Gone Wild (2019 Reissue)

by E Cleveland

  “Ben, shut it off,” I hiss, not wanting to be picked up by the mic.

  “What’s that, hon?” He twists it back around to record me and I scowl. “How about you show us that you didn’t injure that sweet ass of yours and give the people at home a little twerk, hon? Come on, be a good girl and give us some jiggle, am I right? Throw those hearts up if you agree!”

  My eyes flicker to his screen full of floating, pink hearts and thumbs-up signs. Comments are filling up the bottom half of his phone screen at an unreadable pace.

  “No, I said turn it off.” I grit my teeth and raise my voice. I don’t give a fuck if the mic does pick me up.

  Suddenly, it comes to me. I want him to shut this off? Hit him where it hurts.

  “Ben.” I pout. “We need to talk about how you fucked my sister the night I ran off. I almost died out there in the cold of a broken heart because you couldn’t be loyal to me for ten minutes.” I let my crocodile tears build up and Ben’s abnormally tanned face bleaches out.

  “Why don’t you turn the phone around and explain how you almost helped destroy me by fucking my sister at our engagement party, hon? Hey, at home, send some love if you want to hear him explain himself,” I egg on the Facebook Live streamers.

  A flood of open-mouthed smileys making the “Wow” face rush over the screen.

  Ben drops the phone to his side and turns it off.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” He sneers and grabs my shoulder. “Why are you trying to ruin me?”

  “Don’t worry about it, honey, maybe you should just twerk it off or something.” I force a fake smile to cross my face.

  “Listen, I know you think you saw something that night, but you were drunk. You know how you’re a bit of a lightweight, especially with the expensive champagne, am I right?” He stops clenching my arm and lets his hand drop. “There’s no reason we can’t move on. Think of how epic our story will be. Everyone thought you were dead! We’ll be, like, a hundred times more famous if you play this right. I bet there could be a movie made about us,” he brags.

  “Imagine the possibilities.” My words are as cold as the arctic air that whistled around the cabin at night.

  “Okay, so I fucked Kate. It was a mistake. You don’t have to be such a bitch about it. Let’s move on and soak up all this buzz. You want to ruin what could be the biggest career move of all time for you because you’re pissed at me getting my noodle wet? Come on!” He gives up on his old sales pitch and tries a new direction.

  “There is no us. There’s no story to tell. You and I are over, Ben.”

  “Come on, we have this press conference to do.” He steamrolls over me.

  “We?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of media. You know, the poor almost widower thing, but this is ten times better. Now that you’re alive, we could have books written about us. I’ve gained, like, another two thousand followers today.”

  “Fuck you, Ben.” I storm across the room and fling open my hotel door. “I’m doing this conference to thank the people who found me and then if I ever see your fucking face again, I’ll be getting a restraining order.”

  “Oh, come on. So dramatic!” he cries out and I let the door slam shut behind me.

  I have to resist the urge to throw my fur coat on and run back out into the woods again. I have to stop telling myself that just on the other side of those trees is my salvation. My real man, waiting for me. He left. He left me and there’s nothing I can do.

  I look back at the door and listen to Ben talk on his phone. Probably to my sister. Foster sister.

  One thing is certain—my salvation might not be in Sawyer, but I’ve found it in myself. I’m stronger now and I will never, ever let any man treat me like I deserve less than the best ever again.

  35

  Sawyer

  I’ve got more than enough supplies to survive another three months, uninterrupted. My toboggan is stacked full and my hiking bag must weigh at least sixty pounds on my back. It’s going to make the trip back to my cabin difficult, but it’s worth it for the peace and quiet it will bring me.

  I know I should be making that trek right now. Pushing through the snow and climbing the steady slope of the mountain until I finally reach my home.

  So, why am I here?

  I peer out from the edge of the woods and look at the busy crowd setting up at the Alyeska Resort. There have to be at least thirty reporters here. All of them primping and setting up for perfect shots of the hotel.

  You’d literally have to be deaf to not hear about the big news conference that Elsie is going to be giving here. Every store I hit up; I was subjected to the gossip.

  “Did you hear? They found her!”

  “She’s alive, and I heard the resort is buying her off.”

  “She’s doing a huge conference and then her fiancé is flying her to Hawaii. I think I read that online.”

  They were all so invested in it. Obsessed with her recovery. Like, her adventure was one they shared. As if they were living vicariously through her.

  And they don’t even know her.

  It’s time to head out. She’s better off without me. It sounds like she’s got everything lined up perfectly. Now we can get on with our lives.

  I don’t move.

  I don’t stop staring out from the shield of the forest, hoping that somehow, I’ll catch a glimpse of her. That somehow, I’ll see on her face that she feels like this is a mistake. That she wants to come with me.

  To hell with this. I need to go. I can’t stand like a fucking stalker in the woods all night.

  My muscles ache from hauling my supplies for the last hour. Yet, I’m still a statue. I’m not even sure I’m blinking.

  Okay, that’s it. I drop my heavy bag from my shoulders and place it next to the toboggan. I’m going to check out this conference and see for myself that she doesn’t need me. That her little escape into the woods was just that. A break. An escape. A mini vacation from the life she wants and not the foundation for a whole new existence.

