Page 31 of Jackson's Redemption
Kate
Today, it was a moose. A big, freaking moose with a massive rack of horns. He wasn’t a hundred feet away.
“Incredible,” I whispered, snapping as many images as I could. My finger constantly clicking the shot button. We were out in the open, unlike with the bears, where Jackson had insisted on using the brush to shield us.
“You can get a little closer. They don’t startle too easy. But not too close. Doubtful he’ll attack, but if he bolts, I don’t want him running you over.”
I snapped picture after picture as the big animal shifted his head in different directions. “It’s like he’s posing for me.”
“He’s majestic enough. He just might be.”
That surprised me. That Jackson had any whimsy in him. I had spent three full days with him. Two of those nights in his bed in the dark of the cabin. He was rough. He was intense. He wasn’t very funny.
And I didn’t think he had a hint of lightness in him.
I had asked him what he’d been like before prison, but he didn’t want to talk about that time. He only wanted to be the person he’d forged himself into after he got out of jail.
I was captivated by that man. By every aspect of him.
“Thank you for this.”
Then I turned my camera in his direction. He hated it. Always put his hand up like he could stop the force of the picture from happening. But it didn’t matter. Even a partial picture of Jackson was still drool worthy.
“I didn’t ask the moose to make an appearance,” he said, reminding me this was all happenstance.
“No,” I agreed. “But you know what moose poop looks like opposed to bear poop and apparently that’s important.”
The moose, maybe offended by my mention of his poop, wandered off into the woods.
“Come on,” Jackson said, reaching out for my hand. “We need to find a creek. That moose’s mouth was dripping, which means there is one around here somewhere.”
“What are we going to find at the creek?” I was hoping for more bear shots.
“A washcloth and a bar of soap. We stink of sex and sweat.”
He was right. We did. It hadn’t bothered me last night. And the way he kissed and sucked every inch of my skin, it hadn’t bothered him, either. The idea of a fresh palate for tonight, though…
God, I was already thinking about tonight. What he would do to me next, what he would make me do to him. It didn’t matter. I was insatiable when it came to him. Happy to be caught up as his sexual slave. So easy to let go and let him decide how he wanted me, what he wanted from me.
Although I wondered sometimes if he really was taking what he wanted from me, or if he was giving me everything he thought I needed.
It felt like the latter. Because he was doing exactly that. And it was way more than just sex and orgasms. He was giving me back myself, making me think my life wasn’t over or my future was some dark space I would wander through until I died.
I was surrounded by creatures who didn’t judge. Held all night by a man who didn’t judge. I wasn’t dirty-cop scum. I wasn’t my father’s daughter.
I was me. Here, in Alaska, I was me and I hadn’t realized how much I missed that along with everything else.
We made our way along an overpass that had a pretty sharp edge. A peek over it I could see the creek below, but it was forty feet down and there was no way to get to it. Jackson, however, found a path down the slope that, while steep, was still doable.
“Stay up here,” he said as he stopped. He pulled his gun from his pack, a Glock, and handed it to me without a word. The firearm felt natural in my hand, like something that had been missing, even if I hadn’t noticed. Then he started down the jagged path toward the bottom.
“Why do I need to stay up here?”
“Need you to be a lookout. Watering spot will attract a lot of animals. Some dangerous. And I need you to be looking out for my ass. Not looking around to take a bunch of pictures.”
I saluted him. “Yes, sir. Your ass isveryimportant to me.”
His lips twitched and that made me smile. I watched as he carefully made his way down to the creek. The pack he’d carried over his shoulder, I assumed, had the soap and washcloth.
