Page 45 of Two Times the Mountain Men
“Just a few more minutes,” I groaned, refusing to open my eyes and pulling a pillow over my head to block him out.
“I wish I could, but we need to go.”
“Then you guys go,” I groaned, “I’ll be fine here. I’ve been having horrible nightmares all night and I need to sleep. I kept dreaming those fugitives broke in and you guys killed them.” I groaned again as a spike of pain rushed through my head. “And my head hurts like a bitch. Do you have any aspirin?”
There was a long pause. If I didn’t still feel him next to me on my bed then I would have guessed he’d left. “I do have aspirin. But you have to get up.”
“Fine. Fine.” Removing the pillow from my head, I opened my eyes and frowned. Brock looked tired—real tired. There was a look in his eyes that I couldn’t quite place, and had never seen before. “What’s going on?”
“You don’t remember?”
My mind went blank for a moment and then it all came rushing back to me. I hadn’t been dreaming, it had been real. It had all been real. “Give me the mirror on the dresser.”
“Genevieve…” His frown deepened as he took my hands in his. “Maybe you shouldn’t.”
“Give me the mirror, Brock!” I didn’t mean to yell at him, but I was feeling so overwhelmed.
He sighed and nodded. Getting up from the bed, he grabbed the hand mirror from the dresser and reluctantly passed it to me, sitting back down beside me.
A part of me was hesitant to accept the mirror. If he didn’t want to give it to me then there had to be a reason. Slowly I lifted it to my face and my mouth dropped. I had a massive lump on one side of my face, with a mean-looking cut. On the other side was another large bruise next to my black eye. “Ohmygod. It really was real.”
“It was.”
“Where are they? Are they dead?” The idea of seeing two dead bodies in the living room made me physically ill. My stomach began to churn. “I think I’m going to puke.”
He leaned forward and grabbed a wastebasket, then held it in front of me. “It’s been taken care of. But we need to take the bodies to town and you need to go with us.”
The mention of the bodies was all it took for what little contents I had in my stomach to come barreling up. Grabbing at the waste can I projectile vomited into the can, crying and gasping between the heaves.
“It’s going to be okay.” Brock said softly, rubbing my back. “It’s all over now.”
It seemed to take forever, but when I was finally finished my stomach and throat ached and my embarrassment was at an all-time high. “I’m sorry. I just…I just had a thought in my head of the men and dead…. Oh God. There was blood. I’d been laying in blood.” I grabbed for the waste can again but this time it wasn’t needed.
Brock stood and extended his hand to me. “Come on. The truck is loaded and we’re ready to go. We’ll give you a few minutes to get yourself arranged and then we’ll head out; it’s going to take a long time to get to town.”
Accepting his help, I stood and took a second to get my feet under me before releasing his hand. “Okay, I’ll just be a minute.”
Leaning down he gave me a hug and a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room, closing the door behind me.
It took longer than anticipated to get ready. My body was sore and I kept getting bouts of dizziness, but I eventually accomplished the task. Opening the door, I found my men ready and waiting for me.
“We packed you breakfast and a thermos of hot cocoa.” Tyler said, holding up a thermos and a bag that smelled like toasted blueberry bagels.
“Thank you.” After getting bundled up, I accepted the thermos and was grateful that the guys had been considerate enough to think about breakfast for me.
“The bagels should help settle your stomach.”
I nodded. I had a sinking feeling that this was going to be a very, very long day.
~*~ TT ~*~
Tyler
“And that’s that happened, Sheriff.” I sat back in the chair. I was the final of the three of us to give a statement. The bodies had already been retrieved from the back of the truck and it appeared that we were almost done at the station. It had taken hours to get back to town, but at least the initial path had been made, to our cabin at least. There was much more work to be done to make those roads passable.
“Wow. That’s some ordeal you three had to go through.” The balding sheriff, who I believed to be in his late-fifties, leaned back in his chair and let out a low whistle, steepling his hands before him.
“We’re just lucky to have gotten through it without any causalities,” Brock stated.
