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I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
As I confessed the unspeakable truth to Declan, I could feel his grip on me tighten, as if he could shield me from the horrors of my own memories just by holding me close. “Can I come in? I just want to bathe and . . .”
I wanted to feel clean. I wanted to feel new. I wanted to wash the stench of him from my body.
Declan grabbed a blanket, and I wrapped it around me as I focused on the inside of Declan’s RV. Taking in my surroundings helped me not think of the warring thoughts in my mind. It was cozy and inviting, with warm wood paneling and soft lighting that gave the space a welcoming glow. The air was scented with a mixture of pine and cedar, creating a sense of relaxation and peace.
I had to focus on my surroundings. I wasn’t in the tent anymore. I wasn’t with James, I was safe.
As I stepped inside, my eyes were drawn to the comfortable-looking sofa that sat against the wall. The cushions were plump and inviting, and the soft throw blanket draped over the arm of the sofa looked incredibly tempting. The coffee table in front of the sofa was made of dark wood and was adorned with a vase of wildflowers that added a touch of color to the space.
I wasn’t in the tent anymore.
I was here. I was in Declan’s RV. I was safe.
To the right of the sofa was a small kitchen area, complete with a sink, a stove, and a refrigerator. The cabinets were made of the same warm wood as the walls, and were adorned with copper handles that added a touch of elegance to the space. A small dining table sat against the wall, with two chairs that looked well-worn and comfortable.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
To the left of the sofa was a small bedroom area, with a queen-size bed that was covered in a soft white duvet. The walls were adorned with black-and-white photographs of the desert and its inhabitants, adding a touch of the wildness of the outdoors to the cozy space.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
Overall, the inside of Declan’s RV was a perfect blend of comfort and ruggedness, a reflection of its owner’s love for the outdoors and his appreciation for the simple things in life. I needed more things to look at. More things to focus on. I’d count the threads in his comforter. Lick specs of dust up from the floor and let them coat my raw throat. Point at ants on a hill. Anything to keep my fucking mind focused on something else.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
“Where are these bastards now, Wildflower?” he asked while picking up a gun from his table and checking the magazine. I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I swallowed. “East of here, about twenty-five miles. We rode all day, so we got out pretty far. They’re probably sleeping off their drunken night.” It was still just thirty minutes past sunrise. I doubted they’d be moving anytime soon. I needed to find the strength to go back and get my horses.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
I wasn’t in that fucking tent anymore.
