Authors: Ever McCormick
"I'm saying what I want." I stood up straighter. I refused to back down. "I know what I want, and I'm asking for it."
"A couple of hours ago you wanted Michael."
"No, I didn't. I wa
nted to end it with him. I didn't know it then, but that's what I wanted, and that's what I did."
"Ina," he begged.
"Please," I begged back.
"This isn't some game
! I am not a game!" He stepped farther away from me as if his closeness was dangerous. He moved his gaze from my eyes too. He was removing each of his senses from me, trying to distance himself.
"It's not," I agreed.
"You can't use me to get over him. There are a million guys who want to be used, so why the hell did you come all the way out here?"
"What do you mean?" I got it. He was beyond hurt in his life, but why did he refuse to believe me now?
He sighed. "Ina," He sounded less angry, more confused. "Just like this mountain and these cabins, I was your escape. Women have tried to use me before because I'm here."
I bet it was more than that. I wonder if he downplayed every advance as being not really about him. How badly had his
fiancée fucked up his heart? I suddenly wanted to find this woman and give her a piece of my mind.
"I gave into you for some rea
son," he said, confiding, leveling with me. Even he didn't understand why he had dropped the guard he'd spent so much time building up when it came to me.
"Because you love me
too," I ventured.
He stared at me for a long time, measuring my words in his mind, weighing them to see if they balanced with his experience. He walked right up to me and grabbed my arm, not in a romantic way, though. In a slightly too rough way. I thought back to those first days on the mountain when I had been frightened of him.
"I want you to finish out your time at the cabin, and then I want you to go back and live your life the way you always planned. You graduated and you're scared of real life. That's all this is. I am doing you a favor. This detour is closed. Get back on the main road of your fucking life, and keep going."
I pulled his hand off of my arm and he looked down as if he hadn't even realized he'd put it there.
"I know exactly where I’m going," I said. "I don't need someone else to order me around."
"Don't you?
" He laughed. I seethed.
"You think you know everything about me? You think I'm avoiding real life out here?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Well, take a long look in the mirror. I'm not the one avoiding real life!" My voice was so angry I didn't recognize it. "Your mother and sister aren't the only ones you lost that day, Adam! Do
you see that? You died that day too. Because being afraid to live is the same as being dead!"
Silence, as silent as the forest can be, overtook our conversation. A cold wind blew through the windows to add to the chill. Although we were just standing there, both of us breathed hard as if we were stopping in the middle of a long jog.
"You don't know what you're talking about. Go back to your cabin and pack your stuff." He turned back to his wall of blue stones. I watched him add a few more stones to the mosaic he was building now. Looking over all of the stones, how they'd been sorted and cleaned and arranged on his wall in this very particular way that told a story seemed like a metaphor to me.
He was building a wall out of the mountain. And even now, as I stood behind him, begging to be let in, the longer he stayed out here, the better he got at sealing everyone out.
"I do know," I said. "I'm telling you the truth and I am sure of it. I love you, Adam. I want you. I don't care if we move to the city or if we stay right here in the middle of nowhere. With you, I'm happy."
He didn't answer, didn't turn back. He continued to hide behind his wall
, not even allowing me the sight of his emotions on his face.
I let the door slam behind me as I retreated back to the trail that led to my cabin.
*
As I stormed down the trail, I muttered curses and repeated my outbursts to myself. What the hell is wrong with him? I asked aloud several times, occasionally directing the question to the oblivious woodland creatures, who stared at me in confusion or darted away with a backward glance to make sure I wasn't following them.
Sometimes I just asked the air. Other times I pointedly asked wildlife, "What the hell is wrong with him?" Squirrels scampered off. Chipmunks chewed on acorns and watched me suspiciously.
The closer I got to my cabin, the more the feelings began to transf
orm from anger to hurt. What the hell had just happened? How could I have screwed this up so much? It really seemed like I had gotten through to him, that he had felt something for me just as I had for him.
I was feeling lonely
and hurt when the tears threatened to come. At the same time, a dark cloud rolled in front of the sun and the entire trail took on a cool, eerie feeling. Chills ran up my arms, and I wished that I hadn't asked Michael to leave, or that Michael had never shown up and I still had Adam by my side. I felt very alone.
The fear eased as soon I heard the
thump of footsteps behind me. Adam had changed his mind. He'd realized what a colossal ass he was being, and he was coming to apologize. I was so relieved. I turned around with a happy smile and almost swallowed my tongue.
"Well, well, well," the dirty, disheveled man said. A rough, knotted up beard showed that he had been in the woods for awhile. His clothes were ripped and stained. Blood spattered across one of his eyes, and it had turned a dead brown. My eyes quickly darted down to his bright orange slip-on shoes and then back to his face.
"Roadsie?"
His eyes flickered in surprise and then amusement. He walked up to me and I didn't dare move. He rubbed his thumb across my jawbone. He was so close, I could smell his putrid breath.
"You know my name," he said. "Well, you must be just as excited to meet me as I am you."
22
My breath came out shockingly slow given the racing tempo of my heartbeat. His eyes moved over my skin, taking in everything. He reached out and grabbed my waist with a thick, strong hand. He squeezed too tight and I backed away instinctively. He grinned.
"You're a good girl," he said as if he thought it was funny. "I like that."
I swallowed hard and refused to not meet his eye. As frightened as I was, I couldn't let him know it.
