Wilderwood Ch. 06

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Author’s Note: I always intended there to be a break after Ch. 05, which is the mid-point of the story. I didn’t intend that break to be quite so long as it has been, and the remaining chapters will be coming over the next few weeks.

Thanks to all who have liked and commented on the story so far.

= = = = = = = = =

We were talking in Pop! the other day about those Previously On… segments you get at the start of tv shows. I was saying how I really don’t like them because they often end up being spoilers. Like when they re-cap something that happened all the way back in a previous season and you know that the only reason it’s being mentioned again is because it’s going to be important in the new episode.

It did get me to thinking though. If I had to recap the last six weeks of my life what would I say?

My sister Emma came home at the end of her first year of college, only now she’s this incredibly hot goth girl who wears lots of black leather and has pierced nipples and a tattoo of a scorpion on her arm. A couple of weeks after she came home she broke up with her boyfriend – who she later head butted in a biker bar called Hog Wild – and we ended up fucking that night when our parents were out. We’ve been doing that ever since.

Our parents still don’t know about us. Noone does, except my friend Zack, who walked in on us when we were making out in the back room of the comic book store where I work, and Lucy, one of Emma’s friends who is now fucking Zack and who the hell knows why because she’s an asian sex bomb and he looks like a frog. Apparently it’s working out for them though.

Oh and Lauren knows as well. She’s the Queen of the Coven, which is the group of girls Emma has been hanging out with since she came home. They’re all college age goth/metal hotties and have slumber parties in the basement of Lauren’s house, which is some kind of sex dungeon. So I’m told. Lauren was my sister’s roommate when they were both at college upstate and Emma told her because she figured that once I started college in the fall I’d be up there with her and Lauren knowing would make it easier for us to be together.

Only my plans were to go to college here. Here being Wilderwood, a small town in New England. Wilderwood is also our family name, as well as the name of the hotel where Emma has a summer job as a maid, the local paper – the Wilderwood Gazette – and the forest that stretches for miles north of the town. Most of which is owned by my great-uncle, including the valley, which is more often referred to as The Wilderwood and is supposed to be haunted by a big hairy monster called the Wilderwood Devil.

Basically everything in town is called the Wilderwood something or other, because our family founded the place hundreds of years ago. About the only thing that isn’t is the comic book shop where I work, which is called Pop! goes the weasel (I have no idea why) and that’s probably only because Steve, the owner, is a Brit.

My great-uncle lives outside of town in a big house on the edge of the Wilderwood, and doesn’t get along with my dad, who works in real estate, because he won’t allow any development of the forest. I guess it doesn’t help that Dad is really obviously waiting for the old man to die so he can inherit everything.

It’s only four weeks until the start of college and while I now want to go upstate – with Emma – our parents are taking a long time to say yes or no to that. Meanwhile we get together whenever we can, but it’s not easy when we live in a town where everyone knows everyone, and there’s also a chance that Alex Trowley, the local YouTube star and conspiracy nut, will discover our secret while chasing rumors that the Emma and her friends are actual witches.

(They’re not. Just saying.)

I could say all that, but I’ve no way of knowing what parts of it will be important later on.

= = = = = =

I’m up in the attic, rummaging through all the stuff we don’t use but have never got rid of. It’s early on Sunday afternoon and there’s plenty of light coming in so I can see what I’m doing.

I’m surprised at just how much junk there is up here. It’s mostly old electronics, Dad’s football gear from when he was at college, old toys from when me and my sister were kids, and so many pictures and lights and ornaments and rugs left over from all the times Mom has redecorated the house.

I’m sifting though one of the boxes when Emma walks in.


I look up from the box. “Hey, Sis.” She’s wearing a loose fitting black tee and tight fitting black vinyl pants and sneakers. This is what passes for casual with my sister now, and I’m so okay with that.

“What are you doing up here?”

“Just looking for something, ” I say. Part of my attention is on the boxes that I’m still searching through, but mostly I’m watching my sister as she walks over to me. She moves quieter than I do, managing not to step on the creakier floorboards, and crouches down beside me, looking at me with her bright green eyes.

“Find anything interesting?”

“Not konya escort really.”

“No dark family secrets?”

“I don’t think we have any dark family secrets.”

“It’s not really the place for it, ” says my sister, glancing around the room as she drags one of the boxes over and opens it up.

