Page 27 of Caught in the Middle

He was so temperamental. Just when she sees a side to him that she likes, like how he was when he crawled into her bed last night, then he goes and behaves like this.

After what felt like forever of not talking, Oliver turned to face her. 'Turn down the next lane, please.'

His voice was laden with ice, and for the first time since she initially met him, she was scared of him again. They were in the middle of an unknown forest, with probably nobody around for miles. Maybe he had just had enough of her. She was causing him too much trouble. Maybe, it was just best to...dispose of her now?

She swallowed hard as she turned down the next road, much narrower and boasting much thicker forestry than the previous road. Her glances over at Oliver revealed nothing, he just continued to stare straight ahead, clearly pondering something.

'Continue until the end of the lane, there's a little river that runs through the forest at the bottom of it.'

Her heart sank a little. He seemed to know this thick forest pretty well, considering that the tiny lanes are small and confusing. Why is he taking her to a lake? Nobody would hear her scream…

She quickly pushed the thought out of her mind.

As she crawled down the little lane, the space began to widen into a clearing, in a rough circle shape, with a large, clear stream running through the middle of it. Despite the time of year, and the fact they were right by the water, the earth surrounding the river was surprisingly dry and flat.

Lucy stopped the car and turned off the engine, waiting cautiously for Oliver's next instruction. He rolled his eyes and pulled up the hand break, muttering something about rolling into the river.

'You're going to have to help me,' he said, un-clicking his seatbelt.

As long as I'm not helping you kill me.

She hopped out of the car and made her way around to the passenger seat, opening the door for him. Now she wasn't driving, she could see his gash properly, and it looked painful. The blood was making his trousers stick to his leg, absolutely saturating his clothes. His hands were covered in blood.

As he limped out of the car, Lucy felt a pang of guilt, which she quickly pushed aside. She had saved his life, and she had to keep reminding herself of that. Of course, he must have been in pain, but that's a small price to pay for being alive.

He steadied himself against the car as he hobbled to the back of the car. With a small groan, he lifted the trunk door.

'You don't happen to be a first aider?' he muttered, still not looking at her.

Lucy went around to the back of the car, to see if she could help him. She was surprised, however, to see that in the trunk lay a massive, silver suitcase. It was by far the biggest Lucy had ever seen.

He popped it open, revealing dozens of suit trousers, shirts, bags of god knows what, all perfectly folded and packed into this ginormous thing.

'So this is why you always look so fresh.'

He didn't reply, instead he hopped over to the river, bent over and washed his hands in the water. Red streaks ran into the current.

When he came back to the car, he dug around in the case and pulled out a fluffy white towel, and large wash bag.

He grit his teeth as he peeled off his shirt. Lucy looked away in embarrassment, even though the night before she had felt his hard body against her. She felt that in the cold light of day it wasn't really appropriate...especially considering she's just shot him.

'You're going to have to help me with my trousers.'

Her head snapped back up from staring intently at the river as he began to unbuckle his belt. She faltered for a second, taken off guard. Oliver rolled his eyes - clearly, he wasn't her biggest fan right now, and he most certainly wouldn't be asking her if he didn't need help.

He pulled the bloody trousers down to the top of his thigh, revealing crisp white Calvin Klein’s. Lucy's heart raced a little faster, despite the situation.

Oliver winced in pain. He couldn't pull them down anymore because the material was fused to his right thigh in a clump of sodden blood. He leaned against the car and closed his eyes.

Lucy quickly hurried over to him, and began to work his trousers down gingerly over his muscular thighs. She'd always been squeamish - even the sight of her own blood made her feel queasy, but this feeling was pushed aside at being so close to his muscular, tanned chest. She noticed, as he leaned back on the car in pain, he had those deep 'V' muscles that only models have.

Jesus, he was hot.

She tried not to think about how close her head was to his groin, and gripped his calf so that he could step out of his trousers.

Now, he was leaning against the boot of the car in just his boxer shorts, ridiculously toned abs...And a massive gash in the side of his leg. To be honest though, Lucy barely noticed it.

Oliver picked up his wash bag and towel, and hobbled down to the river.

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