Page 64 of Tabitha

I stiffen at the thought of sharing something so personal, but maybe it’s for the best. If he runs, then I’ll know he isn’t the right man for me. I need someone who won’t crumble at the first sign of trouble, someone who won’t look at me like I’m a freak or broken.

I’m a survivor.

It’s best he knows now that I’ll do whatever it takes to live.

I blow out a breath, not sure which one of us is really on trial. I’m more nervous about his reaction than about him learning the truth. If he fails, I won’t give him another chance.

And I really don’t want him to fail.

“My earliest memory is when my mother ran away from our cabin when she found out she was pregnant. I was the only one of many children who’d survived. She fled in the middle of the night, unable to take any more loss. My father immediately went after her. They were gone for three days, then he returned alone. He didn’t say anything, but it wasn’t needed. He either killed her, or she died trying to make it off the mountain.

“Her loss hit him hard, and my father decided then to teach me how to survive. After the first few beatings, I became a quick learner. If I wanted food, I hunted or starved. Through trial and error, I learned what plants healed injuries.” I refused to look up at Gage as I speak, staring at his chest instead. Seeing disgust on his face would shatter me.

“I think I was five when I first attempted to run. He caught me within a week and dragged me back, chaining me to a tree. A roof over my head was considered a privilege, one that I had to earn back.” I released a shuddering breath, shaking off my melancholy.

“It was another two years before I decided to run again. My one failed attempt taught me an important lesson—I either had to kill him or wound him enough that I could get a head start. I took my chance when he accidentally left out a loaded shotgun.” I shake my head at my own foolishness, even after all these years.

“My father had the ability to sense danger, much like a sixth sense. Even as I lifted the gun, he turned and charged. The buckshot went wide, getting him in the shoulder. I didn’t wait. I dropped the gun, grabbed my knife, and ran. I lasted three weeks with him hunting me before infection from the chains finally overwhelmed me, and my weakened immune system let through a nasty cold. It was winter, and the plants I needed to heal were dormant. I couldn’t risk going back to the cabin. To survive, I had to make my way toward civilization.

“An old man found me stealing medical supplies at a gas station. I honestly think he saved my life. Instead of turning me over to the cops, my savior took me home and began training me, teaching me how to interact with others.

“He taught me how to survive off the mountain. He gave me rules to follow to help me fit in with others, trying to civilize me as much as he could…not that it helped all that much,” I mutter, giving Gage a wry smile. “I suspect he even went to track down my father at one point. I’m not sure if he succeeded, but my father probably knew it wasn’t safe for him to linger after I escaped.”

I fall silent, shifting uncomfortably at how much I revealed. I hadn’t meant to tell him that much. It was his lack of comments, his lack of judgment, that encouraged me to share more than what was wise.

As the silence stretches, feeling more uncomfortable by the second, I clear my throat and finally glance up at him. “Look, why don’t we just forget—Hey, are you okay? You kind of look funny…all pale with red blotches everywhere.”

I press my palm to his forehead, checking for a fever, then nearly yelp when his arms wrap around me. I stiffen, cursing myself for letting down my guard. Ready to fight back, I wait for him to crush the air from my lungs. My other hand immediately wraps around the hilt of my knife, but when he does nothing threatening, I halt just short of pulling the blade. “Uh, what are you doing?”

A little growl rumbles in his chest. Before I can struggle, he speaks. “I’m giving you a hug.”

I still, feeling even more vulnerable and exposed. “Um, why?”

“Because I need one.” His voice is a low, soft rumble. “And I think you will give the best hugs.”

I contemplate pulling away, but I’m curious about the hug.

I’ve never given a real hug before.

“Okay…walk me through how to give a hug.” Because if I’m going to do it, I’m going to do it right. It’s not like I’ve ever been given a hug, not without wanting to break their bones. I just never saw the point to them.

A rumble fills his chest for a moment, then he hums softly. “Wrap your arms around my waist.”

I nibble on my lip for a moment, then slowly release my blade and wiggle around until my arms are free, then I hesitate and ask, “What if I’m bad at it?”

* * *

GAGE

Fucking hell…

With those simple, innocent words, my heart breaks. The shattered, broken pieces are now hers, and I don’t even bother to fight it.

For the first time in a too long, it feels like I’m finally on the right path.

Because of her.

I now understand River’s obsession with her. I lightly run my fingers up and down her spine, puffing up with pride when she arches into my touch. “Then we’ll start again until we get it right.”

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