I know what she means. The attic is dusty and cluttered, but it’s also light and airy. When we were younger – before Dad and Uncle Nathan had their falling out – we’d go up to the big house on occasion, and a couple of times when we were there we’d sneak away and explore the attic. It was dark and mazy up there, full of cobwebs and all the weird things the Wilderwoods had accumulated over generations, and we thought it was really cool, even though I don’t like spiders and it was always Emma that brushed them away from us, laughing at my reaction to them.

Then Mom found out we were going up there and barred us from the attic because she decided it wasn’t safe. Mom spent a lot of time finding things we enjoyed doing up at the Hall and stopping us from doing them.

Emma laughs as she delves into the box she’s opened. “Check this out.”

it’s a box of brochures from one of Dad’s old projects. She lifts one of them out and reads the title. “Crosswood Court, a new living solution for Young Wilderwood.”

“That’s on the campus, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Lucy said she had a place in there last term.”

“How was it?”

“She said it sucked. She’s planning on living off campus this year.”

“Did you live off campus, upstate?”

Emma shakes her head. “No. It was okay though. Everything is a lot more spread out there, and anyway, ” she grins mischeviously, “Lauren liked being able to drag her professors back to her room between classes.”

“Her professors?”

“Oh yeah. Lauren has a serious thing for older male authority figures.” My sister looks thoughtful. “I guess she has daddy issues. He lives out in California and she hardly ever sees him, though it’s his place up on Hamilton Hill she stays at when she’s home like now.”

“Wait, Lauren lives on Hamilton Hill?”

Emma nods. “Uh huh. The mayor lives next door.”

That surprises me. Lauren Whitley’s house – with it’s fabled sex dungeon – has often been a topic of discussion and wild speculation between me and my friends, but I don’t think I’d ever realised that it was up on Hamilton Hill, which is the seriously upscale neighborhood of Wilderwood. It’s where the old money lives, like my friend Chris’s family, who own the Mill and who have have been a big part of the town for almost as long as we have.


I’ve always wondered why we don’t live up there, instead of in this bland suburb. Seems like we should.

“I guess Lauren’s dad is rich then?”

“I guess so.” Emma flips through a couple of pages of the brochure then tosses it back into the box. “He’s a movie producer. Horror movies mostly, I think. Lauren’s screened a couple of them up at the house.” She laughs. “She just does it to riff on them. They’re pretty bad.”

I push a rolled up rug aside and see a tuft of red fur sticking out of the top of another box. “Gotcha, ” I say triumphantly, opening up the box and pulling out an only slightly dusty red plushy. It’s half bear, half werewolf, with short curved horns sticking out of his forehead, pointed ears, mad green eyes and a wide open mouth full of plastic fangs.

“Omigod!” Emma squeals. “Wildy!”

Wildy, also known as the Wilderwood Devil and the town’s very own local Bigfoot legend in plush form. A couple of the local stores used to sell these to tourists, but I think that died off a while back.

I hold him out to her. “I remembered he was up here when we were out at Conway. Thought you might like to have him.”

“I love him!”

My sister’s smile is amazing. Sure, she smiles a lot – I guess the whole moody goth thing is more of a fashion statement than a lifestyle choice – but this time is different. She’s all lit up, and it’s so good to see.

Wildy gets a hug and then I get a hug, which turns into a kiss, and I get pushed back into the rugs as my sister climbs onto me, her tight vinyl pants creaking softly as they stretch against her legs. I slide one arm down her back and spread my fingers over her smooth and shiny ass as her tongue delves into my mouth…

…and then we both start laughing because Wildy is squeezed in between us and the tufts of fur in his ears are tickling my nose.

Emma sits up, but still straddling me and still holding Wildy. “He’s kind of dusty, ” she says, patting the plushy down.

“He’s been up here for a while.”

“Hiding out from the world, ” says Emma.

“Like us?”

“Only for a few more weeks, little brother, ” she grins and wriggles her hips, making me groan softly.

I can’t help but glance across to the door of the attic. Emma grins and grinds down on me some more. “They’re downstairs, ” she says.

Meaning our parents. Ever since we got caught in the storeroom konya escort bayan of Pop! By Zack we’ve been a bit more careful of when and where we get together, and that means here in the house, when our parents are home, has been out of bounds.

