The North Star

by Wendy Cole

  As if sensing my thoughts, Bard shifted closer, crushing me into the mattress with his massive form. It was hard to breathe, but I didn’t complain. He was like a blanket of protection, and despite everything, laying there on that small twin-size mattress, with him too vulnerable to do anything to help me, I felt safe.

  “I love you,” I whispered. I kissed his cheek, ran my fingers up his back, and listened for the crunch of boots below.

  Sleep wouldn’t come. It knew not to. If I allowed myself to drift away, Drake would come. He was too present in my mind for the nightmares not to creep forward, and if I screamed or shouted in my sleep, it could draw him into my reality.

  I stared at Bard’s peaceful face, drank him in like it was the last time I’d be able to, and I knew it could be. It probably was. I wanted to stay there, in that moment. I wanted time to stop and never start again. I could live forever in the circle of his arms, watching him, knowing he wanted me enough to risk his own life to save mine.

  “I love you,” I said again, needing him to know, fearful that he didn’t after everything that’d happened.

  The corner of his mouth tilted, and he snuggled closer. The aggressiveness left him when he slept, and I got to have a glimpse of the Bard that would have been if his father had never made that deal.

  I wanted to fix it. I wanted to absorb all the pain he’d ever experienced and add it to mine. The urge to do so was so strong, it floored me. It had always been about survival. It was number one on the list, me against them. But with Bard, things were different. They were more. He was more.

  I’d never be able to hide this feeling.

  Drake would know. He’d see it.

  He was going to know I loved this man.

  He was going to make sure I knew exactly how he felt about that.

  Bard’s grip tightened again. It seemed even in his sleep, he could read me. Even in his most vulnerable state, he comforted me.

  I took a deep breath and forced myself to push away my morbid thoughts.

  Karma owed me, but she owed him more, and unlike me, Bard was deserving. He was what every man pretended to be, and what women dreamed about. If I had any chance at all, it would be because he deserved to win. He was good. I’d been fighting to survive this evil with a trail of wrong dragging behind me, but Bard didn’t have that.

  He just had me.

  I laid my head against his chest, listened to the steady thud of his heart, and matched my breaths to his. “If you die because of this, I’ll have earned every ounce of shit ever handed to me.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Sleep never came, and as the night drew on, each new sound shattered my nerves a little more than the last. I huddled up against the incapacitated man to my right, my hands shaking. My eyes burned. It was a combination of exhaustion and being left so wide open.

  My thoughts ran wild. I saw the future in that dark, wooden treehouse. I saw every possible and likely thing that would happen if Drake came back and found me with another man, a defenseless man. I was useless against their numbers. I wouldn’t be able to save him. I couldn’t even save myself.

  Owls hooted and leaves rustled every time the wind blew, and even sometimes when it didn’t. Those were the worst, but I couldn’t tell if it was a person or an animal or my imagination playing tricks on me. Something screeched, high pitched and shrill, and I didn’t even want to think about what kind of creature would make a fucking sound like that.

  When the first rays of sunlight drifted through the opening, I immediately shook Bard, more than ready to have someone to distract me from my own warring thoughts.

  He grumbled and pulled me tighter.

  I shook him again and leaned close to his face. “Bard! Wake up!”

  He jerked to attention, grabbed me in a protective hold and searched our surroundings with wide, bloodshot eyes. His hair was a tangled mess around his shoulders and his mouth a straight line. “What happened?” His brow furrowed as he looked at me, around the space, then back again. “How the hell did you get here?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  His gaze dropped to the bed, unfocused in thought. He scratched the back of his neck and looked almost guilty. If we weren’t so close to being captured, it would have been funny.

  “I uh…” He looked at me. “What did I do?” he asked, tone slow and reluctant.

  “You came to the cabin, drunk as shit…”

  “I’m sorry…”

  I threw a hand over his mouth. “They’re here, Bard.”