  I’ll see it with my own eyes and then I won’t be making any more excuses. I’ll be back to my log home in three days’ time and be able to live out the rest of my life with complete certainty that I’ve made the right choice.

  And that she has too.

  36

  Sawyer

  This room is too crowded, too hot, too bright. I manage to park my ass in one of the fold down chairs and try to blend in.

  I feel like a Where’s Waldo cartoon, in my plaid coat and beanie while news reporters and tourists buzz around me.

  On the platform at the front of the room is a long table with microphones set up. News anchors gather like flies near the front, all jostling for the best position to cry out their questions while their camera operators all try to capture the ultimate angles and most flattering lighting.

  I shouldn’t be here. I look down at my calloused hands and wonder what I’m doing. This isn’t where I belong. This is Elsie’s world. A world with no place for me.

  The crowd begins to cheer and clap. Many of the people around me rise to their feet as Elsie and a group of men walk onto the stage. The people around me settle back into the folding chairs as Elsie and her entourage take their seats on stage.

  I can barely hear the hotel manager make his speech. Even when the doctor reassures the crowd that Elsie is physically and mentally sound, it barely registers.

  All I can see is her. The crowd around me evaporates and the noises fade into oblivion as I watch her face. She looks lost. Her stunning features are covered in caked on makeup again, making her look older and more serious than when she was with me.

  Her long hair is pulled back into a high ponytail and her pouty lips are painted blood red.

  She looks too severe. Too contorted by lighting and cosmetics. I barely recognize the face that only hours ago, I was kissing.

  She scans the crowd, but it must be hard to see us with all the flashes exploding in front of her eyes. Elsi
e peers down at her hands, like she can’t face all the strangers anymore. I want to run to her. To wrap my arms around her and tell her she doesn’t need to play their games. She doesn’t need to do any of this. But I stay put.

  Suddenly the skinny man with slicked back, dark hair and an expensive suit that is sitting next to her, decides it’s time to make a speech.

  “Elsie, you’re the love of my life. When you were gone, I thought I’d lost you forever. I knew, somehow, that we’d be together again. That our love would bring us back together because you’re my soul mate.” He mugs at the cameras without even looking at her.

  That must be Ben.

  I watch as the douchebag that cheated on Elsie wipes nonexistent tears from his eye.

  “Fuck you, Ben.” Elsie stands up abruptly and the crowd gasps like she declared she has a bomb. “You can’t have a soul mate when you have no soul.”

  She storms off the stage, and a smile pulls at my lips. While the crowd of people throw their hands over their mouths in mock horror, I can’t help the laughter spilling out of me.

  That’s my girl.

  Ben follows her off the stage and I expect the show to be over.

  “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, you ungrateful bitch?”

  I can hear his voice over the speakers in the room. We all can. That moron never turned off his microphone pack.

  “Go away. I’m not doing this anymore. We don’t love each other, Ben. Let’s not pretend that what we ever had was real.”

  I sit a little taller, my smile growing as I listen to her.

  “Who fucking cares? It’s not about that. Just think of the opportunity you have here, Elsie. They’ll probably make a movie about us. You’ve never been more relevant. You were trending on Twitter. Trending,” he emphasizes and I roll my eyes.

  “I don’t care. This is over. I’m shutting down my social media. I’m done with all of this fake shit. I’m done with fake relationships and fake love and my big, fucking fake life.”

  The crowd gasps again. Apparently, these people have never heard someone swear before.

  “Don’t you walk away from me.” Ben’s voice drops as he growls at her. “I made you what you are.” I hear her cry out in pain.

  The crowd gasps again and I jump to my feet. I race down the aisle and storm the platform, dodging behind the curtains and down the hall where Ben has got his hands on my woman.

  “Let go of her now, you fucking creep,” I boom.

  “Sawyer?” Elsie twists her wrist from Ben’s grasp and rushes over to me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” He juts his jaw out at me, like he’s offering me a target.

  “Don’t worry about who I am, you just worry about keeping your hands to yourself.”

  “Get the fuck outta here, hillbilly.” Ben sizes me up and tries to push past me to grab Elsie.

  Except I don’t move.

  He might have had better luck getting the wall to budge out of his way.

  I grab him by his expensive shirt and crack him across the face with my meaty fist. In the conference room, I can hear the gasping crowd again. I swear, they’re probably fainting on the floor by now.

  Ben falls against the wall and holds himself up as he gets his bearings. “Whatever, I don’t even care about that bitch anyway.” Obviously, he didn’t learn his lesson the first time, so I cock my fist and smash it across his face again. He flattens against the floor, rolling his back and grabbing his jaw.

  “I’m gonna fucking sue you for assault.” He manages to stumble back onto his feet and shakes his head and tries to pretend that I didn’t just hand him his ass.

  Ben glares at Elsie and then at me before walking down the hall as nonchalantly as he can manage.

  Douche.

  “I thought you left.” Elsie looks up at me with tears in her eyes.