Of course in this town there’s not many places we can actually go together, so the last few days have left me horny as hell, and right now my cock is straining at my jeans while my sister rubs herself against me. Even fully dressed – admittedly in a black bad girl t-shirt and tight black vinyl pants – she’s a really sexy sight, with her back arched and her shock of dark hair falling over her eyes.

Though it would, maybe, be a more erotic sight if she wasn’t still holding Wildy.

“Can you at least put the plushy down?”

Emma frisks up the tufts of fur in Wildy’s ears with her fingers. “He’s got your ears.”

“Sure, and your eyes.”

“You’re just jealous.”

True. Emma’s the only one in the family with green eyes, and they’re really striking. It’s even more noticeable since she dyed her hair black.

“Sis…” I reach up and draw her back down into another kiss. She tastes so good, and smells so good, and we’re reaching down for each other’s belts as we roll off the rug… and one of the floorboards underneath us creaks alarmingly loudly.

I’m reminded of the walkway at Conway, though at least this time nothing actually breaks. All the same the idea of us crashing through the ceiling and landing on our parent’s bed is enough for us to sit up and disentangle.

Reluctantly on my part. Really reluctantly.

My sister sighs as she dusts herself off. “I can’t wait for us to get out of here, ” she says.

= = =

Mom looks slightly startled when, a little later, Emma walks through the lounge with Wildy.

“What is that?”

Dad looks up and laughs. “The Wilderwood Devil.” He looks past Emma to me, trailing into the room behind her. “I didn’t know you still had him.”

“Yeah, I found him up in the attic.”

“I think he’s cool, ” says Emma, on her way into the kitchen, “but he does need a wash.”

Dad watches my sister walk into the kitchen then turns back to me. “Hey, sport, you wanna take the car out for a spin?”

Right. Driving lessons. I still need to get my licence.

“Sure, ” I say.

“Don’t be late, ” Mom calls after us as we head out. “Remember we’ve got that thing tonight.”

“I remember, ” Dad calls back.

I’m surprised to see we’re taking Dad’s car, rather than Mom’s, since he’s usually reluctant to let me behind the wheel of the BMW, so I wonder if there’s a reason why he’s doing so today. I don’t have to wonder for long, because as we head up out of town he drops the small talk and driving advice and I can tell from his tone that I’m in for A Talk.

This is not the first time we’ve had A Talk. Past subjects have included why I should think about playing more sports… why I shouldn’t spend so much time in my room… why I shouldn’t be scared to talk to girls… why I should be talking to more girls… and one time when I think he was trying to say it was okay if I was gay and not actually into girls, but I’m not sure seeing as that time he changed the subject before he’d even finished bringing it up.

I think Mom pushed him into that one.

This time it’s about college. With only a few weeks to go I should be glad that he’s finally saying something other than ‘we’ll see’, but as he starts talking about my grades, and the application process, and the paperwork, and the timing… it doesn’t take long for me to see where this is going.

“Your mom and I…”

Oh shit.

Any time my Dad ever uses those words I know what’s coming next. It’s a big No, and he’s making sure I know it’s not just his decision.

“…we think you should stay home, at least for the first year.” He pauses a moment, like he’s waiting for me to say something, then goes on when I don’t. “It’s a big change, Junior, and you might find you’ll want us close at hand once you’re in that world.”

He really is wheeling out the big guns for this one. First “your mom and I” and now “Junior.” Oh I’m getting the full on Male Authority Figure treatment from him today. He’s even doing that thing with his voice that makes him sound like The Dad in one of those old movies where the kids aren’t alright. He’ll be pulling out a pipe next and lecturing me about the dangers of marijuana, rock and roll music and communism.

I take a deep breath and the seatbelt drags at my chest. The car feels like a cage. I’m trapped in here and I can’t make a scene because I’m driving – under his instruction just to underline how he’s in charge here – and maybe that’s exactly why he set it up like this.

“You were okay with Emma going upstate last year, ” I mutter into the steering wheel.

“Well, she wanted to go up with Greg, ” he says.

Yeah, and dumped him inside of a month.

“Your mom didn’t want to break them up.”

Meaning she was already escort konya planning the wedding because Greg Jackson is the kind of small town dudebro this place cranks out by the dozen. The kind that does well in sports and drives a 4×4 and then after they graduate they go into the family business and marry the girl next door.

