Page 22 of When Hearts Collide

This exhilaration. This freedom. This other side of me I never knew I had.

I found myself wishing I packed my philosophy books with me. If I could have curled up on the wicker chair in front of the lodge with my books, life would have been perfect.

Suddenly, I heard a loud thumping behind me.

“Look out, Ryland!” Maxwell screamed, his eyes widening in terror.

I frown, and mouthed, “What?”

Maxwell charged forward, his eyes taking on a determined glint, and in that moment, it was like seeing myself in a mirror. Even though we weren’t identical twins, but the piercing gray pools, the harsh cheekbones, the furrowed brows, were all features I recognized in myself.

Within seconds, he barreled into me, tackling me to the ground in a half twist and a sharp pain exploded in my eye, radiating to the rest of my face, taking the literal breath out of my lungs.

“What the fuck—”

“Oh my God!” My father’s harsh yell sounded so far away.

Maxwell laid above me as another weight landed on top of us, and he released a guttural groan. I gasped when I saw a wild boar lodging its tusks into Maxwell’s side as my brother fought to cover me with his own body.

“Maxwell!” I gasped, and the boar snarled before Maxwell wheezed and twisted his free hand, somehow holding a gun, and finally pulled the trigger.

The boom echoed among the trees and burrowed straight into my heart. Maxwell collapsed on top of me as the boar fell over sideways. I heard Dad’s pounding footsteps as he tried to reach us as fast as he could.

I rolled out from under my brother, my eyes widening when I saw the warm, sticky crimson liquid on my hands.

Maxwell’s blood.

No. No. No.

Maxwell coughed, his face as pale as a sheet of paper, and I ripped the hem of my favorite gray Metallica T-shirt and pressed it over his wound, my heart pounding, clamoring for its womb mate.

“Please, please. Maxwell. Stay with us. Please. Oh my God,” I chanted repeatedly under my breath as Maxwell grabbed my hand.

“Ryland, you okay? It didn’t get you, did it?” He groaned and his eyes took on a wet sheen.

Shaking my head, I pressed on his wound, watching the blood seep through the shirt. “I-I’m okay. Hang in there, Maxwell. Hold on, help is coming.”

“Couldn’t let my favorite brother get mauled by a wild pig,” he whispered, his dark hair pressed against his sweaty forehead. “I’m fucking cursed, anyway. Better me than you.”

“You asshole. Don’t you dare. Fuck the curse. Maybe it’s me that’s cursed. We’re twins, after all.”

Maxwell wheezed in half-laughter, half-pain. “Seven minutes. I’m older than you by seven minutes, so the damn curse is mine. Don’t you dare forget it. My life is not my own, so this is probably the most heroic thing I could’ve done…and you would’ve done the same thing for me.”

He trembled on the ground and his eyes rolled to the back of his head before his body fell still.

“No!” I screamed. “Maxwell! Stay with us, please.”

Dad reached us and barked out instructions into his satellite phone as I helplessly watched my twin bleeding on the ground, a pool of dark red staining the damp earth underneath him. Shaking my head, I pressed harder on the wound, my mind in chaos, my body swept up in bone-chilling fear.

A crimson river suddenly flooded my eye, and I winced from the belated flash of pain. My fingers trembled as I touched my face, feeling a deep gash on my right eyebrow.

I should’ve paid attention to where I was going.

I should’ve been more careful.

I should’ve stayed on the trail, followed the plan.

Freedom always comes at a price.

---