by J. C. Cliff
Out of nowhere, my phone is snatched away from my ear and pulled out of my hand in one swift movement. It happens lightning fast as I watch in horror, one large, tanned hand snapping the flip-phone shut from over my shoulder. Both startled and frightened, I let out a loud, piercing scream. My pulse races wildly out of control as my body is helplessly whipped around, and I wind up face-to-face with a very angry Quinn. Why is he pissed?
“What the hell?” I blurt out, upset that he not only scared me, but he rudely cut off my call.
“Do you have something to tell me?” he growls accusingly, as if I’ve done something wrong.
My eyes open wide, taking offense to his tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, what’s your real story? You lied. You said you were going to the bathroom, but you snuck off to make a phone call.” He draws his dark eyebrows together, making him look even more pissed off. I've never seen him this way before, and I don't like it.
“I didn’t sneak,” I bark back, flat out lying to him. “It’s a free country, last I checked. Is there a crime against making a phone call?” I hiss in self-defense.
His temper is rising, and he crosses his arms over his broad chest, his biceps bulging beneath the bands of his short sleeves. “Who was on the phone?” he demands.
“What?!” I’m taken aback by his display of dominance. “That is none of your business.”
“It's very much my business, especially if I'm hiking with you.” He pauses briefly before he lectures me in a condescending tone, “Let's get real for a minute, shall we? You came out here for a damn long hike without knowing jack-shit about hiking. You wore a brand new pair of boots that you didn’t break in ahead of time. Hell, half the crap in your bag still has the price tag on it. Who does that?” His voice is loud and condemning as he leans into my personal space, his nostrils flaring. “What’s your real story, Lexi? What, or should I say who, are you running from?”
I run a shaky hand through my hair and look away. He’s right. He’s too perceptive, always reading between the lines, and he probably had me pegged the second he ran into me that I’m on the run. However, as much as I’ve grown to like Quinn, he has no right to push me for answers. It’s also not fair to pull him into my dangerous game, because Vince is playing for keeps, and he's already proved what he can do to trap me. Vince wouldn't blink an eye to remove human road blocks.
“I’m sorry, Quinn. I think maybe it’s time we separate.” My heart stops beating for a full second, because I really don’t want to say goodbye, but if I have to, I will. It's for his own safety, and then I can't help but ask myself what kind of game I'm playing by keeping him around. It's not fair to either one of us for me to get attached to something that can't be. I can’t tell him my story. I can’t tell anyone, for that matter. “We need to go our separate ways.”
His head jerks back as if I’d bitch slapped him, and his brows turn downward, matching his frown. I've shocked him. “Angel,” a bewildered whisper leaves his lips, “you don’t mean that.”
He tentatively reaches out to touch my cheek, like one does approaching a frightened filly. My eyes are filled with turmoil as he tries to reason with me, “You can’t mean that. We’re into the deepest part of the trails right now. You don’t have the knowledge, or the supplies, to get you where you want to go.”
His voice sounds pained, yet full of sympathy…for me. “I don’t think you even know where it is you want to go. You’re just going...aren’t you?”
His question has struck a chord deep within me, because he's right, I'm just going. My eyes fill to the brim with tears. My life is so screwed up, I don’t know what to do about anything. I don't know why he’s being so good to me, nor can I comprehend why he continues to camp with me, especially since he told me he doesn’t spend this kind of one-on-one time with women. I really don’t get it. I don't understand why he's still around, because he's a player, and he's held off all of his sexual advances toward me, yet he's determined to stick with me. My head spins in confusion as he continues to try and make amends.
“You can tell me,” he gently prods, his eyes searching mine. “You’ve got a heavy burden on your shoulders. I can tell.”
I close my eyes tightly and a few tears slip down over my cheeks. He’s so shrewd and insightful. His soft, compassionate tone twists at my gut, breaking my willpower to send him on his way. Frustrated with my life, I fist my hands at my sides and stifle a sob. My breath hitches as a result.
