Beyond the Pine (5 page)

Asher

When I wake the next morning and hear her voice, two things happen.

First, I internally curse myself for not having the balls to run off in the middle of the night like I’d planned.

Second, my body reacts on every level.

What the hell is she doing here?

She lives here, you idiot.

What the hell are
you
doing here?

In all fairness, I tried to leave last night. When I saw her come into my makeshift room, I’d had every intention of saying my silent goodbyes and letting her go.

However, once I saw her face, tasted her breath on my lips, I knew goodbye was no longer an option.

Not for now anyway.

I lie silently in my cot, secretly worshipping every word that escapes her lips as she speaks to the nurses at their little station. It’s not typical for Riley to be here in the morning, so I have to assume she’s not intent on staying long. That truth alone has me clinging to every word, every single breath like an addict as my cock begins to swell with need.

The delicious ache building below is more than I’ve felt in too long. The need to relieve myself becomes overwhelming as her soft voice trails through the room. The memory of her breath on my skin, the feel of her as she fell against my chest overtakes me. Before I can stop myself, I’m biting my lip to stifle a groan, my fingertips teasing the fabric straining over me.

Fuck... I crave her.

I’m losing myself to the sound of her voice, the deliciously sinful fantasy of being inside her when I hear the shift of someone’s feet making their way over.

Before my perversions are noticed, my hand slides up to my stomach and away from my cock. When my eyes flutter open reluctantly, I’m surprised to find Riley standing in the small opening to my room.

“Good morning, Asher,” she says quietly, nodding politely as she tries to look anywhere but my bare chest.

“Mornin’,” I answer, my voice still husky. “I’m surprised to see you here so early.”

“I’ve been temporarily reassigned to the infirmary,” she explains, swallowing hard as she steps over to the window above my bed and pulls the curtains open. “You’ll be seeing me every morning until the Reverend feels I’m ready to return to my chapel duties.”

I watch as a look of shame mixed with apprehension covers her face, filling my chest with an intense need to protect her.

“I can’t say I hate the thought of seeing you every day,” I admit, my voice still low and husky as I slowly begin to sit upright, taking in her crimson cheeks as she gazes out the window. “But something about the look on your face tells me this wasn’t your choice?”

Slowly, Riley begins to shake her head, her eyes still trained on something outside the window. Clearing her throat, she blinks her tears away and reluctantly faces me.

“It wasn’t,” she confesses, cementing my thoughts. “But we have to trust the Reverend. If he feels like I need to reflect, then that’s just what I have to do.”

“And what are you reflecting on, may I ask?”

“I’m not sure I’m supposed to talk about it,” she says quietly, busying herself with tidying up my already pristine living quarters. “I thought you’d like to take a walk today? Some of the men from the east end of the farm finally got your motorcycle here and they’ve stored it in the stable for you. I thought you might like to take a look, try and get your joints moving some?”

The thought of setting my eyes on the mangled metal that once was my prized possession doesn’t put a good feeling in my chest. Taking her in though, I can see that this walk might actually do her more good than me. Besides, I can tell regardless of what’s expected of her, she’s got something hiding inside her chest that’s just itching to get out. Maybe a walk might make it easier for me to get her talking.

“Maybe you’re not supposed to talk,” I shrug, scratching my beard as I release a small sigh. “But it might make you feel better.”

As I stand to face her, taking the shirt from her hand, I tower over her, silently savoring in the way her eyes lock onto my bare chest. After a moment, she diverts her gaze, meeting my eyes as I stretch the thin cotton over myself.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I whisper, my lips quirking up slightly as I see her blush again. “All your secrets are safe with me, Riley.”

“Thank you for the offer, Asher,” she smiles nervously, reaching for the pair of riding boots I’ve not had on my feet since they brought me here. Her eyes wander curiously around my small quarters, falling on the few personal items I’d had with me during the accident. When she spots my cut hanging over the back of the small wooden chair in the corner, she traces her fingertips over the colors before looking over her shoulder, giving me her eyes. “What’s this?”

“My cut,” I tell her, watching her return her eyes to it, still studying it intently. “I wear it when I ride.”

“I remember,” she replies, her voice just above a whisper as she gives it a final look, lingering over the wide patch that reads
Bastards Rebellion
before turning back around to face me. “You were wearing it when they found you. It’s the first I’ve ever seen.”

“No shit?” I ask, surprised. Her cheeks heat crimson at my language and the sight of it makes me smile instantly. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I laid it down where I did then.”

Her eyebrows quirk together in confusion, pulling a deep chuckle from my chest before I quickly pull my forgotten boots on, shaking my head in slight amusement as she offers me the small cane she brought in with her.

“No thanks, I think I’ll take my chances,” I smirk, gesturing toward the cut before looking down at her with a wicked smirk. “You want me to put it on?” I husk.

“Do you want to put it on?” she asks innocently, my attempt at flirting clearly falling on deaf ears.

“Can’t blame a guy for tryin’,” I sigh, shaking my head when she looks up at me in question.

We make our way outside, my joints feeling stiff and sore in ways I’d never experienced before. As I take the steps leading out of the infirmary, she offers her hand. I take it, holding on longer than I really need to in order to keep the soft feel of her skin against mine.

“If you start to feel lightheaded or need to take a break, you should let me know,” she says, the green of her sad eyes offering me sanctuary in ways they shouldn’t.

“Okay,” I nod, appreciating the slow pace of her steps.

For a moment, we walk in near silence, the only exception when Riley smiles and says hello to those who pass. I take in everything around me, somehow surprised with how rustic and dated it all seems.

It was pretty clear by looking at the antique equipment in the infirmary and Riley’s attire that I’d stepped into a place unlike the rest of the world. However, as I look around me, I feel as though I’ve been transported into another dimension.

