Page 772 of Love Bites

CHAPTER2

One by one, Clara removed the boulders from her loot spot, setting them carefully on the dirt beside her. It was good exercise for her arms. She needed to stay strong. Winter was coming soon and she’d have to prepare her body to survive it.

Preparation was key to hermit life.

Squirrels knew what was up, packing away nuts and seeds for the long cold months. She’d learned so much from watching the animals. The bears had it best though, sleeping away the entire season before waking to the lush spring.

If only she were a bear.

She’d been through five winters. This would be her sixth. Hard to believe she hadn’t slept in a real bed, in a home, under a solid roof, for six years.

She paused her digging, letting her reality sink in for a tiny moment. On her own, no family, no friends. No home.

No regrets.

Her lips curved into a smile, and she slowly reached into the crevice between two boulders.

“I see you,” she murmured. “One, two, three, four, five… yep, there you are.”

Her fingers lingered until the small black lizard with five yellow stripes on his back rested his front feet on her.

Clara clicked her tongue lightly, and the lizard slinked forward.

“I wondered where you’d gone, you flighty little reptile.”

There’d been a couple chilly nights already and she’d wondered if her skink had tucked away for the winter. October. She’d seen the calendar during her last loot run. The days were still warm, but the nights brought cool weather. Not cold, but still a stark difference from the hundred degree days she’d grown used to over the summer. If only she had a way to soak up the warmth of the season and store it for winter like she did her other supplies.

The skink quickly slithered up her bare arm and settled on her shoulder, clinging to her tank top strap while Clara went back to digging up the plastic crate she kept her stash in.

When all the rocks were removed, she unlatched the lid and took stock of her supplies. She needed to grab some more socks. And maybe a few more canned goods before it got too cold. But for now, she was going to eat like it was going out of style.

She pulled out five potatoes from the ten pound bag she’d taken from her new gold mine and secured the rest in the plastic bin. Then she collected the butter she’d snuck from the walk-in fridge, a bag of caramels, sour cream and onion Pringles—yum!—and the bars of chocolate. She left her new slippers in the bin. She’d need them soon, but for now they’d keep with her stash.

One more thing.

Digging to the very bottom of the bin, she found a new bar of soap. Clara held it in her palm, debating. This kind was her favorite. It smelled like lavender. And boy would that be helpful right about now. But… she had to think of the future.

If she planned to continue her raids on the lodge, she needed to be a ghost. She couldn’t leave any evidence. Including a scent trail. Because…

There were cat-men running the place. Men who… turned into cats. Not house cats, but big, ferocious, need a lion-tamer cats.

It seemed crazy. It really did. And some days she wondered if her imagination had gone wild, like a shirtless girl on spring break. Maybe six years taking in the wonders of the woods had broken her mind. Whether that was true or not, she’d seen him. A tall, muscled man with bronze hair and pale eyes, stomping through the woods. He’d given a quick glance around to make sure he wasn’t seen, but she was a stealthy observer. Then he’d just… morphed into a massive spotted cat and bounded off in the direction of the river.

And if there was one cat-man, there were more. So, she couldn’t take the chance of them smelling her.

She shook her head, tossing the lavender bar back, and dug deeper for the unscented bar she’d grabbed from the hunters last year, stuffing it into her ragged, threadbare backpack. Carefully, she replaced the rocks that concealed her supply crate and stood.

“You ready, skink?” she asked. “I need a bath like you need another tail.”

He’d lost his recently. Some danger had threatened, and being the amazing creature he was, he gave them the tail—the lizard version of the middle finger, except… he literally gave them the tail. But it’d grow back with time.

She stared at the lizard on her shoulder, but it didn’t talk back. This was a good sign. Perhaps she wasn’t losing her mind after all.

The ten minute trek to the small hot springs she used to bathe wasn’t too hard. She stayed away from the trails, moving through the trees instead, until she was deep into the woods. People ventured this way occasionally, but it was rare. And when they did, it was usually love-stricken couples looking for a remote romantic location. They ignored her and found somewhere else to makeout. Sometimes they reminded her what her life used to be like. What it felt like to touch and be touched. It had been too many years since she’d felt another person’s hands, lips. It would feel foreign and weird now to be kissed now, wouldn’t it?

She turned east, closing in on her destination.

She’d chosen this land as hers because of the no hunting laws. She was aware it was private property, and that she was trespassing. But if they couldn’t find her, they couldn’t kick her out. And she was very, very good at hiding.

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