Private Finished There's a Shadow Just Behind Me

Lochlann's concept of time had always been tenuous at best. So, for now, the term jetlagged meant nothing to him. He felt warn out and exhausted and he had no idea how long it'd taken him to arrive back into the United States from the Manta Carlos Islands.

It was cold and this thin jacket couldn't quite stop the breeze from working through him. The farm was tidier than he left it, nestled near the river in a known flood zone, which is why they'd even been able to afford the property. There were four separate barns, a few coops, and several dozen acres of land. It was isolated from the nearest town and surrounded by barren trees, but it looked...cozy.

Gourds hung like windchimes from the porch. There was a rusted horse shoe nailed to the door. The house was small and unassuming from the outside, gingerbread trim and faded white paint. But it was his. Even if, for the most part, they lived in the lake that skirted the property.

He opened the door and stepped inside. The house was cold but he could smell the warmth of a recent fire started in the wood burner below.

"Lochlann," he heard his mother's voice from the kitchen table.

"I know, i'm home a bit earlier but--"

"You didn't tell me you were bringing company," she said.

Lochlann felt his heart start to race.

He looked up and then felt the handle on his bag slip away.

Guinevere Haze.

Was.

Sitting.

At.

His.

Kitchen.

Table.

With.

His.

Mom.

Lochlann rubbed his eyes with one fist to make sure he wasn't seeing something, and then, he felt his legs tremble, and Lochlann grabbed the chair to sit down suddenly. His legs were weak.

They were both smiling at him.

He kept waiting to wake up but he couldn't.

RE: TO BE TITLED

"Guinevere was just telling me about her travels here," his mother said.

She was a beautiful woman with long arms and legs, tall and though she had broad shoulders, she was not stocky . She was wearing a woolen sweater over a long skirt and leggings. It was a cozy look, like something someone pulled on last minute in the morning without making a real decision as to what to wear. She had thick, dark curly hair with a few strands of grey hidden beneath them, but her face was relatively unlined.

"I wish you were able to take a plane home, it would be so much faster," she sighed. She was busying herself with cleaning up the kettle. The kitchen smelled as though the two of them had been drinking tea.

Guinevere Haze had tea with his mom.

There was a pan on the stove.

"I'm glad you brought company for break," she said. "But you and your girlfriend are both so skinny! Are they not feeding you at the school, or are you just not eating? Honestly, Lochlann, I wish you would take better care of yourself."

Lochlann's mom patted Guinevere's shoulders in a familiar way.

Lochlann couldn't answer.

He couldn't say anything.

"Will Guinevere be staying with you, Lochlann, in the house? I know you normally sleep.....in the barn," she said, opening a spice cabinet. "Unless you'd prefer your own room, Guinevere, dear? We can easily prepare one for you. I'm afraid it won't be quite as cozy as if Lochlann had told us in advance, but that's not surprising. We're delighted to have you!"

RE: TO BE TITLED

Lochlann's face had paled but his mother seemed to believe it was because they hadn't eaten.

"That's good then," she said. "Lochlann, make sure to grab the linens on the way up, and to show Guinevere where we keep the towels."

His mother was mixing what few things they had ready in a bowl and then pouring it into the pan. She fried the pancakes slowly.

"Lochlann, grab the butter and syrup from the cabinets, please," she said. It took Lochlann a long while to respond but he got two plates down, the syrup, the butter, and forks and knives. His fingers were shaking and he moved as though he was in a dream.

"I'm afraid we haven't gone to market this week. Guinevere, is there anything specific you'd like me to get for you from the store?" she asked.

Her voice was tinged more heavily with an accent. It was easy to tell where his Welsh came from.

Lochlann sat back down and kept staring at Guinevere.

There was an unasked question on his face: Why?

When he'd left her cuffed to that tree, Lochlann did not see this coming in a million years.

And, more importantly, why the hell had she just told his mother they'd been sleeping together?

oh

my

god.

Lochlann's face turned scarlet and he covered it with his hands.

It's not like sex was a taboo subject. They were water horses, after all. But it was dawning on Lochlann that he had to pretend that Guinevere Haze was his girlfriend until he could get her alone and demand that she go back to the islands and get out of his life.

RE: TO BE TITLED

Lochlann's mother looked over her shoulder and smiled at them before returning to the pancakes. She had several of them on the plate already. She was almost finished with the batter.

"Well, that's good," she said. "Maybe I'll just have you both go to the store for me, then. Just to be safe."

Lochlann's heart was racing faster.

You're mine.

and then,

I miss you.

There was a pause before Lochlann realized that he couldn't just stare at her, so he pretended he'd been yawning and said, "i missed you, too."

It didn't feel like and lie and he hated that.

His heart thump, thump, thumped.

He hated her for coming here.

There was a noise outside and Lochlann and his mom both perked up, their heads tilting towards the windows.

"It sounds like Lorcan is home," she said.

Lochlann disentangled her hand from his and stood up just as his mother turned the stove off.

"Lochlann, can I...talk to you for a moment?" she said.

She set the pancakes on the table before Guin and said, "Dig in, sweetie. This will only be a moment."

His mother stepped back into the small living room and said to him, "What does she know?"

Lochlann's mouth was gaping.

he had no idea how to answer her. he could barely stand. He grabbed onto the wall for support.

