Page 82 of Reading Between the Lines
Stillness followed the sound, but blood whomped so loudly in my ears that I felt deaf. Air hissed in and out of my lungs.
Tallus squirmed beneath me. “D. You’re crushing me.”
But I couldn’t let go. I had him squeezed in my arms, but uncoiling my muscles was an impossibility. Straining, I listened for the threat, wondering when the next shot would fly and if the first was a warning or a miss.
Wind. The rushing river.
Nothing.
“Diem.”
“Quiet.”
“It was a tree branch. Not a gunshot.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“It was. I swear.”
A tree branch? Where? How? Had it fallen? I scanned the forest and the canopy of bare branches overhead but couldn’t process what he suggested.
“Diem.” Tallus squirmed again, and as my heart rate calmed, I loosened my grip and shifted my weight so he could get up.
On our feet again, I scanned him from head to toe. Apart from flushed cheeks, tousled hair, and crooked glasses, he was in one piece. Filthier, but in one piece.
“Are you sure it was a branch?”
“Yes.” He adjusted his glasses.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here. I feel like I’m walking the razor’s edge of sanity.”
The man with the rifle and dog were out there. I felt it, and the more time that passed, the more I was convinced Tallus was wrong. It was a gunshot. A warning.
A lifetime of being terrorized by my father had given me thick skin and apathy when it came to my emotional and physical well-being. In my teens, I walked a thin line between wanting to live and wanting to die. As an adult, I’d accepted that my life had no value.
But Tallus was a different story. The thought of any harm coming to him annihilated me. Fear was an emotion I’d shucked years ago, but bringing Tallus into these dangerous woods was pushing me into an emotional space I’d never been, and I was angry he didn’t heed my request to stay back.
He returned to the window.
“Come on. I said we’re leaving.”
“But I want to look inside.”
“No, Tallus. We’re fucking done.” I couldn’t rein in the venomous tone. My emotions were well and truly fucked. “The next time a crack rings out, it could mean our fucking brains painting the side of this goddamn cabin.” I slammed a fist against the vine-covered wall, rattling the boards. “And I don’t want to have to explain to your mother that I got you fucking killed. I don’t want to attend a fucking funeral for the first goddamn boyfriend I’ve managed to secure since I was in college. The first man I’ve shared a bed with in… ever.”
Tallus hitched a brow. “Why is it my brains painting the cabin? Why can’t it be your brains?”
“I don’t fucking care about my brains,” I hissed, trying but struggling to keep my volume low. “My brains are meaningless. They’re shit. Ask my father. I care about your beautiful fucking brains. Now move your ass before I throw you over my shoulder and move it for you.”
When he got a lovestruck look in his eyes, I growled and grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the fence and trail while cursing a blue streak. He stumbled after me, chuckling, but I didn’t release him or slow down.
“Diem…”
“Don’t.”
“Aww, babe, are you having feelings again?”
“Shut up, Tallus.”