He started to walk around me. I flicked my head to the side so I could watch him as he moved behind me. He was staring at every square inch of my body. The cool mountain air against my sweaty skin, the events of the day so far, and the stare of a killer had all of my body parts heaving and attentive, and his blatant stare let me know that he was excited by me. He licked his lips and grinned as he came to my other side. He focused on my breasts without any shame. I stared at him waiting for him to speak.
"Are you as turned on as I am?"
I swallowed. I considered running. My only goal was to get away from this maniac. My only goal was to run for my life as far as I could just as soon as I got a chance.
He could read my mind. He moved his hand and let it rest on the
machete that was sheathed in his belt. I could see just the edge of the blade glimmering in the sun.
"For every syllable that comes out of your mouth, I’ll cut you."
He laid his hand on my bare shoulder and ran his thumb across the skin, licking his lips.
"You sh
ould see the letters I get in prison." He laughed to himself. "The moment you get locked up, women from coast to coast start writing, offering to visit. Shit. The greatest aphrodisiac is the lock up." He stepped closer so that I could not only smell his breath but feel it on the shoulder he had just touched. He spoke in a low voice that made chilly bumps pop up over my entire body. "Forget about the good girl act," he ordered. "I know I turn you on. I've
seen
with my own two eyes what a bad girl you are. It's okay. You can enjoy this."
My
eyes stayed on his. How was I going to free myself? With my gun in the cabin, I suddenly felt so stupid. Who was I to come out here and think I could survive? I didn't have my weapon, and I could barely remember the tactics I'd learned in self-defense class.
He raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression, and I moved as fast as I could, bringing up my hands to scratch at his eyes. All I had to do was incapacitate him for a few seconds to get a head start in running away.
I remembered that much.
He dodged his head out of the way and I immediately regretted the action. I brought my hand back again, this time aiming for his nose
, but I knew that slightest hesitation had given him enough of a chance to get his bearings. He grabbed my wrist and squeezed until I winced in pain. Then he dropped my arm.
The interested expression in his face had shifted to anger. He drew the knife from his belt, pushed me around, and wrapped his arms around my body, holding the cold blade against my neck. The steel was pushed into my skin so far, I thought he might already be splitting the skin.
"Please," I begged. It sounded hoarse and pathetic.
He laug
hed. "I know what I'm doing, Ina."
I closed my eyes, sick to my stomach that he knew my name.
"If I wanted you dead, you'd already be a corpse."
He let a hair's breadth of air between my skin and the blade and ran his fingertip over the line where the knife had been.
"Don't make me hurt this body before I enjoy it. Stop fighting."
I shuddered. My mind wrestled itself for a piece of knowledge that could save me from this, but I came up short.
"Where have you been hiding?" I asked.
He grinned. "Always close. You know, when I got out of that prison, I had one thing on my mind: Get away. Pussy wasn't even on my radar. Got hook ups all over the country. Got at least twenty women ready to open their beds to me. All I have to do is show up."
"Then why me?"
He dropped the hand with the knife and walked around me so we faced each other. The lengths of our bodies kept touching he was so close. He was slightly taller than me, and his skin was so covered in nicks and cuts that I surmised he must be in great pain from living out here in the elements even though the expression on his face showed nothing but glee.
"The day I saw you eating that apple on your porch—" He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, sticking out his tongue and shaking his head. "I was pretty sure you knew I was watching. You were doing it for me. It was just too seductive to be a coincidence." He stared at me for a long moment. I began to tremble. "You knew I was watching, didn't you? I love the innocent act. It turns me on." He dropped his voice to a whisper: "But I think you want my dick as bad as I want to give it to you."
I wanted to lie. I wanted to get this guy tangled into a web of lies so I could
tie him up in them and run away. If I couldn't win this fight by force, then perhaps I could win with wit. But I couldn't bring myself to lie and say I was attracted to him. I watched his eyes roam over me again. He scraped his teeth across his lips.
He leaned in close to my ear. "When I saw you on the hammock, I
knew you needed it. I know others have been there, but not like I’ve got planned for you. You need it rough. That’s why you’re here, Ina. I’m what you came looking for."
My eyes blinked open. The trail in front of me was empty and I felt my instincts push me into flight. I listened. I took off as fast as I could.
The thumping of my feet on the solid ground shut out every noise and sight around me. I ran and ran and hoped, and I refused to acknowledge that trying to get away from this guy was impossible. I ran with all my heart until I felt a hard thump at my back, the cold smooth blade against my skin again and the maniac's much less gentle touch on my arm. He pulled my arm behind my back and held me tight against him.
He swiped the knife across my forehead and blood dripped into my eye.
"No," I begged.
"Don't pretend you're innoc
ent," he said. "I saw you play two different guys while I waited for you." He tied a rough lead of rope around my wrists and knotted it so I couldn't get free. Every time I pulled away, the knots tightened.
As he pushed me down the trail, so cruelly that I continually tripped over my own feet, he let me know he wasn't going to let me off easily. His tone of voice was tinged with annoyance.
"I'd be in New Orleans by now if you weren't running around this forest, tempting me. You did this!" He shoved me hard so I stumbled and then he pulled the rope, bringing me back to him so he could press the knife against my back.
When my cabin came into view, I began shaking. The farther we got away from Adam, the more I worried about what would happen to me. Would he rape me? Would he kill me? Would he take me somewhere? The shaking grew violent, and my captor seemed to delight in my fear.