Emma
I yawn and rally my brain cells into action. My body feels like it’s filled with lead, and my joints are slow to come to life.
How long did I sleep?
Another yawn escapes me. I stretch, catlike, to get myself moving. So much is happening in such a short amount of time. Millions of questions are buzzing around my head, and I’m entitled to some answers.
I don’t think that’s too much to ask, particularly when a bear-man walks into your blazing apartment and whisks you out of bed, taking you to some far-off mountain cabin, hut, or whatever the fuck this is.
So far, I’ve not been given the grand tour. Still, I can tell it’s not a New York penthouse we’re hiding in, or an executive suite in Vegas.
Wherever we are, I’ve got to get away ASAP. An hour or two ago would’ve been good, last night would’ve been even better.
I sigh and swing my legs over the side of the bed. It’s about time I find the bear-man and ask him some of these questions. They’re still buzzing around my head like crazy, even more annoying than flies in the summertime.
A girl is entitled to answers, and I resolve to get them.
It takes me a few minutes to get my bearings. As I look around, my insides feel as if an icy wind is blowing through me. The reality of the situation is sinking in.
“How is this real?” I ask no one in particular, because I don’t think anyone could answer that buzzing question.
I go through the surreal series of events in my head. Some crazy man kidnaps me from my luxurious lifestyle and deluxe penthouse apartment, telling me my place was on fire, and he happened to come along at just the right moment to rescue me and take me to some remote mountain cabin.
I stop mid-step.
What the fuck am I doing?
My heart starts to race in my chest, and it sounds like waves are crashing in my ears.
I’m walking right into this dude’s trap. People are after me? My ass they are.
This crazy bear-man’s either in cahoots with these crazy idiots, or there is no them, only him.
The icy feeling spreads. It’s as if long, frozen fingers are raking through me. They touch everything, each and every one of my pores and cells. Everything they stroke turns icy cold.
The world shakes a little bit and goes fuzzy. It’s as if the focus of my eyes needs to be adjusted.
Pull yourself together, girlfriend.
I hear my friend Amanda’s words in my mind. I haven’t seen Amanda in a while, but once, a long time ago, she was a good friend. She disappeared from my life, just like Dylan.
Of course, Amanda’s reason for leaving me was different than Dylan’s—whatever his was. Amanda’s working for some charity, traveling to different poor, remote villages in developing countries.
She’s not reachable by the usual means of email or mobile phone. The only time we ever catch up is when she graces my world with her presence, which, as far I’m concerned, isn’t often enough.
Dylan is a different kettle of fish.
Dylan.
There I go, thinking of Dylan again.
Man, oh man. I must really get this guy out of my fucking head.
The minute I get back home I need to find a good therapist for this shit. I’ve avoided seeing someone about it so far, and even though I’ve been managing fine, it might be time to put skeletons to bed.
I mean, if I can’t even go a minute without thinking of the prick, even here in the middle of nowhere, it’s still pretty freaking bad. I’ve tried to do it on my own, but it’s time to face facts: if I want to get that prick out of my head, I’ll need help.
I wonder how I can find a good therapist? There must be someone I know who can give me a recommendation.
Fuck it, I need to stop thinking about this shit. I need to focus on the here and now and try to find out what the hell is going on.
It’s so quiet here. I listen for any signs of the man-bear, or any signs of anything, really, but there’s only silence.
Where is the crazy man-bear person this morning, anyway?
There’s that fear again. Maybe he’s behind me? I spin around, suddenly convinced I can hear breathing.
There’s nothing there.
Emma, I tell myself, take a deep breath and stay calm.
Okay, so this man-bear creature who’s holding me captive could be the same man who set fire to my apartment.
He could be some psychopathic killer, or⸺
I need to stop my thoughts from going any further along this gruesome path. It’s bad enough I’m in this mountain cabin, in the middle of nowhere. I don’t need to imagine some horror movie scenario on top of that.
But, fuck, I can’t help it. I catch a glimpse of the flurrying snow outside, and the sight makes me shiver.
Okay, I’m all alone out here, in some cabin, with no one but a bear-man for company. What if he’s planning to tie me up and beat me to death?
Pain shoots through me at the mere thought. I rub my wrists—I can almost feel the ties there already.
Or worse, maybe he doesn’t want to kill me at all. Maybe he wants to use me as a sex toy.
My imagination is now in total fucking overdrive, going down the worst possible scenarios.
Stop it, I tell myself. You’re being ridiculous.
I take a deep breath and creep along the floorboards. They’re well-oiled and don’t make the usual creaking noise one expects of old floors.
I reach the end of the hallway and peer around the corner.
If I come face to face with the Grizzly⸺my nickname for the crazed man who’s kidnapped me⸺I need to make sure he isn’t armed.
My heart’s beating so fast I fear I might pass out.
From what I can see from where I’m standing, I don’t think anyone’s in the kitchen. I edge forward on my tiptoes, taking my time. My muscles are poised for flight.
