Mountain Man Rescued

“The judge gave me thirty-six years. She just blurted it out like she was ordering a hot dog at a casse-croûte. I tried to tell them about the girl who planted it on me, but they didn’t want to hear any of that. They told me that everyone uses that excuse.”

“Thirty-six years?” I hiss through gritted teeth. The tempting thought of finding that fucking judge and locking her away for thirty-six years pops into my head.

“I’ll be fifty-nine the next time I’m free.”

“No,” I say with a determined shake of my head. “I’ll keep you free. Do you trust me?”

She swallows hard before nodding her head. “I do.”

“Good. Let’s get you dry and warm, and then I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure you never step foot in that place again.”

“But how are you going to do that? There will be a manhunt with every police officer in the state looking for me when I don’t show up at the bus.”

“Then I better get moving.”

My dirt bike is flying through the forest, slipping in the thick mud as I clutch onto the duffel bag that has everything I need for my girl to be free. Rain is pouring down, drenching me.

Kennedy is at my place. I ran her a bath, gave her some dry clothes, and told her to help herself to anything in the fridge. I would have made her dinner, but I have more pressing things to worry about right now.

The bones in the bag rattle as the bike climbs uphill.

Just thinking about it makes me nauseous. It was rough, but like I said, I’d do anything for my girl.

It was getting dark when I arrived at the closest cemetery and began digging as the rain poured down. I took some bones from the corpse and reburied the casket, leaving everything just how I found it.

I’ll probably pay for that in the afterlife, but it will be worth it. I’ll pay any price to keep this girl safe.

I grit my teeth as the dirt bike cuts through the forest, rising up the steep hill. Rain slams into my face, making it hard to see. Only the shine from the full moon is lighting my path up and I nearly hit a large branch that I don’t see until the last second.

I cling onto the bag as I swerve around it, kicking up mud under my spinning tires. Kennedy’s shredded-up jumpsuit is also in the bag. I had to cover it in blood to make it seem like the wolves got to her.

My body shivers as I remember the horrible moment.

“It’s okay,” she said as she held the blade to her arm.

“I’d do it if I could,” I told her as my heart broke. “But it has to be your blood. They’ll probably test it.”

Before I could say another word, she sliced her skin and held the bleeding wound over the shredded jumpsuit until it was covered in red.

I bandaged her up and kissed her forehead as her eyes watered.

After that, I had to cut a lock of her beautiful black hair. I singed the tips and threw it into the bag as well.

It killed me to do all of that to her, but it’s the only way. We have to be thorough, no matter the cost. If we can both get through a little bit of pain in the short term, we’ll be able to spend the rest of our lives together in pleasure.

I’ll fill her life with so much bliss that she won’t be able to remember what pain and sadness feel like.

I crank the throttle and speed up the mountain, knowing my girl is at home waiting for me. I picture her looking all warm and sensual wrapped up in a blanket on my couch. My body craves hers as cold rain hits my face. My fingers ache with the need to touch her soft skin and explore her tempting curves.

I gotta get home…

The thoughts of Kennedy distract me and I don’t realize I’m so close until I see the huge oak tree that leads to the wolves’ den.

I stop the bike and leave it idling as I carefully get off. I pull out my flashlight and turn it on, shining it around as I look for bright eyes reflecting back at me.

It’s raining hard and the storm is supposed to continue throughout the night. The wolves are probably tucked away in their dry den, taking a night off from terrorizing the local wildlife.

I shake out my hands, getting ready for this. The last time I was here, I wandered in by accident and almost had my throat ripped out. These fucking wolves don’t mess around.

Well, neither do I.

I dump the duffel bag on the seat of my dirt bike and unzip it. Adrenaline is making me all tingly and a little light-headed as I grab the bones that I raided from the cemetery. I don’t know who they were from, but they’re not going to miss them.