Page 46 of Forever Ink

Mouse grabbed for my hand just as a loud sound came from the direction of the hillside. Without thinking, I bolted for the barn. The grown-up part of my brain knew trolls didn’t roam the hills of northern England, but the drunk little side said fuck that noise, run.

Mouse let out a startled gasp as he ran. “I know there are no such things as trolls, but—”

“I don’t want to get eaten before I propose to Daddy!” I shrieked, holding Mouse’s hand tighter as we bolted through the barn door.

The inside of the barn was dark but a lot warmer, thanks to the heaters Magnus had on for the animals. Mouse had dropped the pail holding the porridge onto the floor, and he rested his hands on his knees, crouching down and trying to get his breath back between choked out laughs.

“I don’t wanna get eaten before I tell my Daddy I want to marry him and have his babies!” Mouse giggled, badly repeating what I’d said.

“Oh, shut it.” I shoved him, sending him and me sprawling into a pile of hay. I grabbed a hand full of straw and tried to shove it down his hoodie, which ended up with us tussling in the hay, both only stopping because that strange sound echoed down the hill again.

“What the hell is it?” I sat back further in the straw, keeping an eye on the half– open barn door. The world was swimming a little bit and my head was starting to feel a bit woozy.

“I’ve no idea, and I’m too drunk to want to find out.” Mouse lay back on the straw, huffing out a loud breath. “Straw’s comfy, though.”

I lay back more, looking up at the beams of the roof. “Grandad has an old barn like this.”

“That hay loft up there, I got my first blow job there,” Mouse proclaimed proudly.

“Was it any good?”

“Too many teeth, but a lot of enthusiasm.” Mouse snickered.

“Ouch.” I tried not to look smug, thinking about my first blow job. Daddy was a master at making me come, sometimes a little too good at it. I looked over from my comfortable spot to see the pail of porridge. “Should we put that somewhere special?”

Mouse lifted his head moaning. “Shit, need to leave it open so the Nisse can come eat it.”

“That’s a big pail for just a bowl of porridge.” I said eyeing it. Mouse stood up with a groan but grinned back at me “Not just porridge hiding in there.”

He lifted the lid, setting it to one side. The bowl of porridge came next. “This will go over in the corner near Rag’s stall. You take it over and I’ll get the other stuff out.”

I hurried over to the spot Mouse pointed out, stopping to pat Ragnar on the way. He bleated softly before drifting back to sleep. “Hey, do you think sheep count humans to go to sleep?”

Mouse stared at me blankly for a minute before he broke out laughing. “Man, the way your brain works sometimes. But I bet you’re right. I reckon Ragnar thinks about chasing Simon over the fence.”

I snickered at the image as I walked back to Mouse. Peering over his shoulder I saw what he had in the pail. Two small thermoses and something wrapped in cloth.

“Oh, were you naughty and snuck something out of the kitchen?”

Mouse grinned, showing his teeth. “You bet I did.” The straw pile was the most comfortable place to sit so we ended up there again, sipping on our thermos of still warm glögg. Inside the wrapped tea towel were six of the cookies Magnus had baked this morning.

“Your dad is going to throttle you,” I said, taking a cookie and biting into it. Damn, they were good.

“Eh, it’s not like he didn’t expect me to do it. He probably didn’t expect me to pinch more of the glögg, though.” Mouse took a long drink, letting out a happy sigh.

I took a drink, enjoying the warm spiced wine. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure?”

“Have you ever had a daddy? You know, like Simon is for me?”

Mouse shook his head, turning his dark eyes skyward. “Nah, I mean, it’s not something I was sure what to do with.” He turned his head, looking at me. “I grew up knowing that Simon was into some kinky stuff, and when I got older I started, you know, looking at porn. And shit, the things I liked, well. They weren’t soft.”

“The pain stuff?”

“Yeah. You don’t understand it, do you, why I like to hurt sometimes?” Mouse asked.

I shook my head, sending straw flying. “I don’t like the thought of you being hurt.”

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