She kept up, somehow, not even caring how she looked lurching around after him. She just kept going, because what the hell did one more mile matter? At the end of that mile, what was one more? She was under the impression he would have to stop sometime, so until then, she trudged around after him, head bowed, body numb, brain shut off.
Finally, the psychotic stalker stopped among some trees and put down his pack. Jenna stared at him for some long minutes, blinking, thinking it couldn’t be true. Thinking he was joking. Surely he would walk another ridiculous number of miles at a near sprint with her trailing behind like a lame pack mule…
“Do you need some help with your pack?” he asked.
She heard the words but didn’t perceive their meaning, as her feet were pounding so hard that they were trying to rip through her shoes. She noticed concern on his face and looked around for the cause.
“Jenna?”
“Huh?”
“Are you okay?”
“Are we done now? Can I stop walking? For reals?”
“I think we’ll stop here. We’ve covered a lot of ground today. I didn’t think you’d be able to go so fast.” He was mocking her in that straight-faced way he had.
“Huh.” She remained standing, not quite sure how to negotiate her body to get the pack off without toppling over. Her feet hurt so badly it was an effort to block out the pain. This situation might win her life’s contest of the most uncomfortable shoes worn for the longest period of time. “I am going to wrap my hands around Don Jeffries’ fat neck and squeeze.”
Josh moved around her and took the pack off her. The moment the weight was off her back, she dropped to the ground. Josh looked down on her for a few seconds, determined she was fine, and then set up camp. He started a small fire, got everything ready, and came back to her.
“Your options for dinner are canned food, or hanging out while I either hunt some rabbit or see if I can raid one of the metal bins. There is one not too far off, but I’m not sure if it will have fresh meat in it.”
“I don’t want to bother eating.”
“Jenna…”
“Just do the canned food, then. I don’t care what goes in. Speaking of, I have to pee.”
“What does peeing— Never mind. Do you want an escort? There isn’t anything around. Just stomp your feet and pick your stop and you should be fine.”
“Okay.” She didn’t get up.
A small grin crept up his face. “Tired?”
She looked at him silently, devoid of expression—mostly because so many things hurt that she’d shut down the feeling part of her brain. His smile slipped.
Now he knew what it was like talking to a concrete wall. She had to admit, it was an effective way to shut people up. She might have to work on that when the muscles in her face started working again.
“Is my being tired funny to you?” she asked evenly.
“Your stubbornness is what’s funny. You got tired, what, before lunch?”
“I hate you.”
His smile crept back up. “Hate and love are parallel emotions.”
“Oh shut up.” She held out her hand to be helped up. He did so without comment. She trudged into the trees, pulled down her pants, fell bare butt into the dirt, and peed sitting down. Thank God for baby wipes.
When she got back, an array of cans were heating on the open fire. “Cowboy style,” Josh said without looking up.
She sat down heavily again. Since Josh was preoccupied, she undid the laces of the first boot. It would have to come off sooner or later.
She pulled on the heel. A flare of excruciating pain vibrated up her leg.
Leaving it for now, she undid the laces of the other. Another flare of pain.
Then she sat and looked at them.
They kept a steady beat of misery, pounding up her leg, amplifying in intensity the longer she sat immobile. The agony from earlier was the numbed-down version, it seemed.
This was way worse than the four-inch heel incident. Definitely a new winner.
The difference was that she had another three days of walking.
“What’s up?” Josh asked from the fire. She was still staring at her feet, which were stretched out in front of her. Her hands lay limp in the dirt at her sides.
“Nothing.” She knew she would get the gloating, but she was hoping the fire in her feet would go away first.
Josh intently stared over at her, clearly trying to identify the malfunction. He looked back at the cans, and then back at her, obviously debating how much time he had to clue it out. “Need help with the shoes?” She could hear the smugness lingering in the words.
She squinted at him, the horse’s ass. “No.”
He chuckled and went back to the cans. When he came over with the food, she ate without tasting. It was probably for the best.
Waiting until Josh moved away with the empty cans, she steeled herself to remove the first boot. A hand on her toe, and one on her heel, she gave a small tug.
A hungry animal of pain crunched into her food with razor-sharp teeth.
She tensed up and then cursed softly under her breath. Breathing deeply to control the pain, she gathered courage to progress. Her hands shook as they held the boot. A little tug, and then a flare of intense pain akin to torture. If only she knew the secret to make it stop.
“Okay.” She licked her lips. This had to happen.
“Here.” Josh knelt before grabbing her shoe.
A roar of anguish rushed up her leg. She cried out, reaching for his hand to stop him.
“Gently, Josh. And please don’t say you ‘told me so’ on this one. I don’t want to hear it.”
Josh’s hands softened as he turned into his nursing counterpart. He wiggled the boot off.
Jenna squeezed her eyes shut and clawed at the ground, stifling a sob with the intense and unyielding pain that beat on her feet and legs.
Josh sucked in a breath. “Jenna…”
She was in trouble. She could hear it in his voice.
At least he wouldn’t gloat, damned asshole. It was a small consolation.
