Page 34 of High Frequency

I scramble to my feet, moaning at the tight pinch of muscles all over my damn body. My heart is hammering in my chest. I need some air, some distance, so I can gather my thoughts.

Could it be…?

I give myself a mental shake; don’t go there.

Right now, I don’t trust myself to read his comments correctly. I’m too frazzled. If I let myself go there it would create a seismic shift, which would have me questioning everything. It would mean bitter regret, and eight years wasted.

No, I can’t think like that. How can there be any regret when I have a beautiful daughter I wouldn’t trade for anyone or anything?

Space. I need a little space.

“I think I’m going to wash up a little before I turn in,” I announce, trying not to look at him.

“Take the flashlight.”

His voice is soft, and I wonder whether these revelations shook him as much as they’ve shaken me.

I nod in response, and dart into the tent to grab my bar of biodegradable soap, a clean shirt and underwear, and my microfiber towel.

While Dan was hanging his hammock earlier, I explored a bit and discovered a large flat rock in the water a little upriver, just around the bend. I thought I’d get up early tomorrow morning to have a quick dip and a wash, but now is as good a time as any.

I need a few minutes alone to collect myself.

“Don’t go too far,” Dan calls after me.

“I won’t,” I promise.

Even with a flashlight, it’s a little creepy walking into the dark alone, but I don’t have far to go. As soon as I clear the tree cover on the other side of the bend, I notice it’s much lighter. When I look up to the sky, I see the clouds which gathered late this afternoon have cleared, giving the nearly full moon a chance to reflect off the water.

The rock I found earlier protrudes from the bank into the middle of the creek, which creates a bit of a shelter from view. I walk out onto the flat surface and drop my stuff, before quickly stripping down and slipping into the shallow water.

Holy fucking hell, that water’s cold.

My whole body puckers up, but it’s nice to be able to wash the worst of the sweat and the grime off me. Ducking my head under, I use the soap to give my hair a quick rinse. By the time that’s done, my body seems to have adjusted to the temperature and I let myself enjoy the buoyancy of the water for a bit. It feels good, soothes my tight muscles.

I’m leaning with my head back against the rock, my eyes closed, when a loud crash behind me has me surge up out of the water.

I scramble to my feet and blindly grab for the towel to cover myself, my eyes scanning the shore. The shadows are so dark, I can’t see shit beyond the tree line so I reach for the flashlight with my free hand. Of course I left my damn sidearm in the tent.

Some detective I am.

My only—rather weak—excuse is my discussion with Dan rattled me enough to forget.

“Sloane! Are you okay?”I hear him bellow.“Fuck. Sloane!”

Then I hear movement on the shore and aim the flashlight to find the source of the sound, only to see Dan’s large form burst from the trees. He has a gun in one hand and lifts his other hand to protect his eyes from the flashlight as he steps onto the rock. I immediately lower the beam and rush toward him.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know yet, I had to make sure you were all right.”

It’s not until his hand squeezes my very naked shoulder, I realize my state of undress. Nothing but a thin towel haphazardly held up in front of me in one clenched fist, barely covering my bits.

Wonderful.

Apparently, I haven’t lost the knack to embarrass myself in front of this man.

“I’m fine, but what was that crash?” I ask, eager to distract him.

---