Fable of Happiness (Fable 2)

There was a lesson in that; I was sure of it.

But rubbing my throat where his fingers had strangled me, yet again, I wasn’t quite ready to accept it. Regardless of his past, I wasn’t the one who’d hurt him. Therefore, he shouldn’t hurt me in return.

In the same context then, that rabbit (who’s probably never seen a human in its life) shouldn’t have feared us. It hadn’t known pain at our hands or seen the misery humans could bring, yet it’d instinctually known that we’d meant it harm.

Is that Kas?

Was that how he viewed everyone?

Strike first before he could be struck against? And what did that say about how he saw me? Did he actually lust for me, or was that just a dominating tactic to keep me from rising up against him and using his past to control him?

My brain hurt.

Ugh, why was everything so complicated when it came to this blasted man?

Kas didn’t speak again as we fell back into single file, following our tracks through the grass back to the first trap he’d set. Luckily, or unluckily, depending on who was looking, it was empty of edible victims.

“Damn,” Kas muttered. “I’ll set more tomorrow. We need to start building up our stocks before it’s too late.”

I ignored that. I didn’t want to start another lecture on how I’d used up more of his veggies than was permitted. I also didn’t want to discuss how many animals he’d need to slaughter in order to keep us fed in those colder months.

My mouth suddenly watered for packet pastas and chocolate bars. Processed food that conveniently came prepared, with none of the hunting and gathering fuss involved.

As the sun slowly set behind us, casting our shadows long and lean in front of us, my eyes locked onto Fables in the distance. Just like that first day when I’d spotted it hiding beneath its ivy and wildflowers, I felt a sense of unease and curiosity.

For all its ramshackle exterior, Kas had kept it impeccable inside. Had it always been so rough outside, or was that Kas who’d done his best to camouflage it?

Swallowing, not sure why I was willingly entering into conversation with him, I asked over my shoulder, “Are you the reason weeds are growing out of the gutters, or was that part of the original design?”

For a few seconds, he didn’t answer me, almost as if he’d chosen not to reply, but then a quiet, almost reflective sentence floated back to me. “I don’t like heights.”

I stopped and spun to face him. I kept my eyes off the dead bunny and focused on his ruggedly, annoyingly gorgeous face. “What? But you climbed up...” I waved at the cliff. “Up there after me.”

He snorted. “Didn’t exactly have a choice, did I?”

“Yes, you did.”

He brushed past me, deliberately rubbing our bodies together even though we were in a giant meadow with plenty of space to avoid each other. “I’m sure, by now, you know letting you go was an impossibility.”

I hid my shiver from his closeness. “Because you wanted to keep me for sex.”

“Originally.” He licked his lips, his gaze skating down my naked legs to my bare toes.

I missed my boots. My soles weren’t nearly as hardened as his. Getting poked by grass stems and having to watch out so I didn’t stand on an irritable bumble bee was annoying.

He licked his lips, not trying to be seductive but achieving it far too well. “But we both know it’s something more now.”

My belly flipped.

I stepped away from him.

He cleared his throat and continued toward the hidden house, swinging that poor rabbit as if it’d personally offended him. “And to answer you fully, the ivy was planted to do exactly what it’s done. It’s eaten up the brickwork and blurred its outlines, keeping Fables secret. However, the dirt on the roof and the weeds in the gutters are thanks to years of winds, storms, and birds that have deposited shit up there, and I haven’t gotten around to cleaning.”

I followed him once the chain pulled tight between us, dragging me forward. “Do you have a ladder?”

He threw a scowl over his shoulder. “Of course.”

“Then I’ll go up. I’ll clean the roof.”

He slammed to a stop, his mouth falling open. “Why?”

“Why?” I stopped too, planting my hands on my hips. “Are you asking why I’d bother cleaning off something that helps aid the camouflage or why I’m offering to help with a task you obviously aren’t keen on?”

“The second part. Both.” He cocked his head. “Why would you help me after...everything?”

I honestly don’t have a clue.

I cocked my head too, both of us watching each other like inquisitive birds, unable to figure each other out, regularly shocked and continually intrigued, but most of all deeply aware that there was something far, far deeper swirling between us than our current captee and captor roles.