Wanderlust

His face was implacable. No.

Miserable, humiliated, I squatted down and sent a warm stream of liquid into the earth. He handed me a wipe from his pocket. After cleaning myself, I clutched it awkwardly.

“You can leave it on the ground. Those are biodegradable.”

Oh great, an eco-conscious kidnapper. I tossed the wipe against the base of a tree and then realized his hand had left my shoulder at some point. We weren’t touching at all, and suddenly, the air between seemed like a question—will you run? I stood still, indecisive. I knew I wouldn’t get away like this. I could never run fast enough or fight him off. It was a question of obedience.

“You surprised me yesterday, being such a good girl,” he said, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t stop now.”

For a minute, I was distracted from his words. Yesterday? It seemed like only hours had passed. I was losing time here. That was somehow scarier than anything he had done to me. I had lost enough time trapped in my mother’s house. I couldn’t afford to give away any more. I hoped he wouldn’t drug me again. It occurred to me that he might not, if he thought I wouldn’t run. That was when I registered what he had said about being pleased with me. And he hadn’t led me to the back of the truck, but to the cab.

I stumbled out of the leaves-strewn ground, allowing myself to be tugged toward the road. Suddenly he stopped, and I ran right into his side. He yanked at my wrist, pulling me behind him.

Startled, I peeked around him to see a large cat with black and orange stripes.

A very large cat.

“Is that…?”

“A tiger. Yeah.”

Though the size was abnormal for a regular housecat, it was the eyes that were different. Both more beautiful and colder. Crueler. A predator who was considering her attack. On the one hand, it seemed silly to worry over an animal physically smaller than us. On the other hand, I felt her ferocity in her stare, her stance, and I had no doubt she could cause either one of us considerable damage if she wanted to attack.

She hadn’t moved a single paw since we’d arrived in her clearing. Only her whiskers twitched, gathering data from the wind.

I whispered. “Should we—”

“We’re just going to walk real slow around her. She won’t attack unless she feels threatened.”

“Right, but—“

“Just move. Nice and easy.”

We shuffled around her. In a shocking act of chivalry, Hunter was careful to always stay between the cat and my body.

When we’d made it to the other side, I quickened my step and snapped a twig. The cat’s ears flicked. She lowered her head.

“Easy,” he said sharply. Then softer, “Go easy. Nice and slow all the way back.”

We shuffled in a sort of dance back into the rest stop where the truck was parked, continuing to move slowly and keep facing the woods until we reached the cab.

He opened the passenger door, and instead of waiting for me to climb in the tall steps, practically threw me inside. He circled the truck and got in.

“Shit,” he said.

I swallowed. “She was gorgeous.”

“Yeah. Good thing I didn’t have to kill her.”

My face scrunched up. “Could you have? I mean, if she had attacked?”

“A tiger’s pretty vicious when they want to be, even a little undergrown thing like that one. But a gun is better.”

I gasped, eyeing him up and down. “Where?”

“My boot. Don’t leave home without it.”