Chapter Six

Vera

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The clothes he gave me smelled just like him, the juniper highlights swirled through the tightly weaved material, hijacking my body. I shouldn't have cared about that, and I definitely shouldn't have had flutters skimming across my belly the way I did.

But as I sat and inhaled his deep musk, it sparked another memory. A two second glimpse into the night he found me. I could clearly see the thick stubble of his jaw from beneath as I was perched in his arms.

I tried to focus on his features, on the firm lines and hard angles, only I couldn't see his face. But being matted against his chest, the way it felt to be in his arms and the smell of his clothes as a breeze blew between us, forcing his aroma into my nose, it came to life in my mind.

He really carried me. . .

He carried me in his arms through the woods and back to his cabin.

The thought fed a new feeling, one that was full of torridity, excitement, a lavish thirst that made my throat dry. That vivid memory of how it felt to be wrapped inside him and pressed against his body swept in, creating a lingering sensation on my skin.

Crossing my arms, I ran my fingertips up and down them and closed my eyes to picture his arms around me.

He had hugged me tightly, curling me up and bracing me against his chest. A soft hum of words I couldn't understand buzzed in my ear. He had said something to me as he whisked me away from danger, away from death and back into life.

What was it, what did he say?

Stuffing his clothes almost up my nose, I took in another long deep breath, trying to make those words audible. I wanted to remember what he said to me, I wanted to be able to play those words over and over in my head.

But it wasn't working. Whatever he had mumbled to me in the heat of the moment was nothing but white noise.

Falling back on the bed, I hugged the two articles of clothing into my chest. My towel loosened, dropping to my sides and leaving me bare. I felt my nipples harden as a wintry draft trickled in from between the log walls.

The door was shut and the room was beginning to chill as the heat from the fire no longer reached inside.

Pushing myself up, my body still felt achy, but it had subsided, easing up on my muscles and making my movements smoother. Slipping the over-sized t-shirt over my head, the cotton fell loosely around my frame. He was right, it didn't fit at all, not even close.

But I didn't mind. There was comfort around my body, hugging me like he had the day he saved me. I could feel the ghostly memory of his arms as the shirt touched my back, my legs, my belly.

I tried to put on the shorts, but no matter how much I rolled them, all they did was fall off my hips. So I gave up, kicking them into the corner and tucking myself into the shirt. The weight of the day pressed down, trying to suck me into its depressive hole.

Sara. . . I hope she's okay.

She's fine, Vera, you know she is. There's nothing you can do right now anyway, so there's no point in worrying about it.

I wasn't going to brood about it anymore, I had a plan, I knew what I was going to do. Tomorrow I would convince Pax to help me, I planned on forcing him to take me to the place he scooped me up from.

There had to be something there for me to find, some sort of clue as to what happened or where Sara was. People don't just disappear, I didn't just get lost and then found by this mountain man.

Humanity in general, had a bad habit of leaving behind traces of their existence, I was positive that it would be true with this too.

My purse wasn't with me, my phone was gone, I had none of the things I always carried. Pax had said he found me laying in a bush, but that I was the only thing that was there.

So where did everything else go? I tried to convince myself that there was a chance I left my purse in Sara's car, but my phone would have been in my pocket, and it wasn't.

The questions were killing me, having nothing to go on but a few meager memories was hard to swallow. I needed answers, I deserved answers.

I wanted to believe deep down that there was a logical explanation, a valid reason for what had happened that could easily explain it all away.

There's always a silver lining, always.

That was my father's line, it was his life motto. When I found out he had cancer, it was devastating. I couldn't imagine my life without him, I couldn't imagine not having him to call when I had a question or when I needed backup in an argument with my mom.

But he would throw out his line, 'Vera, there's always a silver lining, you just have to look for it.'

For years I questioned that saying—actually, I hated it. I couldn't understand where the silver lining was when he passed or how I could ever find good in his absence.

I was still looking for that answer, still trying to find the one thing that gave his death purpose. And even though I hadn't found it yet, I never planned on giving up my search for it.

If he could speak to me right then, there was no doubt in my mind he would tell me it was out there, that I just had to let it come to me. He would tell me that even the smallest thing could be seen as good, despite the greatness of whatever hell I was in.

If a huge fire came in and wiped out an entire forest, but a single butterfly made it through the ashes to live another day, he would see those wings as pure silver.

My father was a great man; he was grounded, he was strong, he had the words I could listen to when I needed answers.

Maybe. . . Maybe this is the same.

