Feral

by Teagan Kade

  The more our pace quickens, the angrier the sounds become from our furry forest friend. By the time we’ve accelerated to an awkward jog, it’s obvious our buddy isn’t leaving us alone. I grip the branch in my hands as adrenaline floods my veins.

  I glance back in time to see his grand entrance. A large grunt sounds as it lumbers forward, emerging from the brush where we just climbed up to the trail. It’s a beautiful creature, with a thick black coat that almost glistens in the dappled light, but it’s standing oddly, nursing one of its paws and giving it an awkward, unbalanced gait. It’s injured, which might explain the aggression, but it also means its less predictable.

  “Run!” I shout to Ava.

  The bear isn’t more than fifty yards away and he can cover that ground in the blink of an eye. Running is never advisable with an animal like this. It just triggers their natural predatory instinct to chase, but I’m not going to let it get to her.

  I turn around, squaring off with the bear and raising my hands into the air, waving them slowly as a threat and backing away slowly. Normally, this would be enough to throw off a black bear.

  A rock hits near the bear’s feet and he stoops to smell it, a great warm rush of air huffing against the damp earth. I glance over my shoulder. Ava is only a few feet behind me.

  Damn it!

  Of all the times for her to have a fucking brave streak.

  I put one arm out and back up, pushing her with me.

  “No sudden movements,” I caution her.

  The mud sloshes under our feet as the bear watches us warily.

  And then it all happens in a heartbeat.

  The bear goes up on its back paws and growls loudly. Landing back on its good front paw with a thud and flattening its ears to its head, it charges forward.

  I know bears.

  This is no bluff charge.

  I try to push Ava further behind me, but the trail has narrowed, and the wet ground is unstable, giving way beneath our feet and sending us tumbling down a short ravine, crashing into a handful of saplings and ferns. I taste blood and when I open my eyes, a few spots cloud my vision. I look up and the bear is hovering above us on the trail, testing the ground, then growling and tensing, looking like it’s about to jump down and land right on top of us.

  This is it.

  Ava’s hand finds mine and I give it a squeeze.

  Pop! Pop!

  The sound of shots fired crackles through the air and startles the bear, who disappears, making a strange moaning sound as it races off.

  My heart is beating through my chest. I let my head fall back on the ferns that cushioned our fall as I suck in air, my body shivering from the adrenaline rush.

  “That you, Dean?” I hear a voice call.

  “In the flesh… thankfully,” I call back.

  “And Ava!” she calls out beside me.

  “You hurt?”

  “Sprained ankle, maybe a concussion or two between us,” I answer, feeling the gash on my forehead.

  “Alright, you two stay put. Don’t try to climb up this mud. I’m going to call for back-up. We’ll get you out of here quick,” Jasper shouts back.

  I hear the chatter of his radio sounding.

  Ava sniffles beside me. Her arms wrap around my shoulders. Warm, wet tears hit my shoulder as I turn to face her.

  “We’re alive, baby, don’t cry,” I whisper.

  “I know,” she says and doesn’t bother to finish before she’s kissing me. Or maybe I kissed her. It’s all a jumble now. It’s probably our last kiss anyhow. I’d rather savor the moment than focus on the details.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AVA

  The machine overhead clangs and hums as the radiology tech scans my leg. My ankle’s been prodded and wrapped, unwrapped and prodded some more by every person who comes through. Now they’re doing an X-ray. The first one wasn’t so bad, but they keep wanting to move my ankle for ‘stress X-rays,’ which is basically medical terminology for ‘medieval torture.’

  I should be grateful, I know, but I just want some damned ibuprofen and apparently the whole hospital has to look me over first. Maybe I’m irritable because I haven’t seen Dean since the ambulance pulled into the ER bay and they whisked me off one direction and him another.

  They wheel me back into my exam room. It’s a tiny space and I’m pretty sure the woman in the room next to me is puking out her intestines.

  “Is she okay?” I whisper to my nurse.

