Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
I frowned despite myself. Minutes later, he reappeared with a bright lantern, guiding him through the trees. He dragged an old metal ladder that looked like it weighed two hundred pounds, hauling it effortlessly as though he’d been trained to.
I bit, “What are you doing?”
Without an ounce of remorse or shame, he spewed, “Collecting you.”
“The hell you are!” I held back a curse. “You need to go!”
He laid the ladder against the tree. “I gave you a choice.” The ladder juddered beneath the weight of his body.
My eyes widened when I realized he was following through, coming to snatch me out of this tree.
“So now we do this my way.”
Carajo… I thought. Shit.
Never taking his eyes off where he placed his hands, he climbed until the ladder couldn’t take him farther, stopping several feet below my branch. Pulling himself onto one of the branches, he flowed with natural precision, like he’d been climbing trees long before he feared falling, just like me. He only stopped once he was a branch below mine.
His hoodie was pulled over his head, and I couldn’t see much of his face. The same way I hadn’t when we were in the foyer earlier.
His breathing may have been ragged. I hoped his lungs burned, but he looked calm and composed, freaking me the hell out. He climbed this tree far too easily. He was experienced.
Why?
Spiteful, I snapped, “I would’ve chosen the bear.”
A ghost of a smile threatened the corner of his mouth, though it disappeared before it ever truly formed. He didn’t bother hiding the flicker of amusement that spread across his face as he taunted, “Who says you didn’t?”
My heart stuttered, searching his shadowed expression for any trace that he was joking. I didn’t find one.
“You’re insane,” I simply stated.
“Sanity is overrated.”
“You think you’re a bear?” I challenged, not backing down.
He tilted his head. “No.”
I pressed, “Then what are you?”
He didn’t answer, watching me instead.
I hated how long it took before he finally argued, “Wrong question. Now ask me the right one.”
My jaw tightened. “Which is?”
He held my gaze. “The one you’re afraid to ask.”
My patience broke like a thread. “Do any of you answer the questions you’re asked?”
He leaned back against the tree, getting far too comfortable. “Only when it’s earned.”
“Yeah,” I mocked. “Well, I don’t owe you anything.”
“No.” He cocked his head further, studying me as if he already knew the answer. “But you do owe yourself honesty.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re wondering why you’re still up here with me.”
“If I had another choice—”
“You do.” His words cut through mine. “Just jump.”
Two words that hung heavy between us like a bomb. My grip tightened around the bark. He was fully aware I wouldn’t do it.
With that, a smile actually crossed his face, calling me out, “Exactly.”
My stomach twisted into knots as his stare dropped to my hands. “You’re holding on too tightly. Your fingers are going to go numb.”
Subconsciously, I glanced down at how far I’d fall.
“You don’t trust me,” he said out of nowhere.
“No shit.”
“Good,” he mused. “Trust only gets you killed. It’s instinct that keeps you alive.”
I flinched. “My instinct is why I’m here.”
“This is where you thought no one would find you?”
“I’m not hiding.”
“No?”
“I just wanted to be alone.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Yes.”
His stare lingered on me for a moment. “Convince me why.”
I repeated, “I just wanted to be alone.”
“No, you wanted to disappear. That’s the difference.”
I ignored his observation and made my own. The forest seemed to breathe around him. It knew him. It was how he could climb this tree in the first place.
Reading my mind yet again, he suggested, “You should’ve picked another tree.”
“You were watching me,” I accused. “That’s how you found me?”
He was quiet long enough for the wind to answer for him, but then he shared, “I knew where you’d go.”
“How?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he nodded to the branch to the left of me, flashing his light on it. There, half worn down, was what looked like a date.
10-31-12
The numbers were carved deep enough that the tree had grown around them.
“What’s that?” My gaze drifted from the date back to him. His expression hadn’t changed. He was still staring at the numbers.
If this date meant something to him, he didn’t show it in the least.
Unable to resist, I asked, “Did you carve that?”
Again, silence.
“Do you ever answer a question?”
“Only the important ones.”
“Fine.” I asked, “Then why are you here?”
His stare connected with mine again. “Because you are.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one that matters.” He held my gaze without blinking. “You wanted them to forget you… They didn’t. If anything, you only provoked them.”
“You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?”
“I’m just waiting for you to prove me wrong.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. And who are they?” I finally questioned. “As far as I know, I’m here because of my uncle.”