Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Just as it’s sinking in that he’s here, he’s really here, and I’m sagging with relief, I hear a loud crack. Followed by another and then one more.
Gunshots.
My body freezes, but my eyes are frantic. They go to his chest first; he’s breathing wildly, as if he’s been running too. Before I take in his shoulder, all alert and taut, and then his outstretched arm, which I follow all the way down to his hand that’s holding the gun.
It’s smoking. The gun, I mean.
It’s the first time I’ve seen something like that in real life, wisps of smoke coming out of the barrel. I think this is also the first time I’ve seen a dead bear. It’s lying on its side, and I can see three holes in its body. One in its temple and two in the side, blood dripping from all of them. Its eyes are open, though, just like its mouth, revealing sharp teeth shining in the night, and I have to look away.
Panting, I glance back at him. “You… Y-you came.”
His chest moves at my words, almost like a shudder, and he finally looks down at me. His features are tight and sharp, but other than that, they’re blank as a slate. I don’t care, though. I don’t care that I can’t read him. That I can never read him. Or that he wants to use me for revenge, and I’m back to where I started for the third fucking time.
Maybe I’m not meant to leave him. Maybe I’m meant to be at his side. Till death do us part. I know it all sounds crazy, but I don’t care about that either. All I care about is that he’s here and he saved my life and I…
I throw my arms around him.
I wind them around his neck and without ever—ever—having done this move before, I hoist myself up on his body. I jump up and my thighs go around his very narrow, very cut and muscular hips. And he helps me. I feel his hands go under my butt so he can give me a boost and now I’m completely, irrevocably, wrapped around him.
Good. Perfect. This is exactly where I want to be.
With him.
I shove my face against his neck and breathe him in. I breathe in his clean scent, ripe with sweat and musk, as I whisper, over and over, “You came. You came for me. You came… You…” I nuzzle my nose in his pulse. “I was so scared. I was so… I thought I was going to die. I thought this was the end and… God, I can’t believe you have a gun. I can’t believe you shot him. I can’t… You never said anything. You never…”
Both his arms are wrapped around my body, and at my words, both of them squeeze my waist. Almost suffocating me. It feels so good, getting my breaths cut off after breathing like crazy, that I melt into him even further. My body finally relaxes and my curves drape over his hard muscles.
That’s when he starts walking, but I have my nose buried in his neck and my fingers fisted in his hair so I don’t really pay attention to it all. In fact, I think I close my eyes at some point, being lulled to sleep by immense relief and his rhythmic steps. By his rising and falling chest; his arms that are still squeezing me, cutting off my air.
It’s glorious.
But it’s over too soon when he comes to a halt and forces us apart. He does it with a hard jerk, unlocking my limbs from around his body and putting me down on my feet. And while I’m blinking awake, trying to catch up to his abrupt actions, he spins me around.
I teeter on my feet, my shoulders crying out in pain at his rough ministrations. “What are you…”
I get my answer when I feel him sliding the rope around my wrists. The coarse material chafes around my skin, but I don’t make a peep. In fact, for a second, I feel comfort. I feel safe being his captive. But then that illusion is quickly broken, too, when he ties the knot so tightly that a gasp escapes me. My skin burns and I try to look behind me, but once again, he dominates my body with his and lifts up my now tied hands.
Again, he does it so hard that my shoulders scream in agony and tears of pain well up in my eyes. But I guess I should’ve saved them for what he does next.
He takes the long end of the rope he used to tie my hands and throws it up in the air. I watch it go over the branch of the tree up above before he catches the tail when it comes down. And then, I watch—no, I feel—him pull it down and down, that rope, as my arms go up and up and holy God, up.