And my car was gone, my purse and phone in it. I had nothing, now. No way out.
No gun, either. The way my body barely responded to my attempts to move and screamed in pain every time I did, I was a poor candidate for survival against even a feeble murderer.
And this one wasn’t feeble. He had jeans on but no shirt, and the same powerful arms that had pulled me from my wrecked and flooding car were now coaxing me to take a glass of water from him. I reached for it, and winced. My fingers were crusted in blood, and my palm had a cut that ran from top to bottom.
“I’m sorry I didn’t clean you up any. I was so worried about the hypothermia I didn’t get a chance.”
My hand shook holding the glass, until I was on the verge of dropping it, and he reached out to steady it for me. I managed a sip. It was cool and crisp, and it soothed my dry, swollen tongue. A bit of dried blood flaked off my hand and landed on the soft blue blanket. I wondered what the rest of me looked like.
“I—I have to go,” I croaked.
“Of course,” he said. “Now that you’reokay—” He said this with incredulity, as if I wasn’t, and I had to agree. Breathing was a struggle. I pressed the blanket against my chest to cover myself, and even this slight pressure made my nerve endings scream. “—I can leave you to go start chopping up the tree that fell across the road, and we’ll get the tow up here to see about your vehicle.” His sharp exhale turned into a whistle. “That was some crash. I can’t say she’ll drive again after all that, but we’ll get the ambulance up here, or I can bring you to the hospital. Let me get you some food and some ibuprofen first, if that’s alright.”
Maybe I was too hurt and exhausted, and all my survival instinct had been squeezed out of me, but I wasn’t getting the same serial killer vibes now, in the light of day.
“My purse, and my phone…” This was too many words for me, without enough water, yet, and it sparked a coughing fit that clanged through my head something vicious. I pressed my hand to my forehead and squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t help.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get them,” he said softly. “Lay back and try to rest. I’ll bring some clothes you can wear, too. Once the sun comes out, I can put yours on the clothesline to dry.”
The pain subsided a bit, and I opened my eyes. He was still there, in the chair, his eyes full of concern.
I eyed his naked chest, and then my own naked body, and I stared him in the eyes.
“Oh,no,” he said. He shook his head. His eyes widened. “God, no. Nothinghappened, Mia. You were in an awful car accident, for Christ’s sake. I’m not a…” He exhaled hard. “You went unconscious, and you were so damn cold, and I, um…you know, there’s really only skin-to-skin contact to safely revive a hypothermia victim. So…” His cheeks turned a bright, screaming red.
I lay back against the pillows, my whole solar plexus wracked at being forced into this movement, and I considered what he said. Maybe it was an early onset Stockholm Syndrome talking, but I believed him.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m sorry. Really sorry about what happened.” He looked down at the floor, as if pondering the floorboards. He shook his head a little. “I don’t know why you left, and you don’t owe me an explanation. I’m sure you had your reasons. You want to try another sip of water? I can help you.”
I nodded, and he sat next to me on the bed, careful not to jostle my broken body. He lifted my head up for me, slow and steady, and held the glass up to my lips.
It dawned on me: I’d stayed out all night, no contact, instead of doing the four hours and heading back to the club.
I was AWOL. The one rule none of us ever broke. Orthey’d break you.
Harvey was going to murder me, if this guy didn’t take the initiative.
My dark thoughts were interrupted by a loud clap of thunder.
six
. . .
Armin
When the thunder hit,she startled, and then winced.
“It’s okay,” I said, and I reached out a hand to comfort her, then quickly withdrew it. I didn’t want to overstep any boundaries.
Lightning flashed outside, strobing the walls of my bedroom through its lone window. We couldn’t catch a break. I could still go out and chop up the fallen tree in the rain, but if this was going to be another downpour like last night’s, I didn’t know how I was going to get us out of here.
“I’ll go grab the food and painkillers,” I said. “Can’t take ibuprofen on an empty stomach or it’ll tear up your insides.”
She looked doubtful but she nodded.
“And I’ll bring you some warm clothes, throw a few logs on the fire. Some summer this turned out to be.” It was usually about twenty degrees cooler up here than in town anyway, but this day had turned out nearly as frigid as last night. Plus this crazy mid-day storm.
I headed into the kitchen to scrape together a plate of food, not an easy feat with my meager rations up here. Big disappointment when I opened the fridge. All I had was someold venison charcuterie from the most recent deer I’d hunted and tanned. A bit of cheese. An old apricot jam from last season. Damn it. This would have to do for now.
