Jake unlocked his jeep and climbed inside, the frigid night air cutting straight to the bone. Brilliant stars sparkled above, brighter than normal in the black, moonless sky.
He started the engine and cupped his hands over his mouth, huffing warm breath onto his frozen fingers. Jesus, it was cold. For the one hundredth time that day, he thought of Aimee and where she could be. He was worried, pissed, unsettled. And now there had been another confirmed animal attack, this one unprovoked and on a human.
It was big, Brian Callahan had said. Big and black.
Something dangerous was loose in the forest of Wolfe Creek. Of course, he’d known that for a while now. But this time it felt less like shitty luck and more like an acute and serious problem.
The air blowing from the heater finally warmed up. He unzipped his jacket a little and put the jeep in gear. The headlights shone deep into the night, and as he pulled out onto the deserted street, they illuminated the woods beyond. A thin, misty fog hung in the air, weaving around the giant pines like dry ice vapor on a stage.
Forcing himself to look away, he turned onto a dirt road to his right, a shortcut that he normally avoided because of the potholes and black ice. But tonight he didn’t care as much. He just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge.
He reached down to turn on the radio. The reception was crappy and the music, an old AC/DC song, crackled sporadically every few seconds, but it was better than the silence.
He shifted into second and swerved to avoid a particularly big hole in the middle of the road. The headlight beams stretched out before him, the fog turning the light murky blue.
Up ahead, a movement caught his eye—something that didn’t belong, a flash of white in the darkness—and he slowed down. Narrowing his eyes, he leaned forward. It was someone walking. Someone wearing a white jacket.
By the time he could make out the blonde hair and the graceful movement, his pulse had picked up. Aimee.
He pulled up behind her, and she turned and shielded her eyes from the headlights. He crept forward, rolling down the passenger side window.
“Want to tell me what you’re doing out here?” he asked.
Her hands were buried in her pockets, her hair falling loose next to her face. Two bright spots of pink stood out on her cheeks, and she smiled as if he were exactly who she was waiting for.
“I’m heading back to the apartment. You’ve got great timing.”
He eyed her for a second, not sure what to say. He wanted to yell, to pound the steering wheel. Demand to know where the hell she’d been. But instead, he leaned over and unlocked the door.
She climbed in, and her scent immediately filled the cab. Flowery, light. Like she’d just taken a shower and used some kind of lotion after.
He leaned back, careful not to touch her. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to. What he wanted, really wanted, was to wrap his fist in her hair, to force her head back, and kiss her long and hard. To live out every fantasy he’d had about her since the last night they were together.
But he was too pissed for that. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her, much less trust himself to brush his arm up against hers.
So he sat with the jeep idling on the side of the road and, from the corner of his eye, he noticed how she watched him.
“You’re mad,” she said.
“Yeah.”
She sat quiet for a minute, maybe absorbing that. Maybe not knowing what to say either. It was all a guess. She was a mystery that he couldn’t quite grab hold of.
“I’m sorry, Jake.” When she spoke, her voice was tentative. “I didn’t mean to stay gone that long. Things just kind of…happened.”
At that, he looked over at her, his jaw muscles bunching. “Things just happened?”
She nodded.
“I didn’t know where you were. If you were safe or not. I had no clue what the fuck was going through your head, because you didn’t even bother to call and let me know.”
“You have every right to be upset.”
“Yeah, I think I do.”
She stared down at her hands, worrying them in her lap. “I wish I could explain.”
“Why don’t you try?”
“I can’t.”
She’d tucked a strand of hair behind one ear, and he noticed for the first time a dark scrape along one cheekbone. He reached up and turned on the interior light. A slight bluish bruising was just beginning to bloom along its outer edges.
“Shit. What happened?”
She didn’t look up.
“Aimee.”
“What?”
“I’m asking you a question.”
“I told you—”
“Yeah, I got that part,” he said, forcing her chin up to see the scrape better. “You wish you could tell me but you can’t, right?”
It wasn’t deep. Just a graze, but a forceful one.
He swallowed hard, wanting to choke whoever had done this. But had it even been a person? He had no idea at this point.
She studied him with those dark, glittering eyes.
Reaching up, he turned the light off. Tension hung in the air between them, thick and unsettling. It didn’t seem like she was looking at him so much as looking into him.
“I should’ve called you,” she said. “Especially after what happened between us.”
He stared at the road ahead, aware of the slight hitch in her voice. The subtle change in her tone. She was close to tears.
Running his thumb along the steering wheel, he took a deep breath. “I feel responsible…for you.” Still, he didn’t look at her. This time it wasn’t because he didn’t want to, but because he simply couldn’t. He knew how ridiculous that sounded. They’d only known each other a few weeks, but that didn’t make it any less true.
He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe. He knew she could take care of herself. She’d done a pretty good job so far. But she had a softer side to her. A side that brought out something raw and instinctive in himself.
“What happened to Lizzie, my wife,” he said. “It was unthinkable. I’ve had a really hard time with it. And now…with you…” He turned to her, trying to choose his words carefully. Trying to express what he felt without fucking it up. Which wasn’t easy. He’d never been good at expressing himself. “I would have done anything to save her. Anything. I can’t stand the thought of something like that happening again. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
He felt himself relax a little. Reaching out, he cupped her cheek in his hand and trailed his thumb gently over the bruise. Her skin was warm against his fingertips. Soft and smooth. He wanted to lean in and kiss her, but her expression stopped him.
“I was gone too long,” she said quietly.
He watched her, not knowing what that meant. Did she mean this week, or the last two years?
“I do have something to tell you, Jake,” she continued. “But it’s scary for me. For a lot of reasons. Will you trust me that I’ll tell you when the time is right? When things aren’t so screwed up? Or at least when I’ve had a chance to work up to it. Maybe then.”
She was so beautiful in the dim light of the jeep, so fragile and strong at the same time. She did something to him. She moved him like no one had for a really long time.
Leaning close, he hovered over her mouth, breathed in her scent. “I’ll trust you,” he said. “But you have to trust me too. Can you do that?”
She touched her lips to his, teased him with their warmth. They were like a ripe, sweet fruit. “I can do that,” she said.
And then he kissed her, like he’d been wanting to since the last time they’d been together. Long and hard, with his hand tangled in her hair. She gasped and scooted closer, her tongue flicking against his.
She reached between his legs, where he was already hard. Had been since she’d gotten in the jeep. He caught his breath as she started rubbing slowly. Christ.
She worked his belt loose. Then the zipper on his slacks. He watched, transfixed, as she lowered her head into his lap. He felt her tongue trail down his abdomen, then felt her hand wrap around his length.
Groaning, he ran his hand down her side and into the gap in the back of her jeans. Her skin was like satin, her ass firm and round.
Slowly, deliberately, she took him into her mouth. His heart slammed in his chest, his breath coming in short, shallow pants. Still, she went deeper, deeper, until he could feel himself at the back of her throat. She sucked, coaxed, rubbed until he thought he’d come out of his skin.
Outside the jeep, a coyote yipped through the darkness. The mist had grown thick, and had settled itself around the base of the evergreens like a witch’s cauldron.
He closed his eyes and focused on the idling motor, the feel of the heater blowing against his skin, her body against his.
And he wondered again what she was hiding.