Page 27 of Force of Nature

“To call the Park Service. We have to report this.”

I almost lost my breakfast. The thought of relaying all the terrifying, disgusting, and embarrassing details to a stranger made me feel sick. Realistically, I knew my dad was right. Our DNA was all over the campsite and the fire tower, not to mention the bodies of the men who attacked us. As much as I wanted to leave it all behind and forget, it wouldn’t look right to the investigators if we left Wyoming without saying anything.

We hiked in silence, stopping only to filter and refill our water bottles. Neither of us was in a particularly talkative mood. I got the feeling we were both trying to process the last twenty-four hours now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Afternoon bled into evening. We picked a random spot at sundown and set up the tents but didn’t start a fire. Technically, boondocking—camping on public land outside of a designated campground—wasn’t allowed in Yellowstone, but recent events had obviously messed with our itinerary. We wanted to cover as much ground as quickly as possible and get back to the ranger station. And if we happened to attract the attention of a ranger out on patrol? Even better.

I made it twenty-three minutes by myself in my own tent the first night before I begged my dad to join me. I didn’t plan to have sex with him again. It just happened. Pressed up against him in the dark, listening to the rain patter on the rainfly, I felt his cock harden against my hip through his clothing. Simply knowing he was aroused made my clit pulse and my insides tighten. I slid my hand along his abdomen and kissed his neck. He tensed for a moment before reaching down to tease me through my leggings while I rubbed him. Soon, our tongues were tangled like our clothing at the base of the tent.

“Oh god… It’s too good,” I huffed, as his fingers curled inside me while his thumb simultaneously caressed my swollen clit.

“Do you want me to stop?”

I shook my head. I didn’t care how wrong it was. It felt right at that moment to be pinned between the hard ground and my dad’s long, thick fingers. My hand tightened around his cock as he thrust into my fist. He made me come twice that night, once on his fingers and then again while taking me from behind.

We didn’t even bother setting up the second tent the next night.

My anxiety spiked when we finally reached the ranger station. I knew I would have to talk about what happened that night. The ranger working the front desk looked horrified at the sight of my dad’s bruised face, and her reaction only intensified as we told her the highlights of our story.

We might have left a few things out…

The ranger called an ambulance, and we were taken to the nearest hospital. There were more questions there, as doctors examined our wounds and park police from the Investigative Service Branch of the National Park Service showed up. Dad’s wounds were worse than mine. I managed to get out of this with just a few scrapes and bruises, mostly from my naked run through the woods. Even my altercation with Duke on the tower hadn’t resulted in more than a split lip that had pretty much healed on the hike back to the station.

We told the park police what had happened, including the parts about them forcing us to have sex with each other. I knew they were going to want to collect evidence from our bodies and I didn’t want to risk them finding my dad’s semen and thinking the worst.

I was quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of people fluttering around us, taking my dad’s vitals and asking us the same questions, over and over again. Dad had to stay in the hospital for a few days because the doctors were concerned about his head wound, plus dehydration and exhaustion. I slept in a chair beside his hospital bed. No matter how hard he tried to convince me to get a hotel room, I refused to be apart from him. I was still scared, even though I knew that the men who had hurt us were all dead. The park police had recovered their bodies within a day of our report—

Well, most of their bodies. Apparently, all they could find of Martin was a single hiking boot floating in a hot spring.

Strangely, I didn’t start to really feel ashamed until I saw the looks on the hospital staff’s faces. How disgusting, they must have thought. How traumatic to be forced to have sex with your own father. The fact that I refused to leave his bedside seemed to confuse them. I saw more than one of the nurses giving him side-eye, as if they didn’t believe he could have physically performed the act unless he wanted to hurt me. Never mind that he was also a victim.

After four days, the hospital finally released him, and the park police gave us the okay to return home, warning us that they might call if they had further questions. At first, it had seemed as if they didn’t fully believe our story. But something my dad overheard the men saying about other victims in Death Valley had helped point the investigators to another unsolved murder case, plus a slew of similar disappearances in parks around the country.

The thought that we could have met a similar fate if my dad hadn’t done what was necessary to save us gave me the strength to endure the looks of pity as I dozed in a chair beside the man who had fought and killed for me.

* * *

We madethe eight-hour drive back to Washington in my dad’s car, arriving in Walla Walla just as the sun was going down.

That first night, I tried to sleep in my bedroom, but I tossed and turned. Every bump in the night was Duke trying to break in. Every shadow, Zeb’s ghost, coming to choke me again. I knew they weren’t really there, but it still didn’t feel right to be by myself, not when my dad was asleep on the other side of the wall. I tiptoed into his bedroom, the only place where I felt safe. I slipped under the covers and slept in his arms.

Nothing else happened between us that night. We were both exhausted and emotionally raw.

The next morning, over breakfast, he suggested that we both look into seeing a therapist to help us work through our trauma. After telling our story a dozen times to the police, I wasn’t ready to relive it all again so soon. But I promised I’d think about it because I knew my dad was worried about me.

“It would be good for you to talk to someone before you leave for school,” he said.

My piece of toast froze halfway to my mouth. On the long drive home, I decided for myself that I wasn’t ready to jump into full-time coursework, especially if it meant living so far away from my dad.

“Actually, I was thinking I’d defer until next semester, and maybe look for a school closer to home.”

“Why would you want to do that?” He squinted at me as if I were a complicated logic problem.

I set the piece of toast back on my plate, my appetite thoroughly quashed. “I guess I’m just not ready.”

He nodded like he understood my reasoning. Then he said, “I don’t think you should be making any big decisions yet. You’ve still got a few weeks left ’til move-in day.”

My hand shook as I reached for my cup of lukewarm coffee. How did we end up back here after everything we’d been through? Was he really that eager to be rid of me?

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