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It washes over me—the inescapable fact that I wasn’t even paying attention to all those turns I just took—like a tidal wave of frigid water.
Now my heart is pulsing wildly, and I’m drenched in sweat because I’m scared shitless. Yes, this calls for some swears. Fuck-a-luck, stick shits, damn it, bitchin, frickin, frackin, fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck! How could I get myself lost?
This is a new level of pathetic—a horrible low.
Of course, it only takes about two seconds for the panic to get its talons embedded deeply into me.
I’m going to die out here. Oh my god, they might never even find my body. If they do find me, it could take days. Are there really bears and cougars and stuff around here? My god, I don’t even know what stuff is. Stuff could be anything. I’ll probably get eaten alive by giant mosquitoes, ticks, and those weird sounding pine sawyers they warned us about at dinner the first night, all before help ever comes. This is humiliating.
The last thought sobers me up, and I spin in a slow circle, trying to get my bearings. Everything looks the same. Just…trees, trees, and more trees.
I try telling myself to calm down and think rationally, but I know it’s hopeless. I paid no attention at all to the path I was walking.
I’m so wound up that it doesn’t even cross my mind to think of calling out for Raiden in hopes that maybe he didn’t lose me in all those twists and turns I took. Yes, I’d stoop that low right about now. Instead of calming down and forcing myself to think of a game plan, I walk up and down the path, pacing in agitation and muttering under my breath.
Suddenly, a branch snaps a few feet back. I freeze. Oh god, this is it. This is how I meet my demise.
I turn slowly, bracing myself to meet whatever grisly end is coming for me in the form of something wild and toothy and scary.
When I spot Raiden coming around the bend in the path, my relief is so great that my lungs deflate, my whole body instantly comes mushy jelly, and the waterworks turn on. Big time. In short, I become a very unattractive, sobbing, blubbering, and snotting mess.CHAPTER 11RaidenAs soon as Zoe sees me, her face changes. I turned the bend in the path and found her standing there with her face red, her eyes big and scared. She looks like she might have just seen an angry mother bear, but a quick check tells me there aren’t any bears around. It’s silent in the small clearing. Just Zoe and yours truly.
Before I can even gather what the ever-living heck is going on, Zoe’s eyes get even bigger, and then they’re swimming with tears. Some of those tears drip down her cheek, and she sniffles loudly like she’s not even making an effort to contain it. Her face contracts and I realize she’s about to ugly cry. Not that Zoe could ever be ugly. She’s always beautiful. But I’m unprepared for the sudden extreme run Zoe does across the clearing. She comes at me, and I’m a big guy, and Zoe really isn’t big at all, but she knocks me back a step when her body collides with mine. She hits me like the force of a ten-ton truck. I’m astounded, to say the least.
Her arms go around my neck, and she clings to me while she tries to climb me like I’m one of the trees in the forest, and she’s—god, I don’t know. A squirrel, maybe? No, I think they’re more adept at climbing. Maybe a really bottom-heavy bear?
I’m pretty sure I didn’t speak out loud, so I’m a little astounded when Zoe pulls back an inch to sock me in the shoulder with her fist. She does it again, all while sobbing these crazy, huge, wracking sobs that are tearing her small frame apart.
“You! You! You’ve m–m–messed everything up!” She wails. “Everything! I used to be a normal person before I met you. For the second time. Again. Whatever. I used to be okay. I used to be…I used to be someone who doesn’t assault another person in the woods, now look at me! I’m out of control. I can’t make myself be in control. I don’t know what’s happening, and I want to say I want it to stop, but the truth is, I know I d–d–don’t!”
“I’m good with assault, as long as it’s coming from you.” When more tears spill down Zoe’s cheeks, I realize what a shitty joke that was.
“No! No, don’t say that! This is bad! This is wrong!”
I capture Zoe’s hands gently in both of mine. As soon as I do, she melts against me, her sobs picking up steam until her whole body is shaking. I’ve always hated it when people cry. My mom used to do this weekly—cry like this. She had a hard run of it. Having zero luck with men, she worked a few different jobs and nearly killed herself trying to make ends meet. I’d see her crying about bills, about collectors calling, about the new guy who stood her up, and about how she was going to be able to afford to feed us for the week. Sometimes, I didn’t even know what she was crying about, but I always hated it. It made me feel helpless and powerless.
