Page 83 of Savage Keepsakes

“Well, if you get it together, we can drop stuff off at my shop and then laundromat before our date,” I tell her.

“Where’s our date?”

I shrug. I have an idea, just have to figure out where we should eat.

“Okay, I’ll get everything together and put it in your trunk?”

“Backseat. I’ll be back, okay?”

Grabbing my hat, I spin it backwards and head out the front door.

Walking to the barn is different for me, but it isn’t terrible. The overgrowth is annoying and wets the bottom of my jeans, but once I turn into the garage, it is dry.

I dig and add all the teeth, belly buttons, and pieces of bones into two large garbage bags.Thankfully, I get back before her and stuff the trunk with my shit, then head into the house to help her with the laundry.

Once everything is in, we start the drive.

As we cruise to my shop and the laundromat, she cranks up the music. We vibe and the breeze whips her hair around, the slight cupcake smell filling the car. Her presence always enhances our trips, regardless of the destination.

I run everything into the shop and rush up the stairs to my apartment to place my work clothes in the washer, aiming to swing by on the way back to her house to place it in the dryer so I don’t end up with stank-ass clothes.

“I know where to take you for dinner,” I tell her as I get in the car.

“Thai?” Her face perks up and I grin.

Don’t care about the food, but it makes it easier than asking her.

Twenty-One

Lucy

With a belly full of Thai food and my laundry folded in the back of Billy’s car, I’m confused about what we’re doing in the middle of a forest. He pulls two axes from his trunk and I raise my eyebrows.

“What the fuck?”

“Okay, so I figure you must have some anger built up in there.” He points to his temple and hands me an axe before walking to the closest tree and drawing a circle on it with chalk.

“So get it out. Don’t let it fester and become blackened slime in your veins.”

“I’m not angry, Billy. I just don’t know what to feel.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before adjusting his hat. He throws his axe, and it hits outside the target.

“Listen, Lou, it’s okay. I can’t imagine what you must feel, but I want you to get it out,” he says.

With a soft touch, Billy comes up behind me and guides my hands over my arms, instructing me on the precise movements required to throw the axe.

The feel of his warm hands over mine settles something in my chest, but uneasiness still sits just below the surface. I don’t believe it’s going to help.

What worries me the most is the thought of losing him. I hurl the axe, frustration washing over me when it misses the bark, but he rushes over, picks it up, and retrieves his own from the trunk.

“What did you mean by my research?” I ask while I watch him fling the hatchet again. It soars through the air and connects with the tree, creating a satisfying thud.

“I feel like you can connect the dots,” he mutters.

“Each thing I asked about, you tried?”

Before throwing his axe again, he hands me the worn wooden handle.

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