“Can’t stand in the way of young love, ” Dad adds, chuckling.

Oh god, just kill me now.

“Besides, it’s different for girls. It’s good for her to see other places too.”

And it’s not for me?

I don’t bother arguing, because this is very obviously final, and if I do push back I could lose my temper and say something I’ll regret. Not that it isn’t tempting right this minute to throw all his bullshit back in his face.

I guess he takes my silence as agreement, or at least acceptance, because he claps me on the shoulder and gives another fatherly chuckle. “It’ll still be a great experience. I remember my college days…”

I tune out from the story he starts telling and look straight ahead, like I’m focusing on the road. All I’m actually thinking is that there’s just these few weeks of summer left and then Emma will go off upstate again.

Until now I didn’t realise just how much I’m dreading that. Our relationship is almost impossible as it is, and I really don’t know how we can keep it going if we’re hundreds of miles apart. The thought of not seeing her for weeks or months…

“…and Chip still has the scar from that night.” Dad chuckles and I nod and fake a smile like I actually heard the story he was telling.

“Good times, ” he says, drumming a little beat out on the dash for a moment before adding, “So, we’re good, right?”

“Sure, Dad.” I just nod. Fuck it. The sooner this drive is over the better and can we please stop talking now?

“Good, ” he says, and then adds, “So what’s going on with you and your sister?”

Oh. Shit.

We’re on a clear and straight stretch of the road that leads out of town toward Conway, and that’s the only reason I don’t manage to wreck the car in the next few seconds since I simultaneously tense up (on the accelerator) and go limp (on the wheel.) The car lurches and sways a little but Dad just chuckles.

“Great road handling on this baby, huh?”

“Sure, ” I say with what I hope is a confident smile and not a desperate grimace. “Really tight.”

“German engineering, ” he says, nodding like he’s letting me into a secret. “I’m all for buying American in most things, but when it comes to cars…”


If I ever want to get my Dad off my back I just do the bro act. Cars, sports, all that shit. Girls too. I’m sure Greg is good at talking about stuff like that with his dad.

Shit, if it wasn’t that she’s my sister Dad would probably high-five me until my arm fell off for dating a girl as hot as Emma.

It’s a good distraction tactic. It usually works.

Only this time Dad gets right back on-topic. “I’m just wondering why you’ve been spending so much time with Emma these last few weeks.”

I half shrug. “Yeah, well she’s not home often.”

“That’s never stopped you before. You guys barely talked the last couple of years.” Dad shakes his head. “Outside of meal times me and your mom hardly ever saw you two in the same room.”

“People change, I guess.”

“No doubt about that. Emma certainly has. Right?”

Is he leading me? Does he know? What’s more fake sounding – admitting that she looks different now or acting like I hadn’t noticed? I take a quick sideways glance, trying to read him but all I see is my Dad, with that half smirk of his that I know from family photos. At least he seems to have slipped out of Male Authority Figure mode, though what he’s running now I don’t know.

“I guess.”

I catch myself half smiling – because automatically I’m thinking about my sister’s college transformation from girl next door to goth wild girl and how damn hot she is and…

He catches it, of course, because I’m looking at him not at the road, and he does that drum on the dashboard again and the smirk becomes… smirkier?

“I know what’s going on with you two, ” he says.

I look straight ahead. The world is split in two, straight down the middle of the road. On the left is farmland and open skies. On the right Wilderwood Forest crowds in up to the edge of the asphalt and everything behind it is green and shadows. Conway is just up ahead.

I don’t say anything and neither does he. He just leaves me hanging while the road rolls by under the wheels of the high end interrogation cage I’m strapped into. German engineering, like he said, and everyone knows they have ways of making you talk.

We should be past Conway by now. We should be halfway to the west coast in the time it takes my Dad to speak again.

“If you’re hanging out with your sister it means you also get to hang out with her friends, right?” Dad grins and nudges me. “Her friends are quite something.”

Time starts again. Conway is just up ahead.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror as I return the grin. I look pretty desperate, and my eyes feel like they’re trying to crawl out the sides of my head in an attempt to avoid looking straight at my Dad.

“Okay, Dad, you got me. She has some… (nice?/cute?/sexy?) …cute friends.”

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