Luke never tolerated weakness anyway.
It takes Richter almost half an hour to get a third of the way through the trunk, and although the notch isn’t quite big enough, I let it slide. “Go ahead and switch to the opposite side.”
“God dammit!” Richter growls, resting the axe on the ground at his side as he breathes hard. “How long are you going to make me stay out here?”
“Until you’re done.”
“And when is that?” he snaps, and I want to drag him through the woods and show him what the strap feels like because I’m sure he’s never felt the sting of it.
Luke was too gentle with him—something I wasn’t sure was possible for the man. But this shitty attitude is why the rules matter. This is why my home has consequences, and the consistent use of them has meant I’ve had to implement them less and less. And Richter may not be mine, but that doesn’t mean he gets to be disrespectful.
“Bryden!” he shouts, exasperation tainting his voice.
“I already told you what was required, Richter. Do you need me to repeat it?”
“Chop down trees,” he mimics, lowering his voice a little in an effort to match mine. “How many fucking trees?”
“Two, but if you want to keep being disrespectful, I can make it three.”
“You’re not going to make it anything,” Richter grumbles, dropping the axe into the snow as he walks away from me, but I don’t bother moving. He gets to the trees and stops, unwilling to walk into the woods in the dark.
“Here’s the thing, Richter. You don’t know how to get out of here, and if you walk in the wrong direction… you’ll be walking a very long time. In the cold.” I point around us casually before resting my arms on my knees again. “Even if you’re just slightly off, you won’t find the house. A slight misstep here and two hundred feet later you’re pretty off course, and there’s not much out here.”
“This is bullshit.”
“This is a consequence, Richter,” I say, grinning at him when he faces me again. “And, trust me, there are worse ones.”
“If I chop down the two trees, you’ll take me back?” he asks, digging in the snow for the axe.
“Then you’re going to cut the branches off and cut the trees into smaller logs.”
“That’s going to take all night!” he shouts, kicking the tree in front of him.
“At this rate, I think you’re right.” Chuckling, I point at the tree. “May as well get started.”
He hesitates, fuming in anger, but eventually he picks up the axe again and starts on the opposite side of the tree.
I wait for Richter to get into a rhythm with it, until he’s no longer wasting energy on cursing or muttering about me. When his focus is completely on the task at hand, I stand up. “You’re almost through a third up here. After that, switch back to your original notch. Keep alternating the swings but pay attention to the tree and figure out which way you’re going to run when it starts to fall. Come up with a few paths before it falls.”
“Okay,” he says, bringing the axe back for another swing.
“Good. Since you’re doing so well, I’m going to go get us some coffee and snacks to help us stay warm.”
“You’re going to leave me out here?” Richter asks, stepping away from the tree, and he definitely looks like a little boy right now.
“Not for long,” I answer, walking toward the trees, and then I hear Luke’s voice in my head, and I chuckle. “It’s like our father used to say. Some time alone in the dark makes everyone rethink their choices.”
“Bryden—”
“I’ll be back soon, Richter. Just get that tree down and start stripping the branches off.” I wave at him, flicking the flashlight on as I guide myself out of the woods. I’ve got things to check on in the house, but I won’t leave him out there alone. Not all night. And I’ll even bring back the coffee I promised.
Little things like that help to build trust.
Like food dropped into the oubliette.
By morning, Richter should have a better understanding of what it means to be a man and how one can never avoid consequences. And if his hands are blistered and bleeding—which wouldn’t surprise me as unused to labor as they are—then those marks will help him remember that my rules aren’t optional.
For anyone.
Twenty-Four
Skylar
Cleo went back into her fort with Sierra after Heather left. Now it’s just, me, the girls in their hideaway, and Moira. A gentle knock on the door greets my ears next, taking my attention away from my sister.
“What’s the password?” Sierra shouts from inside the fort.
“Open sesame,” comes the reply.
“You have solved the riddle, you may enter!” Cleo calls out, which sends both of the girls into a giggle fit. Moira goes over to stick her head into the fort, shushing them. “Everyone else is sleeping, you can keep playing as long as you use your inside voices, okay?”
One of the girls shoots their hands out and pulls Moira into the fort and I smile. They love her so much because they’re used to her. It’s no wonder no one here trusts me—they’ve only known me for the better part of a day.
Since the girls have become preoccupied with whatever game they’re playing, I decide that I’ll open the door and, hopefully, whoever is on the other side will provide some much-needed adult conversation. Something that doesn’t have to do with rules, or how to do chores in a home I don’t live in, or how to be a ‘good child’ to a man that isn’t even my father.
Something… normal.
I put my hand on the doorknob and glance over my shoulder again before I
