by Vivien Vale
The way she’s yelling has my blood run cold. It’s as if there’s an ice infusion through my veins.
Unfamiliar noises and strange tingling assault my senses. Fucking alarm bells are going off inside my bed, and I bolt upright in bed.
Fuck.
I’m breathing heavily, and it takes me a few seconds to get my bearings. I had been dreaming. I blink rapidly to dispel the images of my fucking nightmare.
Everything’s all right. Emma was safe, nothing to worry about.
Emma. She’s here with me in the cabin. The bad guys can’t touch her. I hope I didn’t wake her with all the wrestling.
Slowly, relief washes over me. I glance beside me and suck in my breath.
Fuck. Emma is not beside me.
Emma.
What the fuck happened to Emma? Did I just sleep through a kidnapping? I doubt it, unless I’d been drugged.
Instinctively, my right hand touches my head. No obvious injury, no blood, no blunt instrument used to knock me out.
So what was going on? Why wasn’t Emma in bed with me? And what were those sounds I could hear from a long way off?
Maybe everything was not all right.
With lightning speed, I jump out of bed and grab some clothes. I put them on as I run downstairs. Just as my foot takes the last step, I can hear her scream my name.
The pitch of her voice tells me something’s wrong. Something’s fucking wrong.
Something else tells me things are not as they seem. Boss is standing in front of the door growling. It’s a deep ferocious growl, the kind that says Don’t enter my fucking territory.
“Dylan!” Emma screams, sounding almost hysterical, and I grab onto her as she stumbles out from my surveillance room.
“They’re coming…four of them…and they’ve got guns…”
It takes me no time at all to put two and two together. From the garbled hysteria, I gather that those bad dudes have found Emma, found us.
Judging by baby bear’s reaction, they must be getting close.
Too fucking close for comfort.
“Boss,” I call the bear and grab Emma. “Down the stairs. Quick.” I command, but she’s not moving.
“Boss,” she calls, and her voice quivers.
We’re fucking wasting valuable time here. Without another word, I run to grab Boss. He’s still growling, and I think I can hear voices.
I practically push Emma down the stairs and pull the latch shut after us. Then I unhook a special thick metal plate door and pull it all the way over before attaching a lock to it.
“That should keep them out,” I observe and scramble down the stairs. The bear is reluctant and hovers at the top.
“Come on, buddy,” I coax him. “Nothing you can do. We’re safe here.”
One look at the monitors confirms the worst of my fears. We’ve been fucking found. If Emma has been trying to tell me there were four guys, she’s right.
Outside the door of my cabin are four men dressed in dark clothes wearing face masks. They’re all armed with at least one gun each.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How had this happened? How the fuck had they traced Emma here? Or had they traced me? I run a million possibilities through my head.
I turn to Emma. She’s white as a ghost, and her eyes are filled with fear.
“Are they…” She doesn’t finish the sentence.
She doesn’t need to. I know what she’s trying to ask.
“That’s them all right. I’ve got no fucking idea how they found you or us.”
I notice she’s shaking. I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her.
“It’ll be all right,” I murmur and hold her while my eyes are glued to the monitor.
“But…how…what…they’ll kill us…” Emma stutters, and I just keep stroking her back.
She’s right, of course. Those fucking dudes mean business. From what I can tell, they’ve not come to have a cup of tea with us.
I furrow my brow.
“What’re we going to do?” Emma’s sounding frantic. I can feel her heart pounding against her chest.
“We’re going to get out of here alive,” I reply and keep watching what the men are doing.
As far as they’re concerned, we’re fucking asleep in the house. They’re not going to ring the doorbell and get us up. From their movements, I don’t think they’re going to break in either. What’s more, it’s not fucking easy to break in.
But what are they going to do then?
I thank our lucky stars we have no lights on, aiding these guys into thinking we’re easy prey.
Prey. We’re not prey—we’re the predators. We’ve got the upper fucking hand, because we’re aware of what the fuck they’re up to.
“Should we get out? Should we talk to them?” Emma’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“I don’t think these guys believe in talking.” I point to the screen.
Emma nods. “But how will we get out?”
I pace the length of the little room.
“We can’t just wait in here for them to come and shoot us?” Emma’s nearly sobbing.
“Don’t worry—” I start, but she cuts me off.
“Don’t worry? You’re telling me not to worry? Did you see those fucking big guns they’ve got? They burned my apartment down, remember?”
Bingo. Of course. They don’t need to fucking shoot us, because they’ve got another method to get rid of us.
How convenient. They’re only fucking armed in case they run into trouble.
“Dylan, look,” shrieks Emma, pointing to the screen.
One of the men is pouring petrol at the front door. The others have scattered, but I bet I know exactly what they fuck they’re doing.
“Oh, Dylan, we’re going to die. I’m too young to die,” wails Emma, and I grab her by the shoulders.
“Emma, listen to me. You’re not going to die. At least, not today or while you’re with me. Maybe one day of old age, but not right now.”
My words don’t hit their mark. “I’m going to be burnt alive. I don’t want to die. What about poor Boss?” She’s sobbing, and I can feel her body going limp.
