The quiet was great for reflection. Not so great if the last thing you wanted to do was think about how you may have just made the second biggest mistake of your life. Jake was my enemy, and my rashness may have just alienated him completely. Why did I keep forgetting my composure with him, forgetting that he was a dangerous, evil man—my kidnapper?

I glanced down at the zipper and then away. To think that I had been ready to…

I stood up and walked to the door. It didn’t matter now. There was no point in beating myself up about it, though there was definitely something to be said for trying to get out of there.

I put my bound hands on the doorknob and pulled. Gazing out into the endless forest before me, I started walking.

Even if Jake was right and there was no getting out of there, I could at least enjoy a nice walk. Anything was better than that cabin, stifled with the day’s events and my own strange reactions.

I had only been walking for a few minutes, and already my head was quieter, calmer. The air was liquid clarity, while the trees provided shade from everything I didn’t want to think about. The birds celebrated my arrival with sweet songs, and a toad started accompanying me after a few minutes.

It was fat, forest green, and determined, hopping at a constant pace until it reached me, stopping whenever I did, and ribbiting every so often as if to remind me he was there.

I dubbed him Gerald and enjoyed his loyal presence. It was a good thing Randolph wasn’t here. I could see it now, his eyes bulged out of his head, his floppy ears standing straight up, his buck teeth bared even more. He’d gallop after poor little Gerald, all barks and scampering and no actual catching. I didn’t think Randolph had caught any creature—cat, mouse, squirrel—in his entire life. And yet that had never stopped him from trying.

I stopped and sat down on a big log, the moss on which provided a nice cushion for my butt.

What was Randolph doing now? How was he? Was he curled into that sad little ball of fluff he assumed whenever I hadn’t paid attention to him for over an hour? Were he and Papa curled together into one sad ring of sorrow? What was Paul doing? Was Cynthia horrified or pissed off? Lux was probably canvasing the streets at this very moment, as she’d always been an activist.

How would it be to go back? Would I ever go back?

I stared into the trees, and Gerald hopped up beside me.

My present circumstances were so unbelievable that I couldn’t picture my homecoming at all. I didn’t know if Papa would cry tears of joy or curse and swear that he would find the man who had done this and punish him. And would Paul demand we be married within the week or agree that maybe some more time would be a good idea?

I stared into the pine trees, watched the wind wiggle every little pine needle, and thought that maybe this, all of this, wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Even being here, now, I felt different. Good. Good like I hadn’t felt in ages. Maybe it had just been too long since I’d been in nature. Or maybe this kidnapping, as terrifying and dangerous as it was, had provided just the break I needed to think about things, to think about everything.

Gerald let out a hearty ribbit, and I glanced down at him. For some reason, I was reminded of Paul. Of how, as he had proposed to me on Mizuna’s lit-up patio, as I’d looked down on the man asking to be my husband, instead of feeling joy, excitement, or bliss, I’d only thought of how it all seemed like a movie scene. Paul had gotten the proposing thing down to a science: the beautiful, big shining ring, the speech about my great qualities (which I hadn’t even been sure I’d had), and the sparkle of tears in his eyes.

Donna, my therapist, always hinted that my lack of belief in Paul, in anyone, stemmed from a lack of belief in myself. That I was “emotionally unavailable” and that any suspicion about this faultless specimen of a man should be questioned.

The little woman with the big moon spectacles had never said anything of the sort outright, of course. But it was always the impression I was left with as I shuffled out of there, tired and no closer to solving anything than I had been before. But solving things had never really been the point.

No, after Mama’s death, Papa’s orders had been to “go to a therapist.” And, after a swath of nothing-faced bobble heads who fired off statements disguised as questions and let my problems run over them as smooth as milk, by the time I got to statements-as-questions, uncaring-about-problems Donna, I had just been tired of the whole merry-go-round of it all. I had just wanted Papa to be happy, whether Donna was actually helping me or not.

I grinned at Gerald.

“Wonder what Donna would think of all this?”

He gave another enthusiastic ribbit, and I laughed.

Yes, “Stockholm syndrome,” Donna would say as the reason for me being attracted to the dangerous, cruel man who’d kidnapped me. Or the fact that I hadn’t had sex in weeks. Paul had been sick, busy, distant. For my part, I hadn’t pushed him; I had been so nervous about the wedding, I wasn’t sure I could have done much more than give him some lukewarm kisses.

Still, there was no denying the effect Jake had on me. Even now, just thinking about that ripped and tattooed chest, those forest green eyes, that military-short hair, I was getting excited. Yes, I wanted him; there was no doubt about that.

