If I had any alcohol, I might consider drowning in a bottle tonight; numbing myself to the extent that this cruel existence I find myself in no longer has its claws sinking into me in a deathly grip. But I guess the option of just plain drowning is still there.
CHAPTER 7
Remi
After stepping out onto my deck and closing the door behind me, I switch the bag of goods into my other hand and set out in the direction of Jacob's shack once again. This time, with better intentions.
I've wrestled with the decision to do this ever since he came into the store the other day. I ended up deciding to bring him something as both a 'thank you' for saving me and a 'sorry' for trespassing onto his boat.
Sure I had been a little upset that he took off and left me the other day when I had almost died. But when he asked if I was okay at the store the next day when he came in, I could tell that it had bothered him as well. Or at least, been on his mind. His eyes held a hint of concern that he couldn't hide even if he tried.
Seeing people spitting on his truck handle while he was in the store had actually been painful to watch, too. I had felt so bad for him. Add in the interaction between him and the kid outside, and now I've been feeling even more confused about him than I already had been.
This time, I walk up along the dunes in the softer sand away from the water, and the closer I get to his place, the faster my heart beats. I keep wondering if I'm doing these things – breaking into his boat and going to see him today – because I want to see for myself what he's really like.
Am I somehow subconsciously trying to tempt him, or provoke him, just to get him to act in a way that justifies everyone's behavior toward him?
If I saw him as a monster, then I could stop feeling sorry for him, and the confusing feelings would go away.
It's probably partly true, but I also happen to see the loneliness surrounding him, and it calls to me. Somehow I know there's some kind of goodness in him, and I want to pull it out and offer that part of him friendship. Of course, the fact that I even want to offer friendship probably means I'm messed up in the head.
I approach his place, looking up into the cameras and wondering if he's watching me right now.
The air is calm, the sky is clear, and nothing but the gentle lap of the waves can be heard. But inside my body is anything but calm and quiet. Contradictory feelings swirl and clash together, fighting against one another.
I walk to his front door, take a deep breath, and knock. There's nothing but silence that greets me from inside. I wait another moment before knocking again, but still, there's nothing. With the mixture of thoughts spiraling inside me, I can't tell if I'm relieved or disappointed.
Instead of turning around, leaving, and forgetting about this like I probably should, I place the bag I brought down onto the ground by the door and start walking along the side of the house to check the back toward the dock.
Just as I'm about to reach the end, a figure walks around the corner, almost running right into me, or rather, I almost run right into him.
“Oh!” I say, lifting a hand to my chest. “You scared me.”
Shirtless again, Jacob looks up after stopping abruptly. The surprised look on his face is quickly replaced with a scowl. He doesn't say anything but lets out a huff and takes a wide berth around me to get to his front door.
“I just wanted to say sorry,” I rush to get out before he reaches the door, causing him to stop. “And to say thank you.”
He glances up toward the camera ahead of him and then slowly turns around. “Why are you here?”
“I told you, I wanted to say–”
“No,” he says in a low voice, cutting me off and taking a step in my direction again. “Why are you really here? Why do you keep coming back?” I swallow down the nerves and hold my ground, even as he continues stepping closer. “Are you trying to get a reaction out of me?”
He stops when he's right in front of me, those beautiful blue-gray eyes looking dark and stormy as he holds my gaze, and yet even with the darkness in them, they're brightly lit from the sunshine.
In the next second, he raises his hand and wraps his fingers around my neck.
It's not a tight grip, though. It's just there, like a warning.
Is this it? Is this where he'll show me he's a monster?
Is this where his inner demons come out from where they're buried in the darkness?
I stand here, almost paralyzed, waiting to see what he'll do next. His muscular chest moves along with each breath he takes, and he's so close that all it would take is me lifting a hand, and I'd be able to touch his bare skin. I don't move an inch, though. I just hold his gaze, barely blinking.
Waiting.
“Are you trying to see if I'll takeyou, and fuck you, without your permission . . . huh?”