She took slow, deep breaths as he got up and moved away. When he knelt back down, he had a lantern and his little blue bag. She got the first look at her foot.
Definitely a winner.
Blood welled up through the sock in five places across her toe and on her heel. Along the side of her foot, pus had turned the sock a weird yellow color. The top of her foot seemed fine, which was a small consolation. Very small.
“How long have… What… You are a fucking idiot, you know that? Why didn’t you say something?” Josh’s voice wasn’t raised, per se. It was hostile, that was clear. Seething, certainly. She was pretty sure she would end up in the lake if there was one close. As it was, she was on her way to being strangled; she was sure of that.
She had no idea what he was so pissed about. It was her feet.
“You have this really irritating habit of gloating.” She moved from side to side, trying to ease the weight on her tailbone. She didn’t need any other places hurting.
“I don’t… You…” Josh put his hand to his hip, clearly having a hard time formulating words. “So you walked around on bloodied feet, at a pace you couldn’t match even if you had good shoes, so you could do what, prove me right?” The further he got into the sentence, the louder his voice became.
“See? Gloating. Did you have siblings? You did, right? Two sisters?”
“What does— Are you on drugs?”
“I bet they beat the piss out of you because you shoved it in their faces when you got a medal or beat them at something. You should’ve hooked up with Erika. You two could take turns gloating at each other.”
“We aren’t any closer now to our destination than I planned at the start of the day. We were walking fast, but basically going side to side.”
“I know.”
“Why the f—” Lips in a thin line, he sat down in front of her, Indian style. His nostrils flared with the deep bre
aths he was taking, trying to calm down. He was failing.
“Jenna,” he started again in an even tone. “Please explain to me why you didn’t say something.”
“For the same reason you decided to go eight hundred miles out of our way to keep the pace you knew was too fast.”
Josh slumped, the anger visibly draining from his face and body. “Jenna…I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t…” He exhaled nosily. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You can say you’re sorry to your sisters, who probably got in trouble for beating you when you so obviously deserved it.”
“Me being sorry doesn’t prevent you from being an idiot, you know. If you weren’t so stubborn you could have avoided this.”
“Shhhh. I made my bed and I’m going to lie in it. Preferably with my feet outside in the cold.”
After taking off the other shoe and revealing a foot that looked as bad as the first, he peeled off the socks. She didn’t bother looking at the damage. It’d only depress her.
Josh got to work with his ointments, gels, and other weird-smelling items. The throb dimmed, settling down into a buzzing of pain. With the pain in her feet minimized, though, it left her room to feel the other aches and pains around her body.
Whoever decided walking for days at a time through the woods was a good idea should be shot. Those morons who paid for it should donate all their yearly earnings to charities instead of throwing it away.
When Josh was done, he sat behind her and massaged her shoulders. She wasn’t sure if he felt bad for the feet, or for the gloating, but either way, she wasn’t complaining.
True to her desires, she slept with her feet sticking out of the bottom of the sleeping bag. Josh, still sucking up, offered her sex, or if she wasn’t up to that, oral sex, which she had to turn down for fear her feet would touch something. A big O wasn’t worth the agony to get there.
She could tell it made Josh feel worse…which made her feel marginally better.
The next morning sucked. She had to put the cursed boots back on, because walking in flip-flops would get all kinds of dirt in her open wounds. Every time she stepped, agony shook up her leg. Every time agony shook up her leg she blamed it on Don Jeffries. By the end of the day, she had identified five people who owed her a big enough favor to arrange a hit on Don.
Josh was obviously under the impression she was mad at him, since she was so quiet. That or she was in too much pain to talk. He went from babying her to offering to carry her. He also tried to slow down to a crawl, which meant she had to be on her painful feet for longer.
Finally she just started talking about her designs to keep her mind off her feet and Josh’s mouth shut. On the upside, she actually did get a few things worked out.
They had more canned food for dinner, and Jenna got another foot doctoring and massage. This time he didn’t offer the oral sex, which was too bad, because she would have gone for it.
Around the middle of the night, Jenna came wide awake with a start. Her back was cold where Josh’s heat usually was curled around her. She rolled to her back, finding emptiness.
The tent flap stood open, the darkness looming just outside. A tingling worked up her spine and settled between her shoulder blades. That was when she noticed that the sound of nature around her was turned off. It was too quiet. Abnormally quiet. Something was out there.
Moving slowly, she sat up and pushed the sleeping bag to the side. Grabbing clothes at random, she covered herself before sliding her fingers around the handle of the gun. Ignoring the pain in her feet, she put on flip-flops and crawled from the tent as quietly as she could. With adrenaline pumping through her body, she only felt a twinge of pain.
Determined not to make a sound, she crept by the glowing embers of the dying fire and then the shadows that were camping equipment. Fizzies bubbled up through her stomach, her flight reflex going active.
Something was definitely here, though it could just be Josh. He wouldn’t have left without waking her, and she doubted someone could sneak up on him and put a knife in his ribs without a struggle. The question was: what else was here?