With one final ribbit, Gerald began hopping back the way I’d come. I followed him. If I wanted to get out of this crazy situation alive, then my desire for Jake would have to stay unfulfilled.

The walk back to the cabin was even nicer. By now, my mind was quiet enough to notice the patterns of sunlight on the dirt and grass I passed over, the reassuring aroma of pine that enveloped everything, and the little chickadees and robins that peered at me from high tree branches.

When the cabin was back in sight, I was almost smiling.

Incredibly enough, Gerald was still hopping along with me, and he continued to do so all the way up the stairs. I smiled at the impertinent little green thing, only at the last second noticing the big black boot coming into view.

“Where were you?” Jake snapped as his boot descended on Gerald.

“Watch out!” I cried.

But it was too late; Gerald hadn’t jumped out of the way in time, and he was now trapped, struggling, under Jake’s huge boot.

“What the hell?” Jake demanded as I shoved him.

“Your boot! You stepped on a toad! Move your boot!”

“Oh.”

Jake paused, peered down, and lifted his boot.

Gerald thrashed in vain, one of his legs pancaked and immobile.

“Shit. I wasn’t looking,” Jake said softly, leaning down as I did.

I reached out, remembering my bound hands at the last minute.

“Here, I’ll get him,” Jake said, scooping up Gerald in his huge hand.

As he was lifted, Gerald let out a reproachful ribbit, and Jake shook his head.

“I know, buddy, but it was an accident. I’m sorry.”

As he walked up the steps, he continued. “Now don’t you worry. I’ve got just the place for you to heal.”

At the door he paused. Turning around, he addressed my open-mouthed face. “You coming?”

I followed him inside without a word and went to sit on the couch. There was no way Jake was serious. This had to be some sort of trick.

But then Jake disappeared upstairs, and a minute or so later he returned with a giant tank, in which, gazing out at me dismally, was Gerald. After setting the huge tank on the counter, Jake was all business.

“We’ll have to find some stones and dirt to put inside. I remember learning something about terrariums in class when I was a kid. Then some water and our little toad friend should be good to go.”

He paused and caught my eye.

“What?”

“Just…why do you care?”

Jake shrugged and, grabbing a plastic bag from a drawer, headed for the door.

“Dunno. I’ve just always liked animals I guess.”

After opening the door, he turned to me. “You coming?”

When I followed him outside, I had to stop only a few feet out the door as Jake paused.

“Pip!” he called. “Pip!”

A few seconds later, a wolf came running up to us.

I made for the door but had trouble opening it with my hands bound.

A hand was patting my shoulder. I turned to see Jake grinning at my fear.

“Don’t you worry, princess. Pip’s a wolfdog. She’s half husky and loves new friends.”

As if eager to prove the truth of her owner’s words, Pip covered my bound hands in exuberant licks.

“So…she’s yours?” I asked, casting a curious look over at Jake, who was watching the scene with obvious pleasure.

“Yeah. I found her out in the woods all abandoned, kinda like me. We’ve gotten along ever since. She lives in the forest but comes to visit every day, and sometimes she sleeps in the cabin, too.”

“Huh,” I said, patting her gray head.

“What?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I just expected—”

“That being a kidnapper I’d be a vicious, animal-hating baby killer?”

Even I couldn’t help but laugh at that one.

“No. Well…not exactly.”

Jake’s hand went beside mine, patting the lolling-tongued dog.

“Told you, princess. There’s a whole lot you don’t know about me.”

There was something sad in the way he said it, but a few seconds later he started walking into the forest the way I’d gone, saying, “You ready to start looking?”

I followed a bit slowly.

“And what if I’m not?”

As Pip galloped ahead, Jake paused until I was beside him. Then, patting my cheek again and staring into my eyes, he said, “Now, princess, don’t pretend that you don’t like spending time with me.”

I glared at his taunting smirk, but next thing I knew, he was jogging after Pip.

“Careful not to get lost!” he called.

Still, I didn’t speed up. I was a bit tired from the long walk I’d just taken, and I wasn’t about to wear myself out by getting lost in some strange forest.

A few minutes later, Jake was back, showing me the contents of his plastic bag.

“Got soil, some twigs, and leaves. What about you?”

I lifted my hands to show him what I’d managed to grasp between them.

“A nice big rock.”

Jake chuckled.

“Yeah. I forgot the whole ‘your hands being bound’ thing.”

I didn’t say anything. With his pointer finger, he tapped the end of my nose.

“Oh, come on, princess, lighten up.”

I turned away.

“Well, it hurts.”

Jake’s eyebrows crinkled together.

“Oh shit, really?”

He took my hands in his arms and moved the rope to see the angry red welts underneath.