Tempted as I am to slap her in the face so she gets a grip, I don’t. Instead I shake her a little.
“Listen to me, Emma,” I try and make eye contact with her. “You’re not going to die.”
Above us, the flames are crackling. Obviously, the fire has well and truly taken a hold.
Briefly, I lament all the things I’m going to lose. Sure, I’m not terribly materialistic, but there are some thing I’ve grown attached to.
A summer ago, I traded a bearskin for a first-class hunting knife. It was one of those short blade ones. It would be burnt to a crisp, as would my bear coat, and some of my other clothing.
Fucking bastards.
Anger now wells up in me. I want to fucking punch someone.
They’re destroying my house, my four walls built with love and sweat and tears.
“Emma, listen to me.” I put my hand under her chin and lift her face until I see her make eye contact. All life’s gone out of her eyes.
“This room is a safe spot. It’s fire-proof. The house can burn, and we will be safe in here. We won’t feel anything.”
At first, I’m not sure she’s heard what I say. Her eyes stay listless and dull.
After what seems like an eternity, but is probably only a matter of minutes, she asks. “What do you mean? How can we be safe?”
I push her loose strands of her hair out of her face and tuck them behind her ear.
“I mean, this room is built to withstand heat of up to several hundred degrees. It’s also explosion-proof and storm-proof. Nothing can touch us down here.”
She looks around, still looking frightened, her eyes wide like a deer’s.
“I…I don’t understand.” She sighs. “We can’t stay here forever. Food, water…”
I nod. “Of course we’re not going to stay here forever. We’
re going to have our own exit strategy and beat these fuckers at their own game.”
She doesn’t believe me. I can tell. She thinks I’m lulling her into a false sense of security to make the time we’ve got left easier.
I sigh and lean forward to kiss her.
For a moment, there’s only us, the kiss, and the knowledge that whatever we’re facing, we’re facing it together.
Chapter 32
Emma
When he stops kissing me, I feel as if the oxygen is being sucked out of me.
Panic grips me tightly. How long could we survive down here? Not long I assume. With the fire raging above us, it’ll only be a matter of time before the ceiling will cave in or we run out of air.
Either death sounds slow and painful to me.
I can’t understand why Dylan is so obsessed with the monitors. What the fuck does any of it matter anymore? I mean, if we’ve got minutes left, we should make the most of it.
Then again, I remember the anger I had felt when I saw he’d been spying on me. I can’t die without at least raising the matter with him.
“You spied on me, Dylan,” I start and wish I could lace my voice with more anger. When I first discovered what he’d been up to, I was fucking furious.
Dylan is either ignoring me or he hasn’t heard me.
I take a step toward him.
“Did you hear me? I can’t believe you spied on me and didn’t tell me.”
Okay, so now I’ve got his attention. He’s turned around. There’s no remorse in his eyes.
“So?”
His attention returns to the monitors. One in particular seems to have grabbed his interest.
Now I’m getting a little angry. I don’t like being dismissed this way.
Fuck him.
“You spied on me from all the way up here and all you can say is so? It’s creepy, and it’s wrong. I don’t understand it. I just…” I trail off.
Was there any use in this?
“Look, babe.” He barely looks at me as he’s speaking. “I needed to keep an eye on you, make sure you’re safe. How else was I going to do that other than to install cameras at your place and watch you?”
The way he puts it, it sounds perfectly reasonable. Still, I feel a little shiver run down my back at the thought of him watching me. And if he was watching me, how do I know the others—the bad dudes—haven’t been watching too?
I try and push those unsettling thoughts out of my mind. With death imminent, it fucking doesn’t matter anymore, does it?
“Look, babe.”
Dylan must have taken my silence as withdrawal and a build up of anger because he’s standing next to me and has put his arm around me.
“I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I had to leave. But I also had to keep you safe. The last thing I wanted was for harm to come to you. I had no other motivation for installing the camera in your house. I swear.”
He kisses me on the top of my head and turns to go back to those blasted screens. I hold onto him. I don’t want to let him go.
I can’t believe I’m going to fucking die down here, and it has all been a waste. Couldn’t we have done something to make sure the bad guys don’t win?
And how the fuck does this work anyway? Aren’t the good guys the ones who come out the winners? In our case, why are the bad guys going to get away with it? Not only are they getting away with fucking unlawful logging practices, they are also getting away with fucking murder.
I mean if they kill us, no one will ever know it was murder.
No one will probably even investigate the deaths. As far as I’m aware, not one single soul knows Dylan is up here, except for the dudes who want me and him dead, and they’re not going to tell any one, are they?
Bleakness settles over me. My fingers are digging into his arm.
“Babe,” his eyes find mine.
Weakly, I smile.
“I guess it makes sense.” I take a deep breath in. “But it was all for nothing, wasn’t it? I mean here they are, they’ve found us, and now it’s all over. What’s that saying—you can run but you can’t hide?”
Dylan lifts his great big powerful hand and strokes my cheek. I nuzzle into his fingers. All that power useless against the evil forces out there right now. Not even my strong bear man can defeat these dudes.