  “I couldn’t go without you,” I admit, pulling her into me. I crush her lips with my desperate kiss. A kiss I never thought I’d get to experience again. A kiss I’ll never let these lips miss for another moment.

  “I love you,” I murmur.

  “I love you too, Sawyer,” she breathes.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here.” I pull on her hand. She looks up at me knowingly and follows my lead. She knows that I’ll take care of her. That I’ll keep her safe. That as long as we’re together the rest of the world can slide away behind the setting sun.

  A world of two is all we need.

  37

  Elsie

  “Are you ready yet?” Sawyer scolds me with a smirk on his face.

  “Oh, give me a break, I’m almost done.” I pull my backpack in tight against my shoulders and snap it up over my lightweight ski jacket.

  Of course, I would’ve loved it if we had run off into the woods together after the conference. It would’ve been romantic to leave in a whirlwind of optimism, letting our pasts blur behind us as we forged a new future together.

  Stupid. Reckless. Potentially deadly. But romantic.

  Instead, we flew back home. Except it’s not my home anymore. I’ve spent the last week getting ready to do this right. Gathering practical clothes to wear, finding my identification and my personal items, and getting rid of my downtown loft apartment.

  None of those things were romantic, but they were necessary to tie up all the loose ends. This decision is final. I’m not giving it a trial run. It’s my new life. My new life with my man, off the grid. Together.

  Of course, the packing and planning might not have been very romantic, but we still had plenty of time for turning up the heat.

  I feel like it was a huge accomplishment to get Sawyer to stay with me in the city while I got all of this sorted out. Every day I made sure I showed him exactly how grateful I was with his patience.

  I showed him in my old bed. On the floor. In the shower. On the kitchen counter.

  I think he got the idea.

  Now we’re back in Alaska and I already feel happier. I smile as heat spreads through my body at the memories we’ve made. I can’t wait to get to his log home and begin making a lot more.

  “Okay, I’m good to go.” I smile at Sawyer and his face lights up as he grins back at me.

  “It’s about time,” he teases me. Sawyer steps toward me and wraps his huge hand around the back of my head, pulling me in for an unhurried, sensual kiss. I can feel all the tension of the week drift from my limbs as the birds chirp in the trees around us. We’re beginning our journey back through the same forest that brought us together. Sawyer said it takes three days of hiking, but I’m up for the challenge.

  “Let’s get started,” Sawyer murmurs and tilts his forehead against mine, looking at my lips with his intense brown eyes.

  He steps back and lifts the rope for his toboggan, yanking it into action, and I follow behind him. No wonder his body is like forged steel. He effortlessly guides the supplies over the snow while carrying even more on his broad, strong back.

  I smile up at the bright blue sky and follow in his huge footprints. I’m ready for this.

  I’m ready to start my life with him. To take each day as an adventure. To live my life in moments instead of hashtags. I’m ready to love and be loved like I’ve only ever watched in movies. I’m ready to let the years slip by into oblivion as we grow old in each other’s arms.

  My heart is open.

  I’m ready.

  Epilogue

  Elsie

  I brush my hand over the freshly pulled carrots and small clumps of dirt fall back to the garden. Wiping my brow with the back of my free-flowing linen shirt, I look up at the enormous swatch of bright blue sky above.

  Summer is beautiful everywhere, but here, at the cottage, every moment is a lesson in the marvels of the season. I close my eyes and lean back on my hand, letting the warm breeze tickle my skin. In the distance, I can hear the water of the lake lapping at the shoreline.

  Peaceful doesn’t begin to explain this feeling. Perfection is a little closer. A shadow casts
over me and I flutter my eyelids open to see Sawyer smiling down at me. On his line, he has two speckled trout hanging, ready to be turned into the freshest fillets anyone has ever tasted.

  “Those will go perfectly with the salad.” I tilt my head and hold out my hand to him. Sawyer easily lifts me to my feet and wraps his rough hand around my waist.

  “How are you feeling today? You’re not pushing yourself too hard, are you?”

  “I was literally just sitting in the dirt, picking vegetables. I’m not made of glass, you know,” I scold him gently. The truth is, I love his concern.

  Sawyer’s soft lips kiss a trail down the side of my sensitive neck and I don’t remember what I was saying. I moan and lean back into him, enjoying the pulses of bliss spreading through my skin.

  “No, you’re much too sweet to be made of glass. Maybe sugar.” His breath billows over my collarbone as he murmurs to me. His hand protectively rests against my belly and I lean back into his hard body, feeling like there is nothing in this world he couldn’t protect me from.

  Protect us from, I remind myself.

  “I don’t want you pushing yourself too hard when you’ve got our little bean sprouting up inside you.” He nips my earlobe and a jolt shoots through me.

  “I’m not, don’t worry. I promise I’m taking it easy,” I reassure him for the hundredth time this week.

  It was amazing how quickly the change came. One day, Sawyer was teasing me for how little firewood I could chop or giving me a hard time for how little water I could haul. The day we found out I was pregnant all of that changed. Out with the good-natured ribbing about my not being able to keep up, and in with the pampering. At this rate, I’ll be delivering while he fans me with fern fronds and feeds me wild blueberries one by one.