Getting all the answers wasn't going to happen right away, I had to be patient, I had to wait until the answers found me. Trying to force them out did nothing, racking my brain only made it hurt.

That didn't mean I wasn't going to look for them, it just meant that despite the effort I put in, I might not find what I was looking for just yet. But when I deserved the answer or when the time was right, it would come to me.

There was no point in working myself up when I couldn't remember shit anyway. But it would come, just like the quick glimpse I got from smelling Pax's shirt and the car ride when I smelt the smoke in my hair.

I just had to be patient.

Sliding under the flannel blanket, I pulled it up to my neck and closed my eyes. The glowing lamp by the bed created a red burst of light behind my lids, but I didn't care.

I didn't want the darkness, I wasn't ready for that yet. Four days of my life were already blackened like tar, I was more than happy to embrace that bit of color as I slept.

* * *

A thin crust had sealed my lids shut, crackling away as my lashes peeled apart. Scrubbing my eyes, I opened them wide, raking my nails down my face as I yawned.

Glancing around, the room was painted in gray shadows, the lamp, now a subtle glow inside the glass, hummed like a mosquito in my ear.

Rolling onto my side, I stared into the yellow light, watching it dissolve as the oil dried and the small white bag shriveled up like a raisin.

A clank of pots and pans echoed from in the kitchen, forcing me to lift my head up. Stretching my arms back and forth across my chest, I tried to work out the tightened muscles. Everything felt bound and cramped, strained and rigid.

I thought resting was suppose to make you feel better, not worse.

Another loud bang bounced off the walls outside the door, followed by a labored grunt from Pax. Twisting my body to dangle my legs over the edge of the bed, the ice cold floor tickled my toes.

What the hell is he doing out there?

Walking to the door, I buried my arms around my ribs as the sheer weight of the brisk air in the room forced goosebumps all over my skin. Stopping short, I turned and snatched the blanket off the bed, draping it over my shoulders and coiling it around my torso.

I wasn't used to the lack of internal heat or lights. I had the urge to flip a switch, but nothing was there. I had the desire to reach for the thermostat, but the warmth here was fed by logs.

Pax lived in a simple world, one that was missing all the necessities my existence had come to rely on. He had water, he had the basic creature comforts of home. But the intricate life of technology and ease of machinery was nonexistent.

The shower was hot, how did that work?

I let the question linger for a moment, tucking it away to ask him about later.

The handle on the door felt like solid ice as I pulled it open and stepped out into a wave of heat. The fire danced inside its basin as long wispy tendrils of flames whipped around inside, creating a sea of red and orange swells.

“Morning.” His gruff voice scratched out from his throat, his face was turned away from me, hovering over the counter.

“How did you know I was standing here?”

Cocking his head over his shoulder, his eyes floated around my body, then went back to whatever he was doing. “I'm always aware, Vera, especially now.” His arms moved up and down, the sound of metal on glass drifted between us.

“What are you doing?” I asked, moving closer to the fire and holding my hands out to wave the heat into my fabric cocoon.

“Well. . .” Pausing, his elbow lifted high, slamming down with a loud smack. “You need breakfast, right?”

Staring into the ashes glowing beneath the wild inferno, I fanned my fingers wider. “I suppose breakfast would be good.”

Twisting around, he held out a small bowl filled with a medley of chopped berries and vegetables. “Then we have work to do.”

“Do you want me to help you cook? I can make a few things, pancakes, waffles, eggs—”

Cutting me off, he flipped the food inside the bowl. “No, not cook, you're going to help me catch.”

I felt my face lose all elasticity as it fell flat. “What?”

A smug grin amused his lips as he inched his way closer. “Does it look like there's a supermarket in my backyard? If we want to eat, we need to go out and get it.” His eyes looked darker today, more stale and cold.

Why does he look so different?

There was something about him that had changed, something that sent shivers up my spine and prickled my skin with electric sparks.

Holding up my palms, I stepped back. “Wait, I'm not understanding this. You fed me last night, you gave me soup, but now you're saying we need to go out and catch breakfast?”

Shaking his head, his eyes fixed on the bowl. “It's not hard to follow, it's a basic need to eat.” Taking another step in, his face lifted back to mine. “The soup was something I had, but it doesn't mean every meal is that easy.”

“But I see carrots in that bowl, cranberries too. You can't tell me that you never go into town?”

“I'm not saying I never have to go, but I try like hell not to.” Picking up a red, round berry from inside, he held it between two fingers. “This is a purple chokeberry.” Dropping it back in, he pulled out a chunk of white mass. “This is a wild carrot.” Popping it into his mouth, I watched his jaw work to break it down. “There's a lot you gotta learn if you're going to stay here. Today's lesson. . . Nothing comes free.”

