“Come on.” Not knowing what’s headed our way, I pick her up and place her on a nearby tree branch that’s only about five feet off the ground. I try to join her but lose my footing, falling to the ground.
“Kane!” she screams.
I’m on my back, surrounded by dead leaves and branches. I hate this fucking team-building shit.
“Oh.” Her voice softens, then she laughs.
I move to get up, but my ankle is screaming in pain. Shit. I’m pretty sure I twisted it on the root of the tree.
The small brown thing emerges from a pile of leaves, only for us to see that it’s a fucking dog. A Yorkie at that. What the fuck is a Yorkie doing in the middle of the woods?
Jana can’t stop laughing as the Yorkie jumps on me, placing two paws on my chest to lick my face. “This is too funny.”
I notice a collar on the dog and reach for it to pick up the dog and place it down beside me. It wags its tail and continues on its way.
“Do you think it’s lost?” Jana asks with concern in her voice.
“Don’t know. We can ask Clark and Corin about it when we get back. I’ve got bad news though.” I cringe.
“What?” She jumps down from the tree. I’m not gonna lie, it’s impressive.
“I think I twisted my ankle when the brown-haired monster was coming for us.”
She bends down and lifts the end of my pant leg. Sure enough, my ankle is already swelling up and it’s black and blue.
“One more and the trophy is ours!” Warner screams from somewhere in the forest, obviously in a better mood than before.
Once they’re out of earshot, Jana looks at me. We’ve already got all our clues, which means we could win this thing. I don’t think any other team would be as competitive as Ford and Warner, so they’re probably our closest competition. The only reason we’re done is because I pushed Jana for purely selfish reasons.
“Can you get up?” Jana asks.
“Maybe, but the finish line is still a long way away.” I pull out the map to show her.
She bites the inside of her lip. It’s not like if she was the one who was hurt; I could throw her on my back.
“I think we’re done, Jana.”
She gives me a scathing look. One I haven’t been on the receiving end of for some time. She searches the area—looking for what, I have no idea.
“Would a walking stick help?” She hands me a long stick that wouldn’t hold the Yorkie’s weight, let alone mine.
“Honestly, it’s fine. Just go ahead and tell them I’m here…”
She’s not paying any attention to me though. It’s like she thinks she’s suddenly some outdoorsy Jedi Master who will be able to form a set of makeshift crutches out of sticks and leaves. It’s oddly appealing watching her though. She runs off into the woods without another word, back the way we came.
I push up on my hands, using a log to sit on and investigate my ankle. I flinch when my hands touch the hot skin. Not a good sign. I move to stand, but it’s too much. “Fucking hell.”
A rattling noise comes from deep within the woods. A couple minutes later, Jana emerges with the rusty wheelbarrow we passed. It’s marked on the map as a way for teams to know they’re on the right path. So much for that.
“I’m not sure—”
“Burrows, you’re getting in. Come on.” She comes to my side and offers me her shoulder.
Her labored breathing makes her chest rise and fall, which gives me an excellent view since she stripped down to her sports bra half an hour ago. I try not to give her all my weight, but it’s impossible.
“There you go.” She leads me to the wheelbarrow, taking my hand and placing it on the tree trunk next to it. “I’m going to bring it to you. Let your butt fall into it.”
She lowers it, and I gently sit.
“Perfect. This is perfect.” She’s so happy. Who am I to burst her bubble and mention that she still has to push me out of the woods? She peers over the handles and looks upside down when I look up at her. “Okay, ready?”
“Yeah.” I can’t help the amusement in my tone because there’s no way she’s ever going to be able to move me, wheelbarrow or not.
“You can doubt all you want, but we’ve gotten this far.”
She pushes and we go nowhere.
“I think I’m too heavy.”
“I work out, you know. I might not look like it, but I do kickboxing and cycling. I have muscles.”
“No one said you didn’t. It’s just that I’m about twice your weight.”
She grunts, pushing the wheelbarrow until she grunts again when we don’t move.
“Let’s just think of something else.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “No. One more time. Once I get it going, it won’t be that hard.”
I use the tree to push off with my arm while she pulls up and pushes on the handlebars, exhaling loudly. We move an inch and I almost topple over, but she steadies me, walking slowly to get used to the weight she’s carrying.
“You did it!” I honestly can’t believe it. I’m impressed.
“Don’t sound so surprised.” She huffs and puffs as we go faster.
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks, I guess.”
She’s probably taking that as an insult, but not a lot of women I know would go to all this effort to win. It’s hot as hell that she took charge of this shitty circumstance.
She’s sweating by the time we see Clark and Corin in the clearing. We hear footsteps behind us, and we both look to find Ford and Warner not far behind.
“Hold on, Kane!”
Jana goes into a full sprint, the wheelbarrow teetering and tottering left to right. I swear my balls tuck themselves up into my body because I just know I’m going to go down hard.
“Shit! No way you’re ahead of us!” Warner shouts, and Jana pushes herself harder.
I forgot about the small hill, and I think Jana did too. We’re moving faster and faster until she loses her grip and I’m tumbling out of the wheelbarrow. I roll a couple of times, careful to keep my foot raised so I don’t injure it further.
“Oh crap! I’m sorry.” Jana looks down at me, then back behind us.
“You’re not there yet!” Ford screams.
Jana grabs my arm and I use my good leg to sort of crab crawl on my back.
“Hurry!” Jana screams.
I move faster, hitting the finish line right before Ford and Warner cross seconds after us.
“She helped him. That’s a disqualification!” Ford points at us.
Jana’s on the ground and my head is on her stomach, both of us struggling for breath.
“Kickboxing was not good preparation for this, just for the record,” she mumbles.
Ford and Warner are still arguing the authenticity of our win with Clark, and he says, “It’s called teamwork, guys. Her teammate was injured, and she was quick on her feet to get the wheelbarrow. Then when that failed, they worked together to reach the finish line.” Clark looks at us. “They’re the winners.”
“Bullshit!” Warner yells.
“Don’t be a sore loser,” I say, sitting up. “But I do need someone to look at my ankle.”