Promise me you’ll love again.
It’s her promise that keeps me with Jaxon and the rest of the crew. That’s it. I’ve surrounded myself with people I care about, that counts. Promises have loopholes when you figure out the person asking for it isn’t specific.
While I keep that in the forefront of my mind, I know it isn’t right. In my heart, I know exactly what Annabeth meant when she made me promise. The thought of someone else next to me, in my bed, having my kids, kissing her, making love to her, it doesn’t feel right. Annabeth was that once in a lifetime kind of love for me. I wasn’t a good man when I met her. I was stealing cars and hustling drugs on the streets when I ran into her.
&
nbsp; She found me.
She wanted Adderall. Out of all the hard drugs I carried, she wanted something I didn’t have on me because that shit was for beginners. She came to me every day after that. Hair done up, tight jeans, shapely blouse, and she’d turn heads. She came to the wrong side of town for me, and eventually she asked me out.
Me. The man who was discharged from the military two years early because I was a POW and was fucked in the head after becoming a civilian again. I couldn’t really get a job, so selling drugs was quick, easy, and damn good cash.
This college trust-fund girl wanting something to do with me blew my mind, and when I asked why she said, “Something about you makes me believe.”
“In what?” I asked.
“I don’t know yet, but when I do, you’ll be the first I tell.”
The rest was history.
She never told me what she believed in, but she didn’t have to. Her love was enough. Fucking hell, I can’t wait for these two days to be over. I’m tired of my chest burning and feeling like a broken down little crybaby bitch. Hunting was supposed to make me feel better, but all I want to do is curl up in my bed like a brokenhearted teenage girl.
Jesus, listen to me, I’m too far gone.
Not even the woods can help me.
I turn the deer over again, so it cooks evenly and head down toward the river to clean up. I shuck off my shirt and toss it on my shoulder, letting the cool spring day wrap around my sweaty body. I inhale the musk of the dirt, the moisture in the air, and the smoke wafting from the deer.
When a familiar large oak tree comes to view, the branches dancing and intertwine around another, I hang right. Moss has grown steadily over the ash-colored bark, and the tree looks like it has aged ten years since the last time I was here. It’s beautiful. I squat beside a fake bush and search for the button.
The problem is the button is one of the damn leaves, and there are a hundred leaves on this thing. I don’t know what Jaxon was thinking putting something this goddamn fancy out here for me. A lock and key would have sufficed. I hear a click and sigh in relief. I grab the plastic bush by its spine and lift. Dirt and leaves fall off the square door, and a motion light comes on showing me shelves of food, plain clothes like sweatpants, jeans, shirts, and hoodies. There are blankets and even a cot.
If I want, I can sleep down here, but what’s the point of being in the woods if you’re comfortable? There isn’t a point.
But I might take that blanket… Blankets are nice.
I grab a bar of soap and a towel, knowing it’s more than most when people go camping, but Jaxon installed this tiny bunker for me, and I need to use it. I’d be a bad friend if I didn’t. Yeah, a really bad friend.
I make my way out and climb the steps toward the real world again, closing the bunker behind me by putting the bush in its place. I give the oak tree an appreciative tap and head North toward the river. It’s only a few yards away.
The water is rippling from the flow of the current, and the sound is peaceful, relaxing, and the sun is covered by a veil of gray clouds. It’s the perfect day. I undress, leaving my dirty clothes on the shore. I take a whiff of the bar of soap in my hand and smell pine. I’m waist deep in the river, shivering from how cold it is, and dip my head under.
I give myself a quick scrub, getting the blood, sweat, and grime off me before swimming back to shore and grabbing my dirty clothes to hand wash them. They won’t be perfect, but it’s better than nothing. I dip them underwater, wringing them out before scrubbing them with the soap.
A large hawk flies above me, cawing, wings spread wide and casting a shadow along the surface of the river. I follow the large bird, watching it dip and swirl, diving through the air before twirling higher in the sky. The hawk disappears in the woods on the other side of the river. I drag my eyes down the shoreline when I see something prone laying on the ground. I can’t tell what it is, but it’s bigger than most animals in these woods.
“What do we have here?” I ask myself as I walk through the water. A fish swims by my ankle, and the slick scales rub against my skin causing me to jump. “Shit, I hate it when you fuckers do that.” There’s nothing worse than something that I can't see touching me. The water gives as I trudge through it, and the riverbed becomes shallower, allowing me to get a better look at what’s laying on the ground. My toes dip into the wet sand, and it reminds me of thick silk sliding between my toes.
I still can’t get a good look. It’s probably nothing.
Lifting my leg up, I step onto dry sand that coats my foot as I climb up the embankment. “Son of a bitch, this better be—” My thoughts come to an abrupt halt when I see what’s laying there. Not what, who. I climb up the shelved wall and squat next to her. “Jesus Christ, what happened to you, girl?” I say, horrified at what I’m seeing. She has scars all over her body, new cuts, bruises, and fucking hell, she’s skin and bone. I can see the rivets of her spine.
Immediately, I flip her over and check for a pulse. I exhale when I find one. “Oh, that’s a relief.” I really didn’t feel like burying a body today. I’m glad she’s alive too, there’s that. I’m not a complete asshole. “What happened to you?” I push her hair out of her face to get a better look at her, and I gasp, swallowing the surprise in my throat when I see how beautiful she is.
Who the hell would want to hurt her? That’s what I want to know.
“I got you. You’re safe now, okay? You’re safe.” I lift her into my arms as gently as I can. I’m afraid any sort of pressure is going to break a bone or leave another bruise. I do my best not to look at her body and keep my eyes straight ahead. She deserves privacy because it hasn't been given to her from the looks of it.