She kept the gun pointed downward. Bringing it up while flicking off the safety would cost her precious moments, but it had been a while since she was a hardened, strung-out teen tramping through the ghetto with gun in hand. She had been confident back in the day, not so much now. Itchy trigger finger was not good when a loved one was hiding in the dark.
She nearly punched herself in the face when she realized she’d thought of him as a loved one.
Focus.
Definitely not a hardened teen running through the ghetto.
Darkness draped across the ground and pooled in the deep places where moonlight couldn’t reach. One of those patches of darkness beckoned her and repelled her at the same time, danger and safety. It had to be Josh.
She swung around in the opposite direction, not wanting to give him away. If there was something else around, she’d serve as bait.
A few moments trickled by in the unnatural silence. Nothing moved, not even a flicker. That pool of shadow pulsed danger, but everything else seemed normal. Not on her radar.
She turned back to that darkness. It had to be Josh. Had to be.
But what if Josh was off somewhere with the shovel? He was quiet even when there was nothing wrong.
Or what if he had struggled, and that was what had woken her up? He wouldn’t have cried out, even on his deathbed. What if they’d got him?
A terrible ache struck her heart, stealing her breath. She shook her head to clear the emotion and deny her thoughts. No way. Not Josh.
Sucking in a ragged breath through the pressure on her chest, she aimed for that pool of shadow. The itching between her shoulder blades intensified, yelling at her to run away. Walking toward unknown danger went against everything she’d learned. It was madness.
What if it isn’t Josh?
She hesitated and stared into the black that she was almost certain was staring back.
God, she hoped it was Josh. This was pure stupidity if it wasn’t. Why wasn’t he saying anything, though?
With a tighter hold on her gun, she slowly inched into the shadows. Branches reached above her, cutting out the glare from the moon. In the pit of darkness now, she could just make out a shape sitting on a log with a giant serrated knife.
A bead of sweat dripped down her back despite the chill. She tightened her grip on the gun. “Please put your knife down, Josh.” Her voice hitched. “I don’t want to shoot you.”
“You wouldn’t shoot me.”
She let the breath whoosh out of her body. It was him.
“Holy crap, you are a scary bastard.” She wiped her forehead as the terrible itching muted. She still sensed danger, but she knew the danger she was facing now. She could handle it.
“Are you okay?” she asked, inching closer. Like with that rattlesnake, she didn’t want to make any sudden movements. Josh was slightly unhinged at the moment.
“Had some bad dreams,” he said in a rough voice. “I think danger is getting closer. I always had disturbing dreams in the field when shit was askew.”
“Am I in danger from you?” It had to be asked.
“Are you scared?” he asked in a gravelly voice from a horror movie.
“No. But I would just as soon not sit beside you if I’m going to get your knife in my ribs.”
“Never, Jenna. I would never hurt you.”
She trusted that. Victims always did, didn’t they? Women trusted Ted Bundy, and look how that turned out.
She inched closer, more to prevent herself from stepping on something hard and hurting her foot than because she was afraid that fast movements would make him react violently. She found his log and heaved herself up on to it, then fell quiet, sharing the silence.
Being with him like this gave her a warmth she couldn’t explain. There was an easiness to it. The guy was sitting next to her with a giant knife and thinking about demons from his dreams, an
d she felt completely safe. It made no sense.
Love makes no sense.
This time she nearly did punch herself in the face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered.
“Would you have shot me if I had rushed you just now?”
“Do you mean, do I think I am quick enough, or would I have actually tried?”
“Tried.”
“No.”
“Then why did you say it?”
“In case it wasn’t you. You seem to think I know when it’s you hiding in the darkness. Truth is, I have no idea who, or even what, might be waiting for me. You or some creature. Or a crazed gunman that has already killed you and is waiting for me. I just sense danger.”
“And I am dangerous?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“But you aren’t scared of me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Nope.”
“Are you stupid?” Thankfully that was a question. He had a little hope for her.
“Actually, Mr. Hyde, as I recall, I am a fucking idiot.”
They passed into silence again until Jenna’s eyes started to get droopy. She asked, “Can I interest you in coming back to bed? Or…our version of bed.”
He said nothing for a minute, and then got off the log. She felt him take the gun from her. She let him. Then she felt his arms close around her before hugging her close. She allowed herself to be carried, thankful she didn’t have to walk through the dark again. She’d missed all the rocks on the way over; there was no hope she would miss them on the way back.
He tucked her safely into their sleeping bags, stripped off all his clothes, and got in beside her. She figured that meant sex was coming, but the tingle of anticipation was short -lived. He wanted to get close and didn’t want to be buffered by his fabric. He wrapped himself around her and settled in.
Before she dozed off, he said, “The safety was still on.”
She couldn’t tell if it was an accusation for not knowing what she was doing, or something else.
“I know. I didn’t want to accidentally shoot you.”
She felt him nod, and when nothing else was said, she drifted off to sleep, wondering what waited for them.
Unexpected Danger (Skyline Trilogy Book 2) Page 8