  He rolls his eyes before smiling conspiratorially. “Let’s just say magic mushrooms aren’t always so magical…”

  Yikes.

  “Okay, Ava, I’ve just looked over your X-ray. You’ve got a second-degree sprain.” The red-haired doctor who prodded my ankle earlier is back.

  “So nothing’s broken? That’s good, right?” I say, relieved I won’t need to wear a cast or have any bones reset.

  “Well, good is subjective, I suppose. You’ve almost fully torn both your medial and anterior talofibular ligaments. Those won’t heal overnight. It’ll probably take a few months to get back to baseline. Have you used crutches before?”

  I answer ‘no,’ but she’s not really listening, too busy typing something into the wall-mounted flat screen.

  “You’ll be free to go once your discharge is processed. In the meantime, sit tight,” she says, coming over and glancing at my ankle again.

  “Something wrong?” I ask, confused.

  “No, you’re just lucky. Your friend did a good job wrapping the ankle so well. If the ligaments heal incorrectly, it will limit your range of motion or cause joint instability. The joint is swollen, of course, but it should heal fully.”

  And with that, she’s gone. I collapse back against the pillows. The room is cold and empty and the blankets on the beds are paper thin, but it beats a freezing cave. Then again, that cave did get pretty hot at one point…

  “Ahem, knock knock.” My whole body seems to react to Dean’s voice.

  I sit up instantly. “Are you okay?” I ask, looking him over.

  He touches one hand to the bandage at his temple. “I’ve had much worse. How about you?”

  I explain to him what the doctor told me. He leans against the wall despite the chair beside my bed. The distance feels unnatural after everything we’ve just been through. I don’t like it.

  “Hey, so…” I clear my throat, looking for the right words. “A lot happened out there. I know we both said things… but it all kind of feels unimportant right now.”

  Dean’s eyes are on my face, but I can’t read them. His body inches closer to the bed, so minimal I’m not sure if he even realizes it.

  “Whatever happened between us, all I know and I all care about is that we’re here now. If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be alive.”

  “Ava!” The shout comes from the hallway. Deric’s voice is so loud several nurses shush him from the nursing station in the middle of the room.

  He comes jogging in, looking ragged with a five o’clock shadow and crazy hair. As his big form moves from the doorway, I see Mom chasing in after, looking only slightly less put-together. My heart squeezes thinking about how worried they must have been.

  “Oh, honey!” she squeals, and I’m momentarily robbed of breath as they crowd me, smothering me in hugs and attention.

  Mom grabs my hand asking question on top of question, leaving me zero room to answer.

  I smile and put a hand to her forearm to reassure her. “I’m okay, Mom. I’ll tell you about everything later. All you need to know right now is that Dean and I got back in one piece.”

  Deric goes over and claps Dean on the back. “I don’t know what to say, man. You’ve rescued my sister twice now.”

  “I wouldn’t say…”

  “Oh, don’t argue, young man!” says Mom. “Jasper told us how he found you and I’m sure Ava wouldn’t have made it so far with this godawful ankle on her own. Thank heavens you were there. I don’t even want to think about what might have…”
She starts to tear up and raises her handkerchief, cutting off her sniffles. “Nevermind, that. We’re just so glad you were with her.”

  “Me too,” I say quietly, no one but Dean seeming to notice.

  “One thing is for certain,” Mom adds. “There isn’t going to be a third such situation. Your brother is firing you, young lady, effective immediately.”

  From the look on Deric’s face, it’s the first he’s heard. “Oh, yeah… definitely.”

  “I spoke to Cathy, who heard from Lindsey again. I didn’t even know you were going to interview with them, and Mr. Montgomery was very disappointed you never showed up. But then he heard you were stranded on the mountain and the director is willing to reschedule the interview. Cathy said, off the record, you’re the only decent candidate they have lined up, so there’s no need to worry about going back out in the woods again. Sherman is a bigger town too, so more opportunities for you.”

  “Oh,” I start to say, but Dean’s eyes look intense. Something in his posture I can’t quite pinpoint has changed.