  His eyes sharpened. “They?”

  I swallowed hard and nodded.

  Before I could blink, he jumped up and scrambled to the doorway. “When?” he asked, words harsh. He scanned the ground below, hyperalert.

  “Last night. You brought us here. They’re out there,” I paused to take a breath, “looking for me.”

  His eyes met mine before he scooted across the floor and jerked the floorboards loose. A hidden cubby. It had to have been what he’d tried to find the night before. He pulled out a large pack complete with a bedroll attached to the top of it. “Where are they now?”

  “How the fuck should I know? They left. They’re out there.” I threw an arm out.

  “How many?” he continued with an edge to his voice.

  “I think six. That’s what it sounded like when Drake was talking last night.”

  Bard’s head whipped over so fast his neck cricked. “Drake’s with them?”

  The murder I’d seen in his eyes the night before returned with a new intensity.

  He’d fight them. He’d go after him. I didn’t want that. I wanted us to run; to get away and find some bridge to hide under. But Bard wouldn’t do that. This was why we were here. We wanted this. He wanted this.

  “Yes.”

  Bard reached back into the hole and pulled out a shotgun then a crossbow. “Do you know how to use either of these?” he asked, all business once again.

  “I can shoot, but I’ve only ever handled a handgun.”

  Bard nodded, his face grim. “I should have worked on this with you.” He pulled out a handgun and handed it to me. “Don’t fire it unless you absolutely have to, and if you do, don’t miss.”

  I tested the weight in my hands, checked the safety, then tucked it into my jeans. “What is it exactly that you have planned?”

  Bard knelt, put his eyes level with mine, and for a brief moment, excitement shadowed the rage within them. “We’re going hunting, Tequila.”

  ***

  Twenty minutes later, I was safely on the ground with a pack on my back, and an extra clip in my pocket.

  Bard immediately set to work. He scanned the area, bent down to touch the dirt, and inspected each of the trees that surrounded us. Then, he stretched out flat onto his stomach and pressed his cheek to the ground.

  “What are you doing?”

  He motioned me over.

  I closed the gap between us then leaned over and tilted my head to match his.

  “You see the leaves?” he asked, his voice low and focused. “This is called side heading. If you lay like this, you can see the leaf depressions. This is one of the ways we’re going to find that motherfucker.” Despite his harsh words, Bard sounded pleased. He hopped to his feet and grabbed his pack from the ground. “C’mon, Tequila. This way.”

  I followed his steps and watched him.

  He continued to scan the ground and the trees. His back was straight, and his strides were sure.

  We travelled like that for an hour before he finally spoke again. “They’ve gone in deep.”

  He picked at a bush and held a hair up between us. How the hell he’d seen it, I had no clue. It was gray, and longish, but also very much singular.

  “I’d bet money they’re lost.” He pointed to the ground. “See all the tracks here? They grouped back together, then broke off the trail into the woods.”

  “Are they close?” I took a step back and looked around. “Shouldn’t we be quieter?”
r />   His gaze softened. He took my hand and squeezed it. “These tracks are fairly old. They should be way ahead of us.” He took a step closer. “Are you hungry?”

  I shook my head. The last thing on my mind was food. My stomach was already full of nerves, and they didn’t seem to agree with me. My gut twisted, and bile rose to my throat. I swallowed hard and grimaced. “Not right now.”

  Bard didn’t push. “Keep moving?”

  I nodded despite the intense urge to beg him to leave with me. It would be so easy to. We could go anywhere; to a million places. We could find an island, settle down, build a house out of palms, and spend our lives eating coconuts.

  Bard studied me. “We have the upper hand, Tequila. We’re hunting them.”

  His eyes dug into me, his voice strong and confident.

  I stared at him. Was it true? Could I really believe it? Right then, it felt more like I was trying to find my death.

  Bard didn’t seem the least bit concerned. He took a step forward and palmed my cheek. “Look at me.”

