My stomach stops twisting, and I can breathe when we lull into silence.
“You’ve been through some shit. I don’t know what, but something, and you’ve survived it. I want to tell you something, something I’ve never really told anyone, but maybe you’ll get a better idea of me and see if you can take a chance on someone you don’t really know.” He unscrews the top of the flask again and takes a swig.
I scoot toward the fire, feeling the warmth against my skin, and I relax. My arms wrap around my legs, and I drop my chin to my knees, wondering what he could tell me that he hasn’t told anyone. It’s been a long time since I’ve learned a secret.
I’ve always been the secret.
The flames dance in his eyes as he sips his whiskey. I want to say he doesn’t have to tell me anything, but I want to hear what he has to say.
“Twenty-two years ago, I was married.” He touches his ring finger, as if he can feel the ghost of his wedding band. “She was…” He smiles, and tears brim his eyes. “She was the love of my life. The kind of thing that only comes around once. She got me to get my head on straight, she believed in me, for some fucked up reason. She wanted me.”
That sounds nice, to be with someone you love like that. I’ve never loved anyone. I’ve only experienced hatred.
“She was pregnant when she was murdered. Some man, I never figured out who, was angry because I worked at a company that sold the medical equipment that killed his wife. Apparently, I was the salesman who sold it to the hospital. He wasn’t happy with me. So my wife called me while the guy was in the house, and I talked to him, listening to her scream. When I got to the house, a knife was embedded in her stomach, and blood was everywhere. I held her in my arms as she took her last breath. I lost her and my little girl. I told the police I killed them because I deserved it. I deserved it, not being able to protect them when they needed me most.” He lands his watery ocean gaze on mine and sighs. “I spent twenty years in jail for a crime I didn’t commit, but I deserved to be there. Still do. When I got out, a guy named Jaxon was waiting for me. Told me I would get the retribution I needed if I joined his team. I never did. Could never find the guy who killed my wife. So I’m in the woods now because it’s the anniversary of her death, and I never really know how to handle it. I lose myself. I mourn. I give myself two days before I’m a robot again. And then I wait another year and do this all over again.” He pours the remaining whiskey from the flask into his mouth and then tosses it in the tent behind him.
It doesn’t mean he’s out, though.
He digs in his bag and pulls out another bottle.
“I usually stay drunk and hunt. I have a lady present now, but I’m not sure if getting drunk is appropriate, so I won’t.” He taps his fingers against the glass of the bottle, thinking long and hard before placing it back in the bag.
I want to tell him who I am now since he shared such a horrible part of him. I’m not sure what to do. I’m afraid to speak. I wrap my fingers around the mug again and sip the water. “My name is Jolie,” I whisper through a hoarse throat and rub my neck as if it will take the gravel away. I haven’t spoken enough.
“Jolie, that’s a pretty name. It’s nice to meet you Jolie.”
I give him a small, tight smile, and debate on what I want to say next. “You too,” I manage to croak out. “Thank you, for the food, water, and clothes.” My cheeks heat when I think about the fact that he must have seen me naked. How embarrassing. My body is in no shape for anyone’s view.
“I see the look on your face. You don’t need to worry. I didn’t look when I pulled the shirt over your head and slid the pants on. You deserve the privacy. You haven’t had much of that lately, it seems.”
I shake my head. No, I haven’t, and I appreciate him giving it to me. It seems like a small thing to him, I’m sure, but it’s everything to me.
“So what do you think? Do you want to stay here out in the woods, or do you want to come back with me? Maybe I can help you find your family, and we can get you back to where you want to be,” he offers, and it sounds nice.
The further away I get from here, the better.
“You don’t have to tell me what happened to you, but I will have to call the cops, and maybe you can tell them what happened. I’m not going to pry.”
I nod. I don’t want to be out here longer than I need to be. And the last thing I want is to talk about what happened to me. I never want to talk about it again. I have to live with the nightmares. I have to live with the fact that I will never be the same person ever again. I’ll see my captor’s face, I’ll see the evil in his eyes as he hovers over me and steals what he wants.
I’ll never be able to find myself again. He took something from me I’ll never be able to take back. Dignity, pride, self-esteem, strength, and much more that I’m too tired to list.
I yawn, covering my mouth with my hand when the exhaustion I’m feeling hits me like a ton of bricks.
“How about you go in the tent and lay down? Get some sleep. I’ll be out here to keep watch. I won’t bother you. Go on.” He juts his head to point me in the direction of the tent, and I don’t want to ask where he will eventually sleep, but I’m not ready to be close to anyone. I stand, rubbing my hands up and down my arms when a cold chill wraps around me. The leaves rustle, and the water from the river rushes somewhere near us. “I’ll get you an extra blanket,” he says, standing to his full height.
I take a step away, tripping over a tree root and falling to my ass. He is gigantic. Tall, broad, muscular, the kind of man who could overpower me without issue. He scares me. My heart pounds quickly, a sledgehammer against my chest.
“Woah, hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.” He inches toward me, and I crawl backward until my back hits a tree trunk. I’m trapped. I have nowhere to go. He’s going to kill me.
He squats down and lays his elbows on his knees. He holds out his hand, but doesn’t he loom over me. He gives me space. “I swear to you, I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t you think if I wanted to hurt you, I would have already? Think about it,” he says.
He makes a point.
What if that is the entire reason for him being nice to me? What if he’s building my hopes and trust up? Just to squish me and hurt me. I need to stay on my toes, be vigilant. I have to be able to protect myself from other people.
He waits patiently and tilts his head, eyes softening around the sides as he stares at me. How can he manage to be kind while having bad intentions? I can smell the whiskey on his breath as he exhales. It burns my eyes, and the smell is spicy, like cinnamon.
“It’s my size that scares you,” he realizes. “So someone bigger than you hurt you.” His eyes dart over my face, and his lips form a tight line. “I don’t do that. I don’t hurt women. You don’t have any reason to believe me, but it’s the truth. And neither do my friends. The safest place you’ll ever be is with me and my family. That I can swear on. Come on, let’s get you up and in the tent. I won’t bother you.”