As if he can read my mind, he softly pleads, “C’mere, Angel.” His endearment and tender request undoes me. My aggressive stance visibly dissipates, and then I lean into his waiting arms. He wraps his steel limbs around me like a fortress. I sniffle, laying my cheek against his muscled chest. “You’re so lost, and I just found you. Whatever lies ahead, we’re intended to discover it together. I’m sure of it.” How can he say those things? He doesn’t know me, and if he knew my burdens, he’d run the other way.
“I’m not used to this,” I confess in a low whisper.
“Used to what?”
“Trusting people,” I admit, wearing a sad frown. “Where I come from, I’ve learned not to trust anyone I don’t know, and lately it seems I can’t even trust those closest to me. I’ve always been able to rely on people in my inner circle, but… ” I stop myself from rambling on. I don’t want to say too much.
“Well now, that’s just sad.” He pulls his upper body away from me and lifts my chin with his fingertips. His blue eyes sparkle against the sunlight, full of compassion. “Everyone should have someone they are able to trust,” he gingerly tells me. “Some people are genuine through and through, and would never consider betraying your trust.”
“And you think you’re that someone?”
He shrugs his shoulders with indifference. “Maybe…maybe not, but you shouldn’t stop being who you are or punish those around you who are truly worthy of your trust. Not everybody is your enemy.”
I remain quiet, soaking in his words. I don’t believe Quinn is my enemy, but I didn’t think Connor would’ve done the heinous things he did either, and at the time, I thought him to be my best friend. Quinn’s calloused thumb strokes over my cheek, and I close my eyes, leaning the weight of my head into his palm. I soak up his soft touch and kind words, starved for the affection. “Sometimes, just getting shit off your chest, even to a stranger, can make a world of difference. It might even help you see things in a different light.”
I open my eyes and search his as I warily ask, “You think I need to get something off my chest?”
“Yeah, I do. You’ve got a story to tell. People just don’t run off into these trails alone, especially having never camped before. It makes me think you’re running from something.”
The words are on the tip of my tongue to tell him everything and release all the pent up tension, but I can’t. It’s an impossible task and a bad decision that could have some serious ramifications.
I lay my head back on his chest and listen to the beating thrum of his heart instead. “I’ll think about it, okay?” All I want right now is to take comfort in his arms and feel special, even though I shouldn't. I've already grown too attached.
He plays with the back of my hair, sending a wave of goose bumps down my spine. “I’d say that’s fair…for now. Promise me you will think about it.”
I nod my head against his hard pec. “I promise, and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Hey, don’t worry about it. I like you, Lexi. I like you a lot, and I don’t want us to separate,” he gently insists.
“Why are you so sweet?” I ask.
He lightly chuckles, the deep sound from his lungs reverberating in my ear. “I’m really not. Men aren’t sweet, and most times I can be a real hard-ass son of a bitch to deal with.”
I grin, and shyly respond, “Well, you’ve been nothing but sugar and honey to me.”
“Was that someone else standing in your place, getting my wrath not five minutes ago
?” His brows furrow together in question.
“I know you're only showing concern for me so that scenario falls into the spice category.” I squeeze him around the waist, pulling him tighter against me, showing him I care. “I really don’t want us to separate either.”
I know eventually he’s going to wear me down and demand answers. My emotions are split right down the middle as to what I should do. If I unload my problems, my only hope is that he won’t run the other way, because he’s not a long-term relationship kind of guy. I don’t know whether to follow my head or my heart. He’s most likely going to steal the rest of my heart on what is left of our journey, and by then, our little adventure will be over, as well as our relationship, and then where will that leave me?