If he comes at me with any kind of weapon, I’m going to kick him in the balls and run for it. I’d rather take my chances with the snow than a crazed psychopath.
Of course, there’s no evidence whatso-fucking-ever he’s what I imagine him to be, but I still need to tread with caution.
My eyes dart around the room, eventually fixing on the teapot on the bench. I walk over and grab a cup from the sink.
I’m thirsty. To be honest, I’m hungry too. But I don’t want to rummage around here too much in case it makes Grizzly mad.
The tea is still lukewarm, and I cradle the cup in my hand, staring out the window onto white, white, and more white. As far as the eye can see, there’s nothing but fucking white.
If I hoped for a friendly neighbor to come and visit, finding me held hostage and coming to my rescue, well, that’s not going to happen.
No one could possibly be out there.
No one.
I’m in the middle of fucking nowhere.
I close my eyes. Now I’m hoping this is nothing more than a realistic nightmare. If I count to ten and open my eyes again, I’ll find I’m back in bed in my luxury apartment. The silk sheets will cover me, and the alarm clock will glare at me, demanding I turn it off and get out of bed.
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
I open my eyes.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
There are no silk sheets, no annoyed alarm clock. There’s just a window covered in icicles and snow as far as the eye can see.
So I don’t burst into tears. I turn away from the window. All that nature and vastness depresses me.
Okay. Let’s try and approach this in a calm manner. Maybe Grizzly’s not a psychopath and does have good intentions.
I mean, if he were one of those mad men, surely he wouldn’t have left me to roam around the cabin. Surely, he would’ve tied my up by now or something.
What’s more, I didn’t sense evil in the man. He looked so wild, so untamed, yet there was something so familiar about him it’s driving me up the wall.
I mean, just look at him. He’s hairy, I mean really fucking hairy, and he’s manly and sexy and looks like a grizzly.
He’s nothing like the men I know. My admirers, of which there are plenty, are tall, thin, wear designer suits and shave twice a day.
Brad, who I dated for about a microsecond, was obsessed with low carb, gluten-free, dairy-free, meat-free, organic soy non-fattening water, wore Calvin Kline boxer briefs and Armani suits, and went to the gym a couple times a week. He wasn’t muscly, and his complexion was a little too milky.
All in all, Brad didn’t do it for me, sexually or intellectually. The man was a total bore was and only able to talk about himself, his golf score, and blah, blah, blah.
Dylan, on the other hand...
Stop. Don’t go down that path. Think about someone else.
My thoughts spin.
Okay, so if I compare Grizzly to Brad, a shiver runs down my spine.
I bet the man eats meat, bread, and potatoes. I also bet he’s never heard of Calvin Klein underwear or Armani suits or any designer label before.
His clothes are like from the last century, if not earlier. I’ve never seen a wardrobe so lacking in style.
Also, I bet bear-man has never set foot into a gym. I mean, there are certainly no gyms to be seen around here, and yet from the little I did get to see of him, he’s fucking sexy and has muscles upon muscles. Dude doesn’t need a gym.
With another sigh, I turn back to the window.
How am I ever going to get out of this place? I don’t want to spend another night here.
Bear-man invades my thoughts yet again.
His eyes. There’s something about those eyes.
My grandmother always believed the eyes are the windows to a person’s soul. To be honest, there was nothing mean or horrible in those chocolate eyes. I felt myself melt on the inside every time those eyes were upon me.
Maybe he’s got a map of the place? There must be a way out of here.
If the snowstorm stops soon, I could maybe just hike out of here. I mean, I got here with grizzly man, so I must be able to leave on my own.
I rub my forehead. Who the fuck am I kidding? There’s no fucking way I can get out of here on my own. I need Grizzly to help me, but somehow, I don’t think he will.
The way he looked at me, studied me, held me, I think he doesn’t want to give me up.
I don’t mean he wants to hold me here against my will. I mean he will confirm what I already know, but don’t want to admit: Right now, I just can’t leave. The weather is against me.
I sigh again.
My thoughts stay with the bear-man. When I first saw him, I thought he was a fucking bear: tall, big, hairy—so fucking hairy—and so strong.
Deep within me, a little flame flickers. There’s no doubt about it, the man does strange things to me. He leaves me confused and unable to think straight.
I hear something from the other side of the room, and I turn around.
And I shriek.
And then I realize who’s there.
“Sorry,” I mumble.
I try to slow my speeding heart rate. It’s uncanny how much he looks like a fucking bear.
And yet, as he stands there in the dark, wooden doorframe, he oozes manliness and animal magnetism. I want to walk over and run my hands down his broad chest, steel abs, and tree-trunk thighs.
I can’t explain the stirring between my legs. I haven’t felt like this in a very long time...if ever.
I hope he doesn’t see the effect he has on me. Already, my cheeks are going red. I quickly drop my gaze and study the color of the wooden floor intently.
If he had devious intentions, I might just be a willing participant⸺and this annoys the fucking hell out of me.
I can’t believe I’m even thinking like this. The sooner I get out of here the better.