Page 43 of Capture Me


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She just stared at me for a second, open-mouthed. Then she shook her head to herself as if I was crazy…but her face had softened. She sighed, made a big show of slipping her shirt sleeve over her hand and took the nettles.

I built a fire while she fussed around with twisting and breaking the nettles so that they’d fit into my metal mess tin. It took me longer than it should to get the fire lit because I kept stopping to watch her. She was in outsize military gear, she had dirt on her cheeks from scrambling up rocks and her ankle boots were still soaked and muddy from when she’d climbed out of the lake. But she’d never looked more beautiful. She’d pulled her hair back to keep it out of the way, exposing new, secret areas of soft, milky skin at the back of her jaw and just beneath her ear. The sun made her tightly-pulled back hair gleam and, as she knelt and leaned forward, I could see the outline of her breasts push out the front of her borrowed military shirt.

I finally got the fire lit, Tanya filled up the tin with water and we set it boiling.

“This is like something Cal would make,” I said.

“The one I stabbed?” She said it as easily as you’d say, “The one in a hat?”

“Yeah. He’s good at all this stuff. Where’d you learn it?”

“The academy.”

“Spy school?” I said it as a joke. But when she glanced up at me, her eyes were sad.

“Yes,” she said tightly. Then, “It’s ready, now.”

I wrapped my hand in my shirt sleeve again and lifted the hot tin off the fire, peering uncertainly at the contents. I glanced at Tanya and she nodded, enthusiastically: go on!

I blew on it and gingerly sipped, then drank some more.

“Good?” asked Tanya.

It wasn’t good. It was terrible, like someone had boiled celery for a week. But she looked so childishly hopeful and proud… “Mmm!” I told her. “Refreshing.”

She grinned in delight and that made it worth it. I drank half, then offered her the tin. She shook her head. “I never got the taste for it. You have it.”

I smiled like I was grateful and finished the whole thing. That was a taste that was staying with me forever. “Thanks,” I said, and she smiled shyly.

I looked around. The view was incredible, up here. I could see for miles across the forest. There was the lake we’d jumped into and the river we’d camped by. We walked that far?! The sun was warm on our bodies and the breeze kept it from getting too hot. We had a fire and I was with a beautiful woman. We didn’t have to get going right now. It wouldn’t hurt to just enjoy the moment.

I sat back, leaning against my pack. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was. Not just muscle-tired but sleepy-tired. But then I’d been up most of the night and I’d only had a few gulps of coffee that morning. I was pretty sure nettle tea didn’t have any caffeine in it: maybe the god awful taste was meant to keep you awake.

I leaned back and back. My pack was unbelievably soft…

I blinked and snapped my eyes wide for a second. I’d nearly dozed off. Why am I so tired? Already, my eyelids were descending like huge, heavy roller doors.

Tanya crawled closer, watching me carefully, and I suddenly realized what was going on. I tried to make my mouth work. “Oh, you b—”

She put a finger to my lips. “Shh, my plyushevyy mishka.” She smiled as if I was sweet. “Sleep, now.”

I slept.

27

TANYA

I smiled down at Colton. So big, so intimidating…but sometimes, he really was just a big plyushevyy mishka. A big teddy bear.

I opened my hand and looked down at the little nub of gold in my palm. The top of my ring, which I’d unscrewed as I made the tea to reveal a tiny chamber filled with white powder. It hadn’t been hard to tip it into the tea. A very old-school move. But sometimes, the old tricks are the best.

I should have felt victorious: I was finally free of him. But as I knelt beside him, I felt an ache deep in my chest.

I stood, kicked dirt over the campfire and pulled on the backpack he’d given me. The ache became a pull. This is it. I’d never see him again.

I was careful not to look over my shoulder as I walked away. I wasn’t sure what I’d do if I did.

Getting to New York wasn’t difficult. After hiking into town, I skulked in a parking lot near a car with New York plates and, when the owner approached, I burst into loud, messy tears. He was perfect, a married guy in his forties, old enough that he felt protective of me, young enough that he still thought he might have a chance of fucking me. When I told him how my boyfriend had dumped me during a camping trip, he offered to take me back to New York with him. I rewarded him with gentle flirting and left him with a fake email address on a street that wasn’t mine.

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