Her eyes begged me to touch her. She offered her body for me to claim, and I was so close. So close.
I’ve never had so little control over my sexual impulses.
But that’s all they were—impulses.
What happened last night was different. What I felt was compulsion, obsession, and possession that went far beyond slaking a sexual need.
I couldn’t tell her what I really felt. The words that were screaming in my head were irrational and unfair.
I saved your life, so now your life belongs to me.
Acquiring is what I do. Possessions are easy to understand. Things, people, relationships—either they’re mine or they’re not.
A dangerous thought. Because the things I possess cannot be taken from me. Not without dire consequences.
I need her to wear that ring to remind me that she belongs to another.
A man unworthy of her, for sure, but I have nothing to offer her outside of my protection on this mountain.
The sun is up, and there are no sounds coming from below me in the cabin. I have a good chance of sneaking out and staying gone for as long as possible to avoid having to spend too much time in close quarters with her.
Her presence is electrifying. It pricks at all my nerves, the good and the dangerous. She makes me want to punch things, but she also makes me smile. Even when I want to strangle her, I find myself laughing as I do.
If the sky is clear, I’ll hike out a bit today. And if all goes well, I’ll make immediate plans to get her out of here. With snow on the ground, it’s a risk. But the risk of being stuck in the cabin with her is far worse. I won’t be able to keep my hands off her for much longer.
I slip as quietly as possible out of bed and down the ladder. Refusing to look where she sleeps, I slip on my boots and grab my coat, when I see the flannel I insisted she put on lying on the floor near my chair.
What the fuck?
I pick it up, and nearby lies her ring. I set both items on the table and keep my eyes down as I head to the door, but I’m foolish to think I could walk out without allowing myself one peek at her.
My gaze falls upon her sleeping form, and my body stills.
She’s still topless. The bandages to steady her torso still tossed aside. She’s lying on her good side, her hands tucked under her cheek. Her dark hair lies around her like a halo, and the long expanse of her back is bare to her pants. I imagine what it would feel like to run my lips up her spine, to lick and bite and leave red marks on her skin.
I groan and curse inside my head, scolding my weak control.
Go. Leave! Get out of here before you do something stupid.
I make a move toward the door and then close my eyes. “Don’t do it,” I whisper to myself.
Fuck it.
I whirl back to the table, grab the flannel, and use it to cover her back before I throw myself out the door.
I manage to stay away for most of the day. I hike up to the ridge where I can get a good look at the sky and see if anything ominous is on its way in. I eat wildflowers and Indian cucumber root I find on my path, but in the afternoon, I feel the need to get back for some real sustenance.
The sun is setting, and as I draw closer to the cabin, unease shadows my steps.
She’s going to have a million questions. Is it too much to ask that we just ignore each other for the duration of our confinement?
I’ll tell her the sky looks clear and the wind is low. The snow is beginning to melt but not enough to see the forest floor. I’ll tell her we can make plans to hike out in a couple of days. Maybe that will satisfy her enough to forget everything that happened last night.
I stomp the snow off my boots when I get to the door and take a deep breath before opening it. I focus on removing my coat and boots in order to avoid the area around the woodstove. She hasn’t started peppering me with questions yet, which must mean she’s still pissed about last night.
Figuring I’ll start dinner, I reach for a pot and fill it with water. I’ll have to place it on the stove, so I ready myself for the visual assault of her angry eyes. I turn around and—she’s not there.
I peer behind the woodstove, even climb up to my bed platform, but the cabin’s empty. My stomach sinks.
She’s gone.
She probably went down to the lake. Her jacket is gone, boots too, even the knit cap I let her wear is also gone. I’m sure she—
Something else is missing.
My rifle.
I climb back up to my bed platform and dive for the box of ammo, but it’s nowhere to be found. “Goddammit!”
She left. On her own.
And she has no clue where she is.
Moving as fast as possible, I pack food, water, and a flashlight. I reach for my jacket, and my gaze snags on the table. The flannel is gone.
The ring is not.
The tiny gem glints in the dimming sunlight.
It’s nearly dark, and she’s out there alone.
I swear to God, if I find her alive, I’m going to kill her.
Jordan
The map said west.
I remember. Looking at the map with Lincoln, he pointed the way out of the mountains and said, “we go west.”
Dressing in as many layers as I could, with a thermos of water and a couple of energy bars I found ransacking Grizzly’s bed, I took off on foot, following the setting sun. I also brought his rifle and bullets for a dual purpose—protection and signaling anyone who might be around.
The idea to leave made sense after waking up alone in the cabin and having hours pass that felt like days. In a crazed spiral of feeling rejected, abandoned, and hopeless, I decided I’d rather die out here than be stuck in the cabin for another day.
But as darkness falls and I huddle against the base of a tree, I question whether or not I made the right choice.
The sky is cloudless, and a billion stars appear in the gaps of the tree canopy. The moon is nearly full, bringing some light, but warmth would help me get through what is sure to be a long night. I managed to find some semi-dry pine needles, but all the wood I could find was soaked through.
Without a fire, I settle in for a night alone with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company. I have no map and no way to tell time, so I don’t know how long I’d been hiking or how far. And as the night stretches out before me, I have no sense of how many hours I have to wait until morning.
With the rifle leaning against my strong arm, I pull my jacket hood tighter around my face and nuzzle into its warmth. I used to think the forest would come alive with the noise of nocturnal creatures at night. The truth is everything gets deadly still so that even the tiniest breeze through the pine trees or the flutter of bird wings is magnified and makes me jump. Even though my heart races with nervous adrenaline, my eyelids feel heavy. I close them between bouts of panic at some unseen whisper in the black distance.
I think of a hot shower, my warm bed, and a full meal, and my eyes close as I fall into the comfort of what’s to come.
My body goes weightless. I gasp awake just as my back is pressed roughly against a tree. Grizzly’s face, twisted in fury, is inches from mine, and his fists dig so deeply into the front of my coat that it constricts my lungs. The toes of my boots search for purchase on the ground. I scramble and reach for the rifle, but it’s pointless. He has me pinned.
“Let me go!” I attempt to push at his body, swat his arms, push his torso, but it’s all for nothing. My best efforts are wasted against his size and muscle. “You son of a bitch! I hate you! Why won’t you just let me go—”