Page 79 of Into the Woods

Dad handed me the pills. “Be a good boy and get these to her, would you?” When I didn’t move, he took my hands and wrapped my fingers around the bottle. He turned to walk away.

I lurched forward a step. “Dad.” My voice cracked.

“It’ll take you thirty minutes to get to the airstrip.” He checked his watch. “Flight’s two hours. Another hour to be dropped off at the starting line. Then you just have to get to the cabin where she’s waiting for you. And her medicine.”

I had no words. I knew the exact cabin he was talking about. It was a ninety-minute flight to a private airfield, but the cabin hadn’t been used in recent years except when my brothers had gone through their trials. That was the point: they were left at the base of the mountain with nothing and had a week to make it to the cabin, where they’d find food and water and a satellite phone to call for an airlift out.

There were no trails. No roads. Just dense forest, a few mountain stream runoffs, and some sheer cliffs. If you made a wrong turn, you had to backtrack and find the right way. The fastest anyone had found the cabin was Royal; it had taken him three days and two hours. That beat our father’s previous record of four days and eight hours.

“Oh, wait. You said you had homework, didn’t you? Too bad. I actually just found a bone marrow match for Rebecca. I’m having them flown in from Guatemala in five days. They can do the procedure next week… if she’s back by then.” Dad winked at me.

I wanted to scream. To punch the shit out of him. But none of that would help Becca. I was frozen in place, my mind whirling as I gaped at him.

“Since you’re my son,” he went on, “I arranged for the driver to come back and give you a ride to the airport. If you want to go.” He looked at the Rolex on his wrist. “But I also told him to give you until five to get in the car.”

My gaze swung to the grandfather clock in the entryway. It read 4:58.

I watched as the long hand slid over the 59 notch. I glanced desperately up the stairs, wondering if I had time to pack. To grab my phone and send a text to Mom or—

“Don’t even think about it,” Dad snapped. “One phone call to your mother or anyone else, and Becca will never make it back. And it will be all your fault.”

Shoving the pills in my pocket, I bolted for the door. It took me less than ten seconds to get in the car.

The motherfucker had been right. I’d been heading to the airstrip in less than ten minutes.

CHAPTER 24

BEX

Present Day

I thought I’d seen Court Woods experience every possible emotion—happiness, sadness, fury, playfulness—but I’d never seen him look so ashamed. It made me ache to hug him, to make it all better.

He cleared his throat. “It took me a little over four hours to get to the drop-off spot. And then another four days, twelve hours, and sixteen minutes to find the cabin. The storm that hit came out of nowhere, and I kept getting turned around. I thought I’d never find you… then I heard you screaming.”

A shudder rolled down his frame, his dark eyes full of anguish. “At first I thought it was the wind. When I realized it was you… Becca, I’ll never forget that sound. You aren’t the only one who has nightmares—I have them, too. And in them, I hear that scream. Then it goes quiet, and when I find you, you’re…” He shook his head with a sniff.

“I’m right here,” I reminded him, my voice soft.

“Yeah, but I still close my eyes and see the girl I found. Becca, you were so sick. It took them almost another six hours to get to us because of the storm, and the whole time, all I could do was beg you not to die.”

My eyes widened.

Court’s jaw was tight. “Baby, you were burning up. Then you had a seizure. They didn’t know if you’d survive the medevac flight back to Los Angeles. It took them almost a week to get you stable enough for the transplant.” His eyes drifted shut. “And it was all my fault.”

“What? No, it wasn’t. Court, that was your dad, not you.” I frowned at him, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze, so I tugged on his hair until he looked up.

He shook his head. “He told me that caring about people left you vulnerable, but I never believed it. I mean… Fuck, we were kids.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “We were kids. I can’t believe my dad was part of this.”

He grimaced. “I didn’t know about that until later when I heard our moms fighting. Well, it was more like your mom laying into my mom and threatening to go to the cops.”

“Why didn’t she?” I wondered.

Court looked like he wanted to sidestep the question, but then he sucked in a deep breath. “Fear. My dad threatened your parents. Plus he had the donor lined up for you when you were strong enough… They did what they had to do.”

“It broke their marriage,” I whispered. “And when I came home from the hospital, we moved. I missed being the girl next door.”

---