Chapter 1
Emmerson
Youknow,it’slikethe harder you try to hold onto a secret, the more it wants to come out. It’s calling to you,Let me out. I want to be free. It’s so much nicer out there in the land of the wild, strong, and free.
No, damn it. There’s nothing wild, strong, and free about me. And there’s nothing nice out here. That’s why you’re a secret. Stay inside and be quiet. That’s literally your only job.
But of course I’m a hypocrite because I can’t even do my job right now.
RING. RING.
Odd. Why is my phone ringing? No one calls anymore. Everyone just texts. I see the name, Clark. That sounds familiar, so I answer it.
A loud abrasive cough fills my ear. Once it settles, I hear a voice croak out, “Emmerson?”
“Yes?”
“This is Clark. Your tour guide.” Another cough. Can’t this guy pull the phone away from his mouth while he’s hacking up a lung?
“Yes?” But I have a sneaking suspicion that I know what’s coming.
“I can’t take you on the tour today. I’m sick.”
No shit.
“Oh. So…what happens now?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll get Jack to cover for me.”
“Jack?” I squeak out as my heart flings itself against my rib cage.
“Ya. He’ll be there soon. Just a bit of a later start. Sorry.”
“Oh, don’t bother. I’ll—”
Another cough. Loud. In my ear. Not sure I have an intact eardrum left.
“You still wanna go, right?”
I force myself to say yes. Because I have to. I’m rethinking that promise I made to myself for this weekend.
“Good. Gotta go.” Another cough. “Have fun,” he manages and then hangs up.
Well. This was not the plan. And shit. This was really not the plan. Alone in the woods with Jack? I’m not sure I can do that.
My palms are sweaty and it’s like one hundred and forty five horses are galloping in my chest. And yes, I know what one hundred and forty five horses galloping sounds and feels like because the Jenson boys have a ranch and I’ve been there and they have one hundred and forty five horses and oh my God my heart is going to explode.
Alone with Jack. In the woods. By ourselves. Together. Overnight.
No.
My chest is heaving. I don’t think I can do this.
Yes, I’m having this conversation with myself as I cling to my messenger bag full of all kinds of secrets. So many secrets. And Jack is the last one who can find out about these secrets.
I need to calm down, take my mind off of this new development.
There’s one thing I know will distract me, so I may as well face it. I reach into the front pocket of my bag and grab the package, tearing off the external wrapping. I can see through the clear plastic front, and my insides clench. What the hell was I thinking when I bought this? Oh, I know what I was thinking—or rather, feeling. I was feeling inadequate, inexperienced, and insatiable. And I needed inspiration for my books. A way to bridge the gap between theory and real life experience.
