaden, so he would believe me asleep. He methodically cleaned both pairs of boots until they were gleaming. When they were done, he stared at them for so long that I worried I would have to show I was awake or sleep here all night.
But then AK got to his feet. He glanced over at me, and I quickly shut my eyes. I heard him stepping toward me. I felt him stop beside me and crouch down. I evened out my breathing, trying to keep up the pretense of sleep. Gently, he ran his hand over my hair. His warm breath blew across my skin. Then, shocking me completely, he brushed a gentle kiss on my cheek. Such a chaste, loving gesture. The sweetness of the act set off a swirl of emotions inside me.
Emotions I was not familiar with. Emotions I did not understand.
AK moved away. I cracked my eyes open a fraction and watched as he took both sets of boots in his hands. Slowly, he walked to the front door of the cabin. He bent down and placed one pair of boots on one side of the mat on the floor. Then, more carefully, almost reverently, he placed the second pair down on the opposite side of the mat. He stood and stared down at the boots. They looked so perfectly situated at the door, as though both the occupants lived happily inside the house. AK pushed through the door and shut himself inside. I waited several minutes before I moved. I looked to where he had been sitting and saw all the guns were now clean, as was the trunk. I approached the door.
Crouching down, I stared at the two pairs of boots. I let my fingers graze over the polished leather. They were so clean I could almost see my reflection in the light of the fading sun. The boots were identical in every way, except one pair was bigger than the other.
They were not both AK’s, I guessed. My eyebrows drew together as I wondered to whom the other pair could have belonged. I heard the sound of a door closing inside the cabin and went inside. AK’s bedroom door was closed. I sat down at the table in case he reappeared. I wanted to be sure he was okay.
But he did not. So I went to bed, unable to get the sight of him hugging the boots out of my mind.
I knew that level of pain he displayed. And I knew how it could rob you of joy.
*****
Two days later, I walked out of my bedroom to see AK wearing jeans, boots and no shirt, waiting for me at the table. “Morning,” I said cautiously, testing if he was still as subdued as he had been yesterday.
“Morning, Red,” he replied, and I felt a weight slip from my shoulders as he called me that name. He pushed a plate of food and a coffee in my direction. “Eat and drink up.” I sat before him and did as he said. When I had finished, he came to my side and held out his hand. Despite my confusion, I let him pull me to my feet.
He pulled me to his bedroom and led me to a closet. He paused before reaching out to open it, his grip on my hand tightening. When I peered inside, I saw a small rack of clothing.
Female clothing.
“Should be about your size,” AK said gruffly. He bent down and picked up a pair of brown boots. “Try these on. I got somewhere I wanna show you today, and you can’t be wearing those sandals.” His shoulders stiffened. “I’m fucking sick of never leaving the grounds of this cabin.”
I took the boots from his hands and slipped my feet inside. “They fit,” I said, smiling.
He reached back into the closet and pulled out a pair of shorts and a tank. Surprisingly, the tank did not show the devil on the front, but instead the American flag and an eagle. The text beneath read “Semper Fi”. I did not know what that meant; the language was strange. “Put these on too.”
I took the items from him and went back to my bedroom. The clothes fit fairly well. I was clearly taller than the woman they belonged to, but they were decent. I walked out to the kitchen. AK was waiting, a couple of bottles of water in his hands.
“I think they are fine.”
“Good” He got to his feet. He still had not put on a shirt, but he had tied back his hair. I decided I liked this look on him very much. I could see his eyes so much better.
I pointed to my clothes. “Do . . . do these belong to an ex-lover of yours?” I was surprised by the intense streak of jealousy that surged though me. My body was tense as I waited for a reply. I knew I should not care . . . but I did.