Ever since I caught her talking on the phone, both of us have been on edge, albeit for different reasons. God, I was so angry when I overheard her talking about our location to only God knows who. Two things went through my mind at once. One, she was compromising our position, and two, she could’ve been talking to the father of her baby. Surprisingly, it was the latter that had me flying off the handle. I’ve become more attached to her than I care to admit. I have no plans on giving her phone back either. When she wasn’t around, I went through her phone, and quickly realized it was a burner. There was only one number in the phone, and I wasn’t calling it.
When she told me it’d be best if we separated, I felt sick to my stomach. I didn’t see that one coming. What was I going to do at that point? Drag her out of the woods like a caveman and drop her off in her father’s hands? The thought crossed my mind for a split second. In that same second, though, I realize the longer I'm with her, the more I really want to get to the bottom of her story, but her lips are sealed tight.
Right after we ate lunch, and despite me telling her the chances of her ever seeing another rattler was close to nil, she was ready to leave the waterfall. I don’t think the problem was snakes, however; it was the damn phone call she’d made earlier.
I had finally given up on either one of us trying to relax and enjoy the cooler temperatures by the water. I wound up giving in to her pleas of wanting to continue our hike. It was a grueling hike back, to say the least, as we had to work our way back up the mountain, but I had pent up aggression to burn off. Apparently, the both of us had something to work off on that trail, because we managed to get about ten more miles southward under our belt.
I found us a decent place to set up camp for the night. Plus, it had a nice fire pit for us to use. Right now, I’ve got a suitable-sized fire going as she sits beside it, relaxing. She hasn’t stretched out her muscles or drank much today, and I can’t stay silent anymore.
“Cramps suck, especially in the middle of the night, so you need to rehydrate with lots of fluids,” I inform her, impressing the importance of water, “because I didn’t see you drinking a whole lot on the trail today.”
Her lips thin in what I believe to be irritation, and I raise both brows in question. “I’m not hen-pecking you; I’m simply trying to prevent emergency situations from happening out here. Dehydration is serious, Lexi.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I just…”
“You just what? I’m confused.”
“I just hate peeing out here in the woods,” she admits, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from bursting out with laughter. Her eyes narrow on mine, as she can plainly see I’m amused. “You know, you guys don’t realize how easy you have it,” she huffs. “All you have to do is whip it out and pee. It's a real ordeal for a woman to piss in the woods. It's messy and disgusting.” She makes a face that has me covering my grin with the palm of my hand.
“Fine,” she grumbles, “I’ll stretch out.” She's not happy, but she repositions her body, and then bends over to stretch out her legs. Her fine ass is within an arm's length of me. I think she's tempting me on purpose, and I have to look away. I add another log to the fire, trying to keep myself from getting a hard-on.
“The more time you spend on the trail, the easier it becomes to adjust to a lot of things,” I encourage her while I get out the necessary ingredients to make dinner. Keeping my mind busy, and avoiding her sexy body, I get everything set up on the front end before I need to start cooking. It’s a habit of mine to have everything on the ready. With my fold-up frying pan and a few spices set out, I glance at Alexis, who’s quit stretching. She's been silently watching me work.
I pull out my knife, and as I make my first cut through the rattler’s tough skin, Lexi makes a low squealing noise. I pause with the knife in my hand to look her way. Her nose is all wrinkled up at the sight, and I have to suppress a chuckle. Kimber has stayed underfoot the entire time, hoping to get something other than dog food tonight.
I shake my head at her antics and continue to skin the rattler. She interjects with disgust, “How can you do that?”
“It’s easy. Want me to teach you?” I ask, holding the knife out for her to take.
“Eww, no!” Appalled, she shrinks back and wraps her arms around her stomach. I chuckle and go back to my work.
“What do you think people did in the old days, Lexi? It’s not like there was a grocery store around the corner. People had to survive, and I might add, that was only one generation ago.”
“See? That’s why I was born in this generation. I was meant to have grocery stores.”
I laugh out loud as I peel back the snakeskin, exposing the meat. She cringes and then looks the other way. “Damn, citified Yankee,” I mumble underneath my breath.