  I did.

  “You’re safe.” He kissed the top of my head.

  I heaved a sigh. Safe. I wouldn’t be safe until Drake was dead and buried.

  Bard pulled me into his side and held me there as he pushed through the trees. “I can track them. They won’t know how. They’ll walk in circles and leave us breadcrumbs, then when we find them, we can sit real pretty in whatever fucking tree we want and pick them off one by one.”

  He spoke the words so softly and so slowly. He kept a casual pace and idly checked the trees by touching the limbs. He reached down and scooped up a snapped twig then grinned at me. “They’re making it easy, Jessie.”

  He winked.

  He really was a wild man. He just seemed so…in his element. It did help. It gave me hope. Perhaps there was a chance; a future without our blood soaking it.

  He belonged here. Bard was the king of this place. Natural. As much a part of it as any of the wildlife.

  “Sasquatch,” I whispered to myself.

  Bard’s head whipped to me. “Not you, too.”

  I clamped my mouth shut, not even realizing I’d spoken the word out loud.

  He eyed me for a minute then continued forward with a huff. “You’re not allowed to talk to Scarlet anymore.”

  For the first time since Drake had arrived, a smile twisted my mouth. “Are you mad?”

  He cast me a look over his shoulder with one eyebrow lifted. His lip twitched. “No. You’re pretty enough. I’ll let it slide.”

  My smile widened. “Scarlet is pretty, too.”

  He snorted. “Yeah. Pretty fucking annoying.”

  I forced a serious expression to my face. “She’s my friend.” When he looked back, I had to purse my mouth to hide the smile that wanted to return. It was nice. For a fleeting moment, things almost felt normal. It helped ease the tension Drake had brought with him. I had another minute. I had this moment and maybe the next. This was a memory, and when Bard had that playful edge to him, it was always a nice one.

  “Fine.” He turned back forward, ducked beneath a branch, then froze.

  He held a hand up and tilted his head.

  I cramped my mouth shut and clutched at my chest. My heart thundered so hard it hurt, and it echoed far too loud inside my ears.

  He stood motionless for another moment. He then turned with momentum, closed the gap between us, and jerked me into a crouch behind the nearest tree. He lifted his brows and pressed a finger to his lips.

  I leaned into him. His arm circled around me and positioned my body between him and the tree. His gaze was glued on the path we’d been on, and I locked mine in the same direction.

  I expected Drake or one of his men. I’d thought for sure we’d run into them. I was so focused on the threat of him, I hadn’t even considered any other.

  I’d been wrong.

  Something rustled in the distance, then the snapping of limbs and crunch of leaves echoed out from the opposite side of the trail. Something big was heading our way. A massive bush shook violently, and something grunted, a deep, harsh sound.

  I stiffened.

  A patch of brown fur, then more, then more, then even more still. It was a bear―a fucking gigantic bear. It hobbled onto the trail and sniffed the air. It huffed each breath, its jaw hanging down to reveal a set of teeth I had no interest in seeing.

  Bard held a hand up, motioned for me to stay put then stood.

  My eyes widened. I shook my head and clung to him like a cat in a tree, one that was probably running from a fucking bear.

  The bear sniffed again and lumbered forward as if it sensed us there.

  I panicked. We needed to leave! Bard knelt and put his eyes level with mine, his expression hard and scolding. He placed a finger to his lips once again then broke away and left me there.

  I threw a hand over my mouth to stop myself from calling out to him.

  He headed straight towards it, his steps slow, each placement of his foot a well-thought-out decision.

  When the bear caught sight of him, it startled and raised onto two legs. It made it bigger―at least ten feet tall―and even more threatening than before. It roared, jaws flapping, spittle flying. It was deep and loud and directed at the much smaller bearded man before him.

  Bard held his arms up above his head and roared back in a deep, sharp base.

  He was fucking insane.

