The Lone Wolf
There was a single toothbrush in the plastic white cup, a confident sign that Ashley’s suspicions of a secret wife were false. I nervously combed my fingers through my hair, doing my best to shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. There was a dull white shelf behind me with a full shelf of bleach, enough to make me question whether Damian had OCD. Another warning sign was the scent, it was musky and damp like the forest floor, but I couldn’t see anything that would bring about that keen fragrance. I pushed back the grey shower curtains, seeing a ring around the tub to show he must have recently taken a shower.
That’s pretty fucked up, I thought, seeing the amount of grass and small grinds of dirt settled over the ring.
Did he go out this morning? How did he managed to get himself so dirty?
A clanging of dishes sounded outside of the bathroom, reminding me that I had stayed in this room for far too long. I was just about to leave when I noticed a large red first-aid kit shoved underneath the sink, making me bend down to investigate the matter. He had an excessive number of linen bandages at the top. When I moved the items downwards, I observed a full box of plastic blue gloves had been ripped open with force.
I shut the case closed, and abruptly stood to my feet, pressing on the corner of the bathroom mirror to pry it open. There were containers of headache medicine there, but the thing that caught my attention the most was the small container of antidepressants.
Poor Damian, I thought, as I lifted the jar to look at the fine print. He is worse off than I thought he was.
Guilt overwhelmed me to the point that I put the container back and left the bathroom as quietly as I had entered it.
Damian was nowhere to be found, but the sound of boiling water brought me into his kitchen. Six eggs bubbled to the top, bouncing up and down as Damian had set the water in the steel grey pot to boil. I noticed an open bag that contained freshly made bread with blue printing on the front cover, a small detail that let me know he purchased it from a local bakery. I let my eyes glance over his clean looking kitchen, taking note of the hanging knives he left on display over the white tiled wall.
Thirsty, I turned on the tap to fill up my glass with water. I examined the foggy water, and then poured it down the drain, thinking it was best to have filtered water since we were so far up north. Damian was nowhere in sight, so I went over to his fridge and propped it open.
“What the hell?” I mumbled, startled by the shelves of fresh meat that lined the entire fridge. “He’s like an animal,” I mouthed under my breath, noticing how this wasn’t just your standard meat. It was hunting meat; entire jugs of red meat that were cut into large slabs that were two times bigger than the palm of my hand. I bent down to see the labels Damian scrawled over the front of the plastic containers. Deer. Moose.
“There’s some fish in there too,” a deep voice said behind me, making me startle so much that I lost my balance and fell at his feet. “You alright?” Damian laughed, as he gently lifted me up off the floor. “It’s just meat.”
“You have so much!”
“I live out here alone,” he reminded me.
“It could feed a family of four,” I pointed out. “Maybe even more than that.”
He let his hand rest over the top of the fridge, offering me a smile that did not reach his eyes. I felt unnerved under his relentless gaze and thought it best to take a step back. “I suppose,” He deliberated aloud, and made a show to close the fridge door for good.
“You don’t eat human …” I licked my lips nervously. “I mean…”
“You think I’m a cannibal?” he stated with a hint of cynicism. “It’s just … that’s a lot of meat.”
“Hunting meat,” he clarified. “Not human body parts.”
“It was just a question,” I rapped out nervously. “It reminded me of Hannibal, you know.”
Damian pursed his lips at me, hardly amused by my statement. “I’m not Hannibal.” He drew himself away from the fridge and took to the bag of bread where he stealthily pulled out the delicious looking loaf.
“I have an overactive imagination,” I tried to explain. “I’m sorry.”
“It is forgotten,” he lied, as he reached for a long bread knife. “Do you need any help?”
“No.”
“I messed up,” I admitted aloud. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”
“It is not every day that you see tubs of meat in people’s fridge,” he reminded me.
“Yeah, there is a lot in there.” I stepped beside him, watching his large hands adjust the loaf of bread over the withered brown cutting board. “I would have put half of that meat in the freezer, so it doesn’t go bad. You hunt then?”
“I like to hunt,” he admitted, after he let the knife slip over a portion of the bread. “It is not exactly safe doing it alone, so often times I buy the meat from local hunters around here.”
“But you fish?”
“I like to fish,” he admitted. “I’m trying to learn to live off the land.” He tilted his head in my direction, locking eyes with me for the first time in a while. “We’re on native land, did you know that?”
“I didn’t.”
“I used to work with someone here that was Indigenous,” he explained. “He taught me a lot about hunting and fishing.” Damian smiled as memories came back to him. “How to forage for food; eat the right mushrooms and berries.” He let the knife be placed over the bread again. “To be independent.”
“And that is why you can live out here alone?” I pondered aloud with a slow nod of my head in understanding.
“Yes,” Damian quipped with a steady gaze on my person. He lifted a sliver of bread and let it hover in front of my chest. “Try it?”
“You didn’t bake it?”
“Unfortunately, no.” I took the peace offering he gave me and let it slip inside of my mouth, smiling at him agreeably as I enjoyed the soft bread. “You like it?”
I nodded my head, since my mouth was currently full of food. “They have a bakery in a village closest to us,” he informed me.
“It is where I bought that baguette that I gave you yesterday.” He resumed the cutting of his bread with a steady hand. “And there is a deli in the village too. That is where I picked up the cheese and ham.”
“You couldn’t use the meat in the fridge,” I teased.
“There are no boars running around,” he snarled out with resentment. “I only wish that was the case.” He licked his bottom lip greedily, eyes darkening with desire. “This habitat isn’t designed for such creatures.”
“It wouldn’t last a day,” I teased, after I leaned against the countertop to see the front of his face. He was handsome, and a part of me wanted to kiss him. I squinted my eyes at him playfully, knowing he could feel my arresting gaze.
“Night,” Damian clarified under his breath, and then laid the knife down on the table. “You didn’t go outside …”
“I stayed indoors,” I interrupted him quickly, so he would not have any cause to worry about me.
“Alright,” Damian softly replied. “Are your friends staying here for the whole weekend or …”
“We leave Sunday.”
“So, I will have you around for a little bit,” he piped up excitedly. A hand was placed over the side of my arm, and then he took a moment to look deeply into my eyes. A twitch of his lips went upwards, before he forced it to fall back in place.
“Only for the weekend though.”
“Right,” he said in a depressing way. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead yet.”
“Would you ever come into the city?”
“I’m a caretaker here,” he reminded me. “I can’t ever leave.”
“I could come up one weekend,” I suggested. “Rent a cabin … ”
His eyes darkened at the statement, since both of us sensed that was not needed. “Free of charge,” he slyly relayed with a tightened grip over my arm.
He pulled me over to him, bringing me dead center in front of his chest before he placed heavy lips over mine. He kissed me without reserve, overpowering me in a way that was full of aggression. Hands clasped over the back of my shoulders to keep me close, nails nearly barring itself into my skin as he took more of me in. I was left frozen by his touch, caught off guard by the headiness of his kisses that overpowered my own.
He was moving me backwards, gently urging me in that direction until I bumped into his kitchen chair. Damian released me, finally; watching my chest heave with amazement as I <