Page 17 of Through The Woods

I wasn’t worried—perhaps I should’ve been, but from what I’d seen over the last few days, these bikers were nothing like their TV counterparts.

They didn’t even have club whores—I thought that was a prerequisite for all motorcycle gangs.

My nose itched and I stared angrily at the restraints around my arms.

Great.

It began running and I knew that it was probably another nosebleed. I’d had them daily for as long as I’d been using.

The cravings hit me hard, threatening the resolve I’d built up over the last three days. I forced my eyes closed and concentrated on my breathing.

When I was stressed out as a kid, I could always count on my mom to talk me off the ledge. She’d sit with me in the floor, my hands clasped tightly in hers, urging me to “just get through the next breath.”

It wasn’t always a quick fix, but eventually my breathing would even out and the weight on my chest would disappear.

A lone tear slipped down my cheek.

God, I’d messed up everything.

Fir tree

“Little Girl.”

The sound of his voice startled me awake. I couldn’t even remember falling asleep.

My eyes flew open and there he was, the man who thought I resembled a mangy dog in need of putting down.

“It’s Neve.” I forced out through gritted teeth.

“Don’t care. Why are you refusing to eat?” His hand brushed across the scruff on his face just as he’d done a few days ago—as if it was a nervous tic.

I shook my head and his eyebrows raised in surprise. He obviously wasn’t used to someone openly refusing him. “I’m not hungry.”

The chair creaked as he shifted his weight, his eyes never leaving mine. His tongue clicked against his teeth. “Here’s what’s gonna happen—you’re gonna eat something. It might come as a shock to you, but Doc ain’t in the habit of babysitting little bitches with attitudes the size of Texas.”

I expected him to say more, but he shifted back in his seat and cracked his neck, obviously turning the conversation over to me. My eyes burned with unshed tears at being referred to as a bitch. “I’m. Not. Hungry.”

His jaw tightened as I enunciated each word and I knew that I’d effectively pushed his buttons. “Ain’t nothing I’d love more than to throw your sorry ass back out into the woods, but Doc vouched for you. So, do the man a solid and eat some goddamn food.”

Charm stood up and walked out, slamming the door behind him, and I breathed a small sigh of relief. That relief was short-lived when he burst through the door a few minutes later.

He began pacing the room, his fingers tirelessly stroking at his chin. “Okay, here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to make good on that little promise of yours, starting today.”

My eyes widened in shock. I’d just been stabbed a few days ago and he wanted me cooking and cleaning? I pointed to my side. “But I’m still recovering—”

“You’re going through withdrawals. The way I see it, you’re well enough to deny food, so you’re well enough to cook and clean. You can start by getting dinner for tonight. If that doesn’t work for you, then I suggest you get the hell out before sundown. The forest is hard enough to navigate during the day. At night, it’ll be damn near impossible.”

He turned to leave again and it took every ounce of strength to swallow my pride. Keeping my eyes focused near the floor, I admitted my fears. “I’m just scared I’ll throw it all up again—the food, I mean.” Under my breath, I added, “And I’m as good as dead out there.”

Charm kept his back to me, but I watched the way his shoulders seemed to tighten. Filled with worry that he may have overheard the end of my sentence, I began stumbling over my words. He left the room mid-sentence, shutting the door quietly behind him.

He was going to find Doc and tell him to gas up the truck so they could take me back; I just knew it. I was busy formulating a plan that didn’t involve me being mauled to death by bears when the door opened and Charm reappeared, carrying a mug of steaming liquid.

He set it down on one of the counters before coming over and untying my bindings. “I think we can let you out of these for the time being, yeah?”

I nodded and slowly pushed myself up into a sitting position, but my muscles protested the movement, having gotten quite comfortable with being strapped down.

We eyed each other warily as he sat back down in the chair and took the mug in his hands. He dipped a small spoon into the liquid and blew gently on it before offering it to me. “Broth—it’ll be easier for your stomach to manage.”

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