  My head lightened and the world tilted. White drifted into the corners of my vision. Holy shit, I was going to fucking faint. I blinked hard and took deep breaths to fight it. I needed to stay alert. I needed to help him. I grabbed the gun out of my jeans and aimed with shaking hands.

  Bard roared again, and rushed forward in quick, short steps.

  The bear jolted and fell back in a mass of fur, and claws, and teeth. It hobbled back onto four legs and growled at him.

  Bard rushed it again. “Fuck off!”

  The bear jumped backwards.

  I stared. No fucking way.

  It turned away as if deciding Bard wasn’t worth the trouble and hobbled off into the trees.

  I gaped after it, then over to Bard. He scared away a fucking bear.

  Bard just scared away a fucking bear.

  He turned and walked back to me, seeming as if what he’d just done was the most normal thing in the world.

  I watched him approach.

  Bard just scared away a fucking bear.

  “You alright?”

  “Am I alright?” The words came out choked. I stared at him. He could have died. That bear could have ripped him to pieces, and I wouldn’t have been able to do a thing to stop it. I eyed the gun in my hand. It would have been a bee sting to something that size. My jaw clenched as I shoved it back into my jeans.

  “Tequila.” Bard reached a hand down to me.

  I slapped it away and jumped to my feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I shoved his chest.

  Bard staggered back a step. “What? I scared it away.”

  “You could have been killed! We should have just snuck away!” I shoved him again. “What in the world would possess you to be so fucking reckless!”

  “Hey,” he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into his chest, “I knew what I was doing.” He held me close even as I fought to get away.

  I continued to beat at him, but my punches barely did anything with him pinning my arms so securely.

  “You could have died!” My voice broke.

  Bard’s hold tightened. “I’m sorry. It was too close. You can’t run from them. They can move forty miles an hour.”

  I gripped him then, like he would suddenly disappear if I didn’t hold him tight enough.

  “I had it under control.” He rested his chin on the top of my head and heaved a sigh.

  I pulled away, and this time he let me. “Don’t do that again.”

  His lip twitched. “Yes, ma’am.” He looked away, up to the darkening clouds above our head. “It’s going to storm. We sho
uld head for shelter.”

  “What shelter?”

  Bard’s gaze wandered. He looked at the trees, the trail, then pointed behind me. “That way.”

  I lifted an eyebrow but didn’t question him. It was opposite the direction the bear went in, and that was good enough for me.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  Bard led us deeper and deeper into the woods, and with each step, the trees seemed to multiply. The foliage in some spots was almost too dense to get through, and the further we traveled to the center, the darker it became. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the trees or the storm clouds quickly closing in on us. Either way, it wasn’t helping to build my confidence. It was bad enough to walk around knowing Drake could pop up at any moment, let alone having to do so in the dark.

  Bard pushed forward quicker than usual, and I struggled to keep up with his pace. Most of the tree limbs that smacked into me seemed to favor my face. Bard, however, got none of it. He maneuvered himself like a jungle cat over logs, under limbs, and around holes, all without a moment’s pause. To him, the acres upon acres of forestry was all just a big backyard.

  I’d reached the point of cursing when a slight break in the trees loomed into view. I rushed towards it, more than ready to be out of the hell they called nature. When Bard had brought me there before, it hadn’t been anything like this. This was suffocating. This was claustrophobic. A girl had her limits.

  Bard roughly grabbed my arm and jerked me to a halt.

  I flinched. “What is it?” I fought for calm and scanned the area.

  Bard pointed down, and that’s when I saw it. A wire. It was barely noticeable. It ran across the space in front of us, and I followed it to find its end attached to a metal box. “What is that?”

  “It’s a trip wire.” Bard walked over and lifted the lid off the top of it. He motioned me over, then waited until I could see inside. “This is a twelve-gauge shotgun shell. If someone trips that wire, it will go off.” He put it back together and met my gaze. “Nobody can sneak up on us.”