  “Yeah, and Dex will be back in a day or two. Knowing you, I’m sure you want nothing to do with the business after this, so it all works out,” Deric puts in.

  “Well, I don’t know…”

  “Ms. Halbbitter, do you have someone who’ll be taking you home?” a pretty brunette nurse asks, popping her head in.

  “Yes, I’m her mother. What’s going on?” Mom says, standing up.

  “Hello, ma’am, we need to go over a few instructions with you and get your signature on discharge because we’re issuing the pain meds.”

  Mom has a job. That’s all she needs to hear to bustle forward, happy to make herself useful.

  “If you’re okay, sis, I’m going to listen too, in case mom forgets anything,” Deric says, stepping out and to the nurse’s station.

  Surrounded by a number of attractive nurses and doctors, he’s like a kid in a candy shop.

  “If you’re going to be a creep, get me a coffee while you’re at it,” I call after him.

  “Well, looks like your plans have all come together nicely. Comfortable job all lined up… probably a good thing. Won’t have to get your hands dirty or deal with any uncomfortable workplace messes,” Dean says darkly.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “Let’s not play that game. You were looking to get a job in another town. I get it, message received.”

  My throat burns with frustration. “What? Is this your way of breaking up with me? Pin the motive on me so it’s a clean break?”

  “Were we ever really together?” he answers. His words are calm, and it hurts worse than my ankle. “Let’s just call this what it was: a fun distraction. But it’s run its course. You don’t belong in my world and I don’t belong in yours.”

  I’m fighting tears, keeping my words as calm as possible and hoping not to draw Mom’s attention. “Say whatever you want to justify it, but you’re just finding excuses to push me away. You’re too damned afraid to take a chance at something real.”

  The deep, velvety sound of his chuckle is cold and spiteful. “That’s rich, coming from you. Tell me, Ava, why aren’t you doing something with your music? Why are you pretending to be satisfied with some desk-jockey job? Oh, that’s right. You’re too scared to be happy.”

  “One large latte drenched in all the syrup the coffee cart has to offer,” Deric says, popping back in, a steaming cup in his hand.

  I sniffle, sucking in a steadying breath. Deric’s gaze is quick and flashes between Dean and me. “Something wrong? What’d I miss?”

  “Nothing. I bumped my ankle and they haven’t given me my pain meds yet,” I lie smoothly, giving him a weak smile.

  “Oh, I’ll go bug the nurse, see if they can speed things along. I’m sure Mom is talking her ear off,” Deric says, making to go.

  “Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll go mention it. I need to get going anyway, promised Jasper I’d meet up with him once I was checked out, so we could discuss the bear nuisance,” Dean says.

  “So, you’re… done here then?” I ask cryptically since my brother is listening.

  “Yep. All done. There’s no room for me here.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  DEAN

  “Hey, man, check the schedule next time you book me for a tour,” Dex’s voice comes from behind me. I’m installing a rack for our inventory of bikes. Keeping myself busy has become a sort of compulsion lately.

  I turn to face him. In his unkempt state, he’s the picture of lumber-sexual. His blond hair has grown out of its style and he’s got the start of a butterscotch-colored beard forming along his jaw. His forearms, thick from years of kayaking, are crossed in front of him, ready for an argument.

  I turn back to my work, bolting the rack to the wall. “I’m not your fucking babysitter, man. The phone rings, I answer it, take down information for you… You do whatever you need to do with that.”

  “You triple-booked me, asshole! Do you know how unprofessional that looks for me to have to call clients back and say, ‘Sorry, my partner is a dumbfuck who doesn’t know how to read a calendar’?”

  “Fuck off,” I bite back.

  “No, you fuck off. You walk around here with this shitty attitude, like it doesn’t matter if you fuck this up for everyone else. I don’t know what exactly went down while I was gone, and I don’t want to know. I just want you to get your shit together.”

  “My shit is together! You are the one who said cut it off with Ava, and I did, so back. The. Fuck. Off!” I all but roar.

