Page 76 of Fear Me Not

41

LEVI

As the winter passes, we have to be more careful with our supplies.

The big Thanksgiving meal was a splurge I hadn’t accounted for when I’d been stocking up for the months we’d be snowed in. We’d done it for Aspen, though, because we’d known it would make her happy.

Christmas was a more sedate affair, and now we’re into the new year.

The knowledge that Aspen might choose to leave when the thaw comes haunts me.

I tell myself she’s happy here now. Just as we’d planned, we’re sharing her beautiful body between us. It’s keeping the darkness of the hotel at bay, but I wonder what else she’s experienced for herself. I notice how, though I try to make myself believe she’s completely happy here, she hasn’t picked up a pencil in some time. She’s replaced occupying her time drawing by fucking us instead, and while I shouldn’t complain about that, it bothers me.

Drawing is a part of who Aspen is. It’s how she understands the world. To see her pencils and sketch pad left untouched means she’s not complete.

My father told her she could make a career of her drawing. Did he understand the implications of that? How we’d be opening up the rest of the world to her?

I remember how she’d asked me to hike her out of here. Does she still think about that now? We’ve been on a couple of hikes together since then, and she hasn’t mentioned it again. That doesn’t mean she isn’t thinking about it, though.

In the storeroom, I go through the grains and canned food we have left, making a mental note of the quantities. We’ve definitely overeaten during these first couple of months. I don’t want to be the bad guy, telling the others that we need to watch what we’re eating, but it’s better that than we enter the final few weeks here with nothing. Aspen doesn’t consume like we do, so she’s not really an issue, and we’ll always make sure she’s fed, but the three of us men take some feeding. We’re all big with plenty of muscle, and that needs calories. Sure, I can go out and hunt, when needed, weather allowing, but at this time of year, even the game are thin on the ground.

Hungry men do not make for a happy household.

I shove on my boots, pull on my thick coat and head out to the outbuildings where the meat is stored for winter. My feet crunch through the snow, though there’s been no fresh snowfall for a couple of days. The cold bites at my face, making my eyes water and my nose run. I have some meat stored inside the house, but, because of the quantity needed for months on end, most of it is kept out here until smaller amounts need to be brought inside. I keep the doors bolted, though they’re not locked, to protect the stores from any hungry animals that might find their way in here. If our supplies were decimated, it would cause a lot of problems for us. Yes, we could probably survive until the thaw on canned and dried goods, but it wouldn’t be fun.

Reaching the door, I slide open the bolt. It’s dark inside, and it takes a moment for my eyes to grow used to the light, or lack of it.

I jolt back at what I see.

A woman is bent over one of the hocks of ham. It’s been torn from where it was hanging and is now lying on the ground. She’s eating as though she’s starving, tearing at the meat with her hands and teeth. She doesn’t seem to have noticed she has company, and so hasn’t turned to face me. but I recognize the long red hair and slender back.

“Aspen? What are you doing⁠—?”

She jerks a look over her shoulder, her movements sudden and weirdly angular.

Is she sleepwalking? It’s the middle of the day, so I don’t know why my thoughts immediately go to that, but that’s what jumps to mind.

She suddenly springs to her feet and rushes at me, a flurry of movement, catching me by surprise. I fall backward, tripping over my own feet. My hands are outstretched, ready to ward her off as she attacks me, but when I regain my senses, I realize she’s vanished.

What. The. Fuck?

My heart is pounding, and I scramble back to my feet. I’m not used to being caught off guard or being frightened, but I’m both those things right now.

I look around for her, but there’s no sign. She’s gone. She must have been sleepwalking, or something similar. The food is all over the ground, so I didn’t imagine things—not that I really believed I had imagined her.

Had she just been hungry? We can’t waste food like that.

I want to go and find her, to check that she’s okay, but I’m kind of shaken. It’s stupid. Has the hotel gotten to her?

I blow out a breath and drag my hand through my hair. Should I go and find her and confront her?

Should I tell my father?

I don’t want it to look like I’m tattling on her, but if there’s something wrong with her, maybe Blake needs to know. I don’t want to give him any ammunition to use against her—or me—though. What if he says he needs to keep a closer eye on her and prevents her coming into my bed?

As the seconds bleed into a minute or more, the strangeness of the moment ebbs away. She must have just been hungry and didn’t want to say anything, and, upon getting caught, rushed away, embarrassed. The last thing I’d want to do is embarrass her further.

Instead, I go to where the ham hock is lying on the ground. I pick it up and screw up my nose. One side is full of teeth marks and the other is all dirt. I’ll have to toss it. I make a mental note to ensure Aspen has more on her plate from now on. She’s naturally slim, but has she lost weight since she’s been here? The stress over everything could do that, but since I’m the one in charge of these supplies, I’m not going to let our girl go hungry.