“I didn’t think you were being serious…”

I ripped my hands out of his grasp, wincing at the pain the sudden movement caused.

“What difference does it make anyway? You aren’t going to release me.”

Jake said nothing and didn’t move as I flopped down to sit on the ground. It was too tiring to stand, and maybe he would go away for a bit if I sat down.

He didn’t say anything, only crouched down beside me and, his mouth at my ear, said softly, “You know, it isn’t easy seeing you in pain like this.”

I said nothing, keeping my gaze on the smooth rock in my palm.

There was no point in looking over at him, in hoping. Jake had said it himself: “Orders are orders.”

He placed his hand on mine and, with his other, produced a pair of shears.

With one swift cut, my hands were free.

My hands shook as they were released. Hardly able to believe what I was seeing, I turned to him.

After a few seconds of shocked staring, the words tumbled out of me.

“Thank you.”

Jake turned away.

“Don’t thank me; it’s only common decency. This job is turning out to be a lot more than I bargained for.”

I stopped myself before I said “me too.”

A few minutes later, our search completed successfully, the three of us returned the way we had come. Pip trotted on ahead, Jake close behind, and then, last of all, came me.

My hands, newly freed, were precious. I let them run over the trunks of trees and pine branches, felt the smoothness of hanging leaves. My feet were similarly pleased. I skipped; I hopped; I jumped; I ran. Jake shot a few guilty yet pleased looks over his shoulder at me.

By the time we got back, Pip was howling victoriously at the door. Jake gave her an affectionate head rub as he opened it.

As I walked in, Pip turned her attention to me and jumped up on my chest, her excited bulk overwhelming and a bit scary.

Seeing me freeze up, Jake pulled Pip away.

“Calm down, girl. Alice has had a hard day as it is. She doesn’t know that you’re a big old softie who couldn’t harm a fly, or that people just get the wrong idea about you and keep it.”

Something in his face as he said it made me think that Pip wasn’t the only one Jake was talking about.

Once I settled onto the couch, Pip hopped up beside me. Jake busied himself with emptying the contents of the plastic bag into the corner of the tank.

“Want help?” I asked.

He shook his head.

“Nah. I’m the reason our toad friend is hurt, so I want to do this myself.”

After a few more seconds, he added, “And I wouldn’t put it past you to slam my face into this tank here when I’m not looking.”

“Really?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Yeah. Something tells me there’s a bit more to you than meets the eye, princess. I mean, you said it yourself.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?” I said after a beat of silence. “And not just in a joking way.”

His back to me, Jake shrugged.

“You don’t trust people, do you?” I asked softly.

His shoulders stiffened. Silence.

“No. I can’t say that I do,” he finally said after a minute. “I can’t say they’ve given me much reason to.”

I fell silent, patting Pip’s fluffy head and feeling a strange, misplaced sense of guilt for the tensed back of this closed-off man.

After a few minutes, Jake bustled over, tank in hand.

“Whaddya think?”

I took in the setup: the impressive mountain of dirt with its covering of twigs, sticks, and leaves and its still fairly dismal-looking occupant, Gerald, gazing out at me.

“Well, it’s…”

“I’m a toad killer, I know,” Jake said despondently.

His face fell. Pip let out a little yip, and a grin slid onto Jake’s face.

“Yes, of course! We still need the water!”

And then he was gone, over at the sink filling the tank with a low level of water.

He returned with a broad grin, and just as I was about to speak, he held up his hand. “Last we need the finishing touch—rock, please.”

I held out my hand and opened it. Jake grasped the smooth thing eagerly and plopped it down inside.

Then, putting it on the ground in front of us, he dropped onto the couch next to me.

“There,” he said, sinking deeper into the maroon cushion as his eyes closed in content.

His leg was touching mine, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, he didn’t seem to care.

After a few seconds, he jumped up and grasped my hand.

“Hey, look!”

I scrambled up and crouched down beside him to see Gerald swimming eagerly in the water. His hurt leg jerked out unnaturally, but he was gliding from one end of the tank to the other nonetheless.

“Looks like he likes it,” I said.

Jake squeezed my hand. As I extricated it, he released his hold.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” I said, averting my gaze and returning to the couch.

He sat next to me and shot me a sidelong look.

“You’re blushing.”

“Can you please just leave me alone for a second?” I burst out.

Jake’s face transformed before my eyes. The almost childlike look of giddiness was wiped away by a furious snarl.

Storming off, over his shoulder Jake sardonically said, “Whatever you say, princess.”

Pip and I sat there looking at each other, wondering just what I’d done and, worse still, just what I’d gotten myself into.