There’s no pavement as far as the eye can see. As we slowly walk down the orange tinted roads, the feel of the soft dirt beneath my feet intrigues my senses, the clean air finally filling my lungs for the first time since I’d arrived.

I look over the small cabins we pass, each of them modest, the need for materials lost in this hidden corner of the world.

“Which one is yours?”

“That one over there,” she gestures to one of the small, stone cabins across the way. “With the purple flowers on the porch.”

The faded curtains hanging in the window are lightly swaying with the gentle breeze moving passed us, a small rocking chair and a metal watering can the only other two things on the simple porch that’s got my attention.

“And that’s where you grew up?”

“I was born right there in the back bedroom,” she nods, glancing up at me. “Sister Rebecca delivered me and then less than two months later, my mother delivered her daughter, Sara, just two houses down. On the other side of Brother Josiah’s house.”

“No shit?” I ask, chuckling weakly to myself when her cheeks flare red.

“I was sleeping in my bassinet in their living room when Sara took her first breath. We’ve been best friends ever since. She’s more like a sister, I’d say,” she smiles soft. “Where did you grow up, Asher?”

“No place like this, that’s for sure,” I say quietly, releasing a small sigh as I continue to take everything in.

I know she wants an answer, but when I fall silent, she doesn’t push, which I appreciate.

Horses and cattle are in the distance, dominating a large pasture beyond the center of the small compound we’re nestled in. In the other direction, there are crops further than I’d have expected, reaching all the way back to a line of pine trees that offer sanctuary to the people within its walls.

As we slowly make our way down the narrow path, my concentration falters when shade seems to fall over us. Glancing up, I find the source of the shadow lingering overhead.

At the end of the road we’re traveling on, the chapel stands, its tall, white steeple towering over us, shading the path we’re traveling on.

I glance away, feeling uneasy for some reason as I take it in. Instead, I begin studying the farmlands off into the distance on the opposite edge of the property. I’m about to ask Riley about them when her soft voice cuts me off.

“I had a disagreement with the Reverend,” she admits quietly, her eyes locked ahead toward the chapel. “I shouldn’t have said anything,” she continues, shaking her head with regret. “But have you ever known something was wrong, even if everything you’d ever been taught told you it wasn’t?” she asks, as she looks up at me, the sadness in her eyes slicing into my chest as she comes to a slow stop, facing me. “Have you ever known you should just keep your mouth shut, do the right thing, but something inside just wouldn’t let you?”

I take her in, the irony in her question not escaping me since she’d just perfectly described last nights’ mindfuck without even knowing it. I knew walking away was the smart choice. I knew leaving this place and never looking back was the thing I should do, but as I lay in my cot last night, rolling it over in my mind, I wasn’t strong enough to leave her.

“Yes,” I admit, nodding slowly as I allow my eyes to dance over her features.

“I know I shouldn’t have questioned him,” she sighs, continuing her slow walk until we make it to a large, wooden structure. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I just... Asher, I couldn’t keep quiet.”

I follow her in to the narrow opening, thankful when she directs me to a small bench in what I can now see are stables, completely silent except for the occasional snuff of the horses inside.

“Your motorcycle is in here and you look like you could use a rest,” she says, patiently helping me sit before she takes her place at my side, staring out in front of us.

“Thanks,” I sigh, the ache in my broken ribs flaring slightly as I release a deep breath. “So, what was it you couldn’t keep quiet about?” I ask, glancing down at her. “You seem pretty into all this structure. What was so awful that you felt the need to piss off your Reverend?”

Her cheeks heat slightly again at my language and I find myself growing drunk on her gentle laughter.

“Well, I certainly didn’t do it on purpose,” she smirks, glancing over at me before growing serious. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Asher, but I feel as though I may have already said too much. Maybe it would be best if we talk about something else?”

“Okay,” I nod, never one to press a subject, although I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t see the frustration still written all over her features. “What would you like to talk about?”

She sits quietly for a moment, picking apart her thoughts as she considers her next words carefully. I’m memorizing the light freckles dusted over her cheeks when she suddenly turns to face me.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.”

“What’s it like out there?”

“Out where?”

“They used to tell us stories,” she starts, her voice remaining low as her eyes drift off, caught up in a memory. “They told us we should never leave this place because out there, it’s not safe,” she trails off, her expression caught somewhere between curiosity and fear. “They say people are unkind, that they take for themselves without regard for others. That they lie, cheat, steal, worship flesh...” she continues, her voice trailing off as she takes in my broad arms, swallowing hard. “Is all of that true?”

The wonder in her eyes has me jealous, wishing I’d been the one to put it there. The fact that she’s never seen the world as I know it is something I can’t grasp, the fantasy of being the one to show it to her wrapping itself around my mind and refusing to let go.

“You’ve never seen it for yourself?” I ask, the surprise obvious in my voice as she slowly shakes her head.

“No, not really,” she admits. “I went into town once with my mother when I was very small, but I don’t remember very much about it.”

“What do you remember?” I ask, savoring the way her lips slowly curl up, revealing a soft smile.

“It wasn’t scary,” she says, shaking her head. “We went to get supplies for the infirmary. I remember holding my mother’s hand as we made our way through town. Everything was so different, so bright...” she trails off, lost in the memory before she shakes her head clear, gently settling it against the large wooden beam behind her. “The ground felt different beneath my feet and the air? Somehow it... it
tasted
different,” she whispers, her eyes twinkling slightly. “I remember walking by a place serving breakfast and I could smell the coffee,” she muses, the simple memory something I’d taken for granted most every day of my life seeming to give her so much pleasure. “And there were so many cars,” she giggles. “I’d only ever seen a few here at the farm, but out there, they seem to be everywhere, each with a different type of music or sound pouring from them. Things I’d never heard before or since that day.”