  “So, that’s what this is? You’re bent out of shape over some pussy? She must have some kind of unicorn pussy to have you this worked up over it,” he shakes his head.

  “Shut up, you son of a bitch,” I snarl.

  My words carried a weight I didn’t mean, and I can see the impact of them in Dex’s eyes. “Cheap shot, fucker. Do us all a favor and stop acting like a fucking goon.”

  He walks out, and I spend the rest of the afternoon chewing on my anger. It doesn’t help that Deric keeps bringing Ava up.

  “Drove Ava to physical therapy today. Hell, man, how have I gone my whole life without realizing how fucking hot physical therapists are?”

  Dex looks skeptical. “I think you’re confusing physical therapists with nurses.”

  “No way, seriously. Let’s just say they know all kinds of freaky positions and… All those hours pumping people full of encouragement? With the right kind of spice, it makes for some kinky ass dirty talk. I’ve got the perfect in too. Ava’s got PT once a week for the next month or two and taking care of my little sis is totally scoring me some ass.”

  “How’s she doing?” Dex asks, and I could deck him for bringing her up any further, especially when he knows our history.

  It’s been two weeks since I walked out of her ER exam room and I haven’t seen or spoken to her since. Which is just fine. I don’t need her around making me hate myself for it any more than I already do. It doesn’t seem to matter she’s not here physically, though, when I have her brother here to keep the memory fresh in my mind.

  “Hey, quit shooting the shit. I’m sure we’ve all got enough work to do to keep us busy for the next three years,” I growl at them.

  It’s true. The Tamanass Argus picked up the story of Ava and I being stranded, and Deric made sure to give some good pullquotes about how I led the mother bear off away from the group then faced down a cougar and so on. As if this was some rare occurrence, a media outlet and its affiliates in Portland and Seattle ran the story too. All the press has led to a boom in tour bookings.

  I won’t complain about being successful. I just wish the work was enough to distract me from the fact that, once again, I’m alone. For a fleeting moment there, I wasn’t. Unlike the crash that brought my pro days and things with Stacie to an end, I was expecting this, so the fact it hurts is all the more confusing. Whatever the reason, it’s a raw and open wound that only seems to ache the more I p
robe it.

  *

  “What’ll it be, Dean?” Geena asks from behind the bar.

  I can’t seem to focus enough to give her an answer. I came here to clear my head, to purge all this shit with Ava from my system and bury it down with a stiff drink, but I’m at the bar and as I’m about to order I hear her laugh.

  She’s across the room in a booth, tucked away in the warm shadows. It’s exactly the kind of place I’d want to be with her. In the low light I can see the faint golden flash of her hair as she talks, her head bobbing with enthusiasm, but everything else is obscured.

  “Hey, babe, piss or get off the pot,” Geena snaps her fingers impatiently.

  “Smokey Owl,” I grumble and move down the bar, angling to see if I can catch a glimpse of who she’s here with.

  “Now there’s a drink tells me you got a story to go with it,” she says, giving me a hot look before bouncing off to mix it.

  It’s not particularly busy for a Wednesday night, and they’re the only occupied booth, so the voices aren’t difficult to catch. I can’t make out what they’re saying exactly, but it’s enough to tell she’s here with a man. From the sounds of it, they’re getting along a lot better than I’d like. My fists are clenched balls on the bar as her throaty, musical laugh slides over me.

  Fuck this.

  I’m not going to sit here and listen to some guy get her hot and wet for him.

  I push off from the bar and make for the door.

  “Dean, your drink!” Geena calls loudly.

  My head snaps to the booth and I’m close enough now I can see Ava looking back at me.

  Shit. She knows I’m here. She doesn’t need to think she’s chasing me off, though.

  I hop back on the barstool and feel her gaze at my back, so I start flirting with Geena. It doesn’t take much to encourage her to exuberantly display her interest.

  “Poor baby, heardyou cut up your face good… and it’s such a handsome face. I sure hope you weren’t damaged anywhere else,” she croons.