“Hey, I was born in the South. I’ll have you know the Mason Dixon line starts at the Maryland border, buddy.”
“Not in my book, it doesn’t. Your state turned Yankee the minute the first northerner migrated south.”
She picks up a small stick and raises it in her hand, threatening to chuck it at me. I know she’s teasing, but I raise a brow in challenge and watch her hesitate. Having second thoughts, she decides to toss it into the fire instead, as if that was her initial intent all along. I turn my attention back to the snake and finish cleaning it.
I begin to prepare the meat for cooking, when Lexi pipes in with a few questions. “What kind of rattlesnake was that?”
“An Eastern Timber snake.”
“How many different kinds of rattlesnakes are there?” she asks inquisitively, her voice pitching high.
“There are all kinds of snakes, Lexi,” I tell her as I place the meat on the frying pan.
“How do you know which ones are poisonous?”
“Well, some have colorings. One verse I learned as a kid was, red touch black, my friend Jack. Red touch yellow, kill-a-fellow.”
She giggles at my rhyme. “Oh, my gosh, that’s hilarious.”
“Coral snakes are the kill-a-fellow snakes,” I explain. “They aren’t going to reach out and bite you like a rattler would, but they’re the kind that like to crawl into your sleeping bag and bite you.”
She responds by making wild gestures with her hands and then convulses, letting out a squeal. Oh damn, she’s funny as hell, and she’s so easy to rouse.
“Oh, geez, I don’t care if you are the devil himself; I’m in your bag tonight, mister,” she points at me, her eyes full of distress.
“I’m not sure I’m any safer, Angel,” I counter with a devious smirk. “I do more than just bite.”
Her cheeks turn bright red as she blushes, and then she looks the other way, avoiding my stare. She blows out a long, controlled breath, and a deep, rich laugh escapes my lungs. She acts so innocent and coy; I have every reason to believe I’m witnessing the true Lexi in the flesh, and I like it.
She changes the subject, trying to avert my dirty mind from embarrassing her further. “It’s not funny, Quinn. I could’ve gotten killed.”
“Yes, but you didn’t get bit. If you keep me and Kimber around, we’ll take care of all your beasts.”
“Mmm…the beasts…yeah,” she says thoughtfully. “I have one of those in real life, except n
o one can conquer that one.”
I tilt my head, studying her briefly. That's the first time she's brought up a piece of her drama. “Well, you obviously haven’t been around me long enough, or you wouldn’t have said that.”
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I highly doubt you can handle this snake in the grass. I don’t think anyone can.” She then dips her head downward and wiggles her feet against the heat of the flames.
I finish cooking the first batch of rattlesnake, doing my best not to burn it, but try to make it as crispy as possible. I was able to make some breadcrumbs using bread from an MRE I had.
“What kind of snakes are red-touch-black?” she asks warily.
“Well, that would be your friend, Jack,” I start off.
“Oh, you are just…just…I’m at a loss for words.” She throws her hands up in the air, giving up.
I chuckle as I turn my attention back to cooking.
“How the hell…” She shakes her head. “No…never mind, I don’t need you to answer that question either,” she rambles on, talking to herself.
My shoulders shake as I silently laugh at her and her animations. By the time I set the second batch aside, I pick up a cooled piece of fried snake and lean over toward Alexis. When she realizes my intent of feeding her a chunk of snake meat, she shrinks back, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Uh-uh,” I lightly scold, “open.” Hesitantly, she opens her mouth and I place a piece of cooked snake on her tongue. I watch her intently as her soft, full lips close around my fingertips in a sultry move. She uses her tongue to lick around my fingers, and I know she’s trying to fuck with my head. My eyes heatedly narrow on hers. “You want to play games?” I rasp.
She shakes her head because she knows she’ll lose. I grin in satisfaction, and my ego swells as she chews what I’ve cooked for her. “I’m proud of you, you know that?”
“What for?”