A tear rolls down my cheek, and his thumb wipes it away.
“Don’t cry, Emma,” his voice is soft and caresses me all over. My insides melt, and I throw my arms around him.
He returns the embrace.
“You know,” I whisper into his ear and let my hand travel down his back toward his ass. “We should make the most of these last few minutes we’ve got together. We don’t want to go wasting our time with anything useless.”
His lips caress my neck and his mouth finds my ear lobe. I can feel him suck on it. Tiny electric shock waves pulse through me. My hands are now on his front and I can feel his massive bulge. If this is to be the last few minutes of life, I know what I want to be doing.
Dylan’s lips move away from my neck and find my mouth again. We melt into one another.
“I’m pleased you rescued me,” I whisper when he pulls away. His hands are under my shirt and have found my tits.
I arch my back and push my hips and tits toward him. He responds. There’s a hint of a smile around his lips. Cool air assaults my skin when his hand exposes my upper body.
His lips move toward my tits and nipples.
Pinhead size goosebumps run across my flesh as I feel his warm breath on me. I want him to take me now, hard, and fast. We don’t have much time.
I want to make the fucking most of it.
Of course, I’ve got lots of regrets. But I know one thing for sure: I don’t want to fucking die and regret not fucking Dylan one last time.
His hands are running along my back, and I’m desperately trying to free his fucking cock. I want to wrap my fingers around it and if there’s time, I want to put him in my mouth.
Before I get the chance Boss jumps up on my legs and distracts me. Of course, the baby bear. How could I forget my precious little baby?
I bend down to reassure and pat the furry creature.
“I’m sorry we’re going to let you and your poor mum down,” I nuzzle my face into his fur.
For a few minutes, I stay close to the bear. Now, I’m torn between giving comfort to Boss and wanting to fuck Dylan.
Choices.
Life was fucking like that, wasn’t it? Full of choices? Choices are highly overrated as far as I’m concerned, and we spent too much time working out what to choose, and in the end, we may not even choose wisely.
Briefly, I think back to my days in the city when I’d spend hours deciding what to have for lunch at the same takeaway cafe I went to every single day. There were so many choices. And when I finally made my decision, I still wasn’t finished choosing.
The little Asian woman would then want to know if I wanted white, grain, or wholemeal or gluten free bread, butter or no butter, salt or pepper, and last but not least, in a bag or with a serviette.
I sigh and pick Boss up to go back to kissing Dylan.
“Emma,” Dylan’s voice snaps me out of my navel-gazing.
With the bear in my arms. I give him my full attention. So okay, we won’t be able to have a farewell fuck, but I can’t abandon the little fellow in these last few minutes of life.
“It’s okay,” murmurs Dylan and strokes my face.
Now tears gush down my cheeks.
“I—” The words won’t come out. Actually, I don’t really know what I should say to him.
“There’s no need to worry,” Dylan says and leans forward to give me another kiss.
When he draws back and turns his attention back to the monitors, I try and make sense of his words.
“What…okay…”
I can’t understand why he’s so calm.
“Here,” he points to one of the monitors. “Here’s our escape route. I
’ve got a plan. We’re not going to die. Like I said before, at least not today.”
I hear the words, but they’re not sinking in.
Plan. Escape. Not die today.
Escape route, what did he mean by escape route? It takes my brain ages to unscramble the message in the words.
My eyes zero in on what he’s pointing to. There’s a maze of underground tunnels.
“I just need to make sure we come out where we can get out. With this fucking amount of snow around, some of the exits get covered up. But I’m pretty sure this one,” he points to one of the end points of a tunnel, “this one is okay. It opens up into a cave, and so it’s protected from the snow.”
Understanding refuses to set in. A cocktail of emotions is washing over me.
Safe. I’m not going to die. We’re not going to die.
My joy is short lived. So we’re not going to die in the fire, but fact is the bad dudes are still out there, and they’ve got fucking guns.
Just the thought of them makes my heart beat faster and fear takes a hold of me once again.
Chapter 33
Dylan
I stare at the screens.
It’s fucking risky, but it’s got to be done. Sure, we can stay in here—but then what? The cabin is on fire. and it’ll take a while for the heat to subside for us to exit the way we came in.
What’s more, I want to get the fuckers who are doing this to Emma, to us.
We need to get out, and I need to go after them and stop them.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Emma. It seems to finally be sinking in that we’re not going to die in this room. Although she still looks a bit, I don’t know, overwhelmed.
I guess it’s a lot to take in. One minute, we’ve had the most amazing fuck, and the next, she stumbles upon my secret lair and spy equipment.
Pity I don’t keep more stuff stocked up down here. A bit of food, water, spare clothes, and weapons would come in really fucking handy right now.
But of course, over time, I let my guard down. Never let your guard down, first rule of combat. And what the fuck had I done?
Not to worry. I rummage around the drawers and shelves in the hope of finding something useful. A stick of dynamite would be fucking awesome. I’ve got visions getting out of our hideout and me running down the mountain to get ahead of these bloodsuckers and throwing a dynamite stick their way. The car would be blown up.