What the fuck is he talking about?

I couldn't understand what the hell he was doing. He had claimed I needed rest, that I needed to get healthier and stronger before I could do anything else.

How was foraging in the wilderness and catching prey a restful activity?

And staying here. . . No.

I wasn't staying for any longer than I needed to. I wanted to go home, I wanted to be back in my room with its forced hot air and thick, cozy comforter. I was already feeling a little better after getting up and moving around, I had no doubt that tomorrow would be even better.

“I don't plan on being here long, I have a life to get back to. And I thought you said I wasn't strong enough yet do anything?” Wrapping the blanket tighter around my shoulders, I clamped the two ends together in front of my chest. “How does this help me get better?”

Pax joggled his head on his neck, eyes rolling around in his skull. “I changed my mind. You were a lot stronger yesterday than I thought you'd be, so the rules have changed.”

Chuckling under my breath, I smiled playfully. “You can't do that.”

A devious grin filled his face as his lips arched high and his eyes lowered to half mast. “Yes, I can, and I did.” Taking a big step in, his toes pressed mine.

He was so close I could smell him, and that fucking scent did things to my body that should be illegal. My chest squeezed down on my heart, forcing it into a secession of rapid beats, my muscles tensed up and shivered beneath the surface, cooling my skin but sending fire into my core.

Pax looked down on me, his eyes slowly devouring me as I stood still, unable to back up, unable to turn and run; he had me cornered.

Did he plan this? Did he want to trap me against the wall so I couldn't get away?

Straightening my shoulders, I peeled them off the wood, trying to look confident and in control. But I wasn't even close. My brain had turned into a fumbling mess of rolling wheels, all of them trying to go in opposite directions.

Biting his lower lip, his eyes twinkled in delight. “You've got a lot to learn, Angel.”

Cocking my jaw to the side, I lifted my chin higher. “If you want to show me something, take me to where you found me, help me find my friend so I can go home.”

A sinister laugh rolled over my cheeks as he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “Baby steps, Vera, baby steps. First you need to pay back what I gave you.” Dropping the bowl into my hands, he started in the direction of his room. “Get dressed, we have work to do.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Throwing my hands up, my ribs expanded and cracked in pain as I took in a mouth full of air. “I didn't ask you to help me.”

“You're right, you didn't.” Tipping his head up, Pax looked at me over his shoulder, licking his teeth with his tongue. “But that doesn't mean you don't owe me for what I did do.”

“That's not fair.”

“This isn't a game, I make the rules here, I decide what happens and what I want.” Taking a slow step, his stride lengthened, his steps heavy and determined.

He was so different from the man I had met the day before, his body was rigid, his face stoic and animated at the same time.

But it was his voice, his words, that were sucking the air out of the room. I needed an out, a way to make it so I couldn't play his little game.

“I don't even have any clean clothes. What am I supposed to do, go out like this?” Fanning the blanket open like a set of wings, I looked down at my body. “This isn't going to work, Pax.”

His arm lashed out, pointing to the table on the side of the couch. Following his finger, I spotted a small stack of clean clothing, folded neatly. Everything I needed was there; pants, shirt, shoes, socks, everything.

I stood frozen in place, hugging a bowl of wild edibles, and stunned.

He doesn't really expect me to hunt, does he?

Why is he making me earn my keep by killing another living creature?

How does that help me?

I wanted to scream at him that I wasn't going to kill anything. Fuck, I'd be happy just eating the crap in the bowl he gave me. What was he trying to prove by forcing me to hunt in his woods?

My mind was made up, I wasn't going to do it. I would follow him where he went, I would nod and listen to what he had to say.

But I was not going to kill anything.

Pax wanted me to earn my keep, he was treating my life like a bartering chip, using the air I was breathing as a debt to him. My chest began to surge with heavy breaths, my heart thudded insanely fast with anger and pain.

It was me—my life—that's what he wanted repayment for. Suddenly all his help changed from chivalrous and awe-inspiring into a sick, disgusting joke.

I thought he had cared for me in some way, that his desire to keep me alive was bound to him by the graces from above. I was lulled into the safety net of a mad man, a mad man who was willing to trade my suffering and pain for a meal.

There was nothing sweet or kind about taking a girl who was still healing out into the woods and making her catch her own food.

There was nothing sweet or kind about demanding a girl to repay you for doing the right thing and saving her life.

Maybe he isn't as sweet as I thought.