They were only a few feet from Guinevere, talking with their voices hushed.

"I...she...I mean," he stammered.

Oh god what was he going to say?

Guinevere was going to kill him.

She was here to kill him and his whole family.

What the hell.

RE: TO BE TITLED

Though both Lochlann and his mother had snapped their heads up at once when Guinevere approached them, something changed when she said the words and took a step back closer to Lochlann.

His mother's face softened and she nodded. She said, "I see."

Lochlann stiffened and looked like he was going to collapse under Guinever's gentle touch. He felt like she'd just placed a live wire against his skin.

"Let me handle this with Lorcan," she said to the two of them. "For now, carry on as you were."

As if they were all human.

As if this wasn't all a facade.

Lochlann's mother left to go outside, her voice calling out into the darkness. "Lorcan? Is Lawrence with you?"

Lochlann didn't know what to do. He took a hurried step away, putting space between them, and Lochlann turned to look at her.

He wanted to ask what she was doing here, but he changed his mind.

"We should eat," he said.

This way, if anyone walked in, he wasn't at risk for breaking this game she wanted to play.

Plus, he wanted a knife.

RE: TO BE TITLED

When she asked him why, Lochlann stabbed a knife into the pancake and plopped it onto his plate. He ripped it into tiny pieces, and then cut those tiny pieces into quarters until the pieces weren't even pieces.

"Because," he said. "My mom will force you to eat if these aren't finished by the time she gets back."

He gave her a look to indicate that Lochlann wasn't joking.

He swallowed.

He hadn't even put a bite in his mouth. He reached for the butter and threw a slab on his plate.

"You came to my home, Guinevere," he said. "my fucking home."

RE: TO BE TITLED

She wasn't eating and Lochlann could hear his mom outside and he was getting worried. He stuck his force in the buttered pancakes, dump some syrup on it, and forced a forkful into his mouth.

"I didn't run away," he said. "I came home for break. Guinevere, I graduated. There's really no reason for me to be there."

Now, Lochlann took a hurried bite of pancakes, and it was his turn to ask the question.

"Why did you come here?"

RE: TO BE TITLED

"I belong here," he said, frowning between another bite of pancakes.

The fact that she hadn't' eaten any didn't go unnoticed. He forked a section and pushed them past her lips.

If he noticed, so was his mom. he didn't know how to remind her that she wasn't sitting at a kitchen table with people. She was sitting at a kitchen table in a houseful of monsters.

"The manta carlos were only ever temporary," Lochlann said. "I...I don't think I can stay there."

RE: TO BE TITLED

Lochlann almost dropped the fork.

How long had he gone between seeing Guinevere and having an erection? Ten minutes? Practically a new record.

"Yeah,” he said. That the pancakes were good. His stomach was churning. He didn’t want to eat. He was hyperaware of how she ate them, but Lochlann wasn’t foolish enough to think he was going to get away with what he’d done to her.

He set the fork on the table and wrung his hands.

”No, Guinevere,” he said. ”You can..you can still own…me…but I don’t have to be with you.”

His felt hot. Lochlann fanned it. He tried to look away. He didn’t want to see the way he was blushing. They could not be having this conversation.

RE: TO BE TITLED

Guinevere was kneading her forehead but Lochlann was pretty sure she was the one giving him a headache.

He was also distracted watching her eat. He put a napkin over his lap and tried to pretend that he wasn't increadibly turned on by this. It was probably the letlag. or boatlag. or whatever.

Lochlann tried to eat his own food but everytime he brought the fork up to his mouth, he set it down again.

His mother was going to kill him.

He finally managed to take a bite.

"I don't have to do anything," Lochlann said. He could hear his father's voice outside as Lorcan talked with his mother and now his heart started to race. He dropped his own voice.

"Guinevere, I can't go back. I'm done. I'm so...I'm so tired, Guinevere," he said. That wasn't what he meant to say, but he was resting his head in his hands.

he was tired of trying to figure out what she made him feel.

Right now, he was irritated beyond belief that she'd shown up at his home. he was terrified that she was here to hurt his family--she wouldn't kill him, but that wouldn't mean she wouldn't kill his parents or his siblings. And still, when she said she wouldn't kill him, that was before he left her handcuffed to a tree.

So he was annoyed, scared, horny, and he kind of hated her.

He wanted to just go to bed and when he woke up, he wanted Guinevere Haze on the next plane back home to

to what?

He wondered what his home looked like to her.

He wondered if she recognized what it was just like he recognized her apartment for what it was: a show piece. A model home. Something that you had for other people's benefits, to demonstrate that yes, I am a functional human in society.

What was he sending Guinevere Haze back to?

He wasn't vain enough to think that he was all she had. That thought would never, ever cross his mind. But it did cause him to pause, cause him to wonder what she'd do when she was doing him.

"I'm so...I'm so tired," he said.

Was he tired of hating her?

Probably not.

He still felt something simmering beneath his gut like a coal covered in ashes that none the less still emitted heat.

He stabbed at one of the pancake pieces and took a bite.

He looked at her.

he decided he most definitely hated her.

"Whatever you're looking for, you're not going to find it here," he said. "You're not going to find anything that could make me go back there. Find someone else to torture, Guinevere."