14
Hannah
“No!”
I sit up and bang my head on the top of the tent.
That nightmare was horrible.
I don’t think I need the Encyclopedia of Dreams to interpret that one.
A bear attacking my face is pretty straightforward. I’m in danger. Who is the bear? Jack? Or could it be the court system when they find my signature was forged on Ms. Greene’s lawsuit petition?
Nothing I can do about my fraudulent signature on the Tundra.
Now I must focus on the laborious task of getting comfy when sleeping on the ground.
The vinyl tent bottom soaked up the slushy mud, so it’s like sleeping in a puddle.
Jack kept the generator outside with him, blowing hot air into the open wilderness…and he calls me a bubble brain.
What I wouldn’t do for a nest of furs…and a large snow monster to warm my body and surround me with security?! My fingers are icicles. Should I put on my boots? I took them off to preserve the tent—it looks new—but since it’s soaked, should I worry about it?
I’d hate to lose a toe.
The inflated pillows sink in the middle as soon as I lay my head on them.
This tent must have cost Jack a fortune to have inflated pillows and an air circulation channel built into the canvas.
Doesn’t make it comfortable, though.
Whether my cheek or the back of my head is on the pillow, my jaw aches with the pressure. My curved spine hates the flat ground, dotted with pebbles. My cramps should have subsided when my flow increased, but lucky me, the pain persists. It’s worse than when I slept on the bus seats. I had relief when I slept in Gleb’s nest. Of course, he used to rub my belly under my navel to ease the cramping…and he had that tea…
Would Jack rub my belly without asking for sex?
A blast of cold air is my answer as Jack dives into the haphazard sleeping bag.
I unzipped it to make a blanket big enough for us to share, but it wadded into a ball with my tossing and turning.
He lands on my left knee and I clench my teeth together to hold in my scream.
Nothing’s broken, but damn, that hurt! Tears gather in the corners of my eyes. I rub the inside of my knee. There’s a knot. Great, a new bruise…
Gleb will flip when—he’s gone, remember?
If he’s smart, he’s halfway to one of his homes by now.
Without me, he can rejoin his clan.
As Jack fixes the blanket and I play opossum, I spread my energy field with meditative breathing to stop the sobs building in my chest.
I reach for my soul’s tether. If it’s short, I know it’s tied to Jack, but the golden line of energy is as long as I suspected. Deep inside, I know Gleb watches over me…
…and that I should be with him.
First thing in the morning, I’ll tell Jack and we will part ways.
He might be mad at first, but underneath it all, he will be glad to be rid of me, too.
Everyone feels a little relief when I walk out of their life.
I just need to hope Gleb doesn’t reach that stage before I can reunite with him and tell him the truth.
It’s him.
I choose him.
I wanted to be with him when Jack was found alive, but I needed closure.
My intuition loves the idea of reuniting with Gleb, and I fall asleep with a smile on my face—back-to-back with Jack.
Hannah
“Hannah baby, my little bubble brain,”
Jack coos in my ear.
I startle awake from a deep sleep.
“Ha, you’re awake now.
Can you feel how much I missed you?”
He pokes his erection into my hip.
Panic seizes my heart.
I can’t have sex with him.
My heart can’t do it when I’ve made up my mind to leave him.
“Jack—”
“Yeah, that’s it.
Say my name,”
he whispers, grinding harder against me.
He rolls me onto my side.
I can’t make myself heavy enough to stop him.
He overpowers my resistance. I’ve refused before with gestures but ended up having sex with him after he persisted. I must use my words. No matter how many times I’ve pushed him away, I’ve never said no out loud.
I shudder with revulsion.
“Jack, I can’t—”
It’s like his hands have multiplied.
I’m groped and yanked until his hard-on is wedged against my butt.
My hips scoot forward, but he follows, bumping me each time.
I’ve never been so thankful to fall asleep wearing my bra in my entire life. Anything to add more layers between us. His left hand snakes down my pants. I clamp my thighs shut.
“No.
Jack, I mean it.
I’m not in the mood.
We need to talk—”
I roll my shoulders forward and cross my arms over my chest, so he can’t reach my breasts.
“All we do is talk.
I missed you, baby.
It’s been hard without you.”
“I said no!”
“Oh gross! What the hell are you wearing? You’re furry and damp.
Did you kill an animal and stuff it down your pants?”
He takes the blanket with him when he jumps to his side of the tent.
“Kinda,”
I say with a sigh of relief.
My scary period will keep him away until I reunite with Gleb, and then Gleb will protect me.
Jack will never touch me again.
“I’m wearing a maxi pad made out of a rabbit pelt. I probably need to change it, because I wore it most of the day yesterday and all night.”
“Your period? Now? I thought women didn’t bleed when stressed in extreme situations! That’s what you said when the MGM Christmas party freaked you out.
Your period was late, but you wouldn’t take a pregnancy test.
You said stress made it late.
How were you so comfortable in the elements that your cycle functioned?”
“The party’s stress and the Arctic’s stress are a little different,”
I reply, rolling over to face him.
He wipes his fingers on my shirt, and I don’t even care.
Whatever stopped his assault is a prize I’ll gladly showcase on my shoulder.
“I’m happy up here. I don’t like the spotlight or associating with people connected to my parents.”
“What’s wrong with you? You know what a normal person would do to be in your family?”
“Trust me, my parents are just as unhappy when we’re together.
I’m the embarrassment, remember?”
“I think they’ve changed their tune.
They’ve put a pretty penny up for anyone who finds you.
Parents who hate their kids don’t offer six figures to find them—”
“My parents, what?!”
I sit up suddenly and bump my head a second time.
Hunched over and rubbing the tender spot, I reach for my right boot.
“Let’s call them.
They don’t need to attract a bunch of weirdos and gold-diggers to the Arctic. Imagine the cameras!”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,”
Jack whispers between shushes.
He grabs my hand to stop me from putting on my boot.
I yank it back and bare my teeth.
At least he has the decency to retreat. “I’ve already called your parents. They’re sending a helicopter—”
“I don’t want their helicopter! I wanted to tell you more gently, but I think I want to stay here.
I love the primitive lifestyle.
I love the peace.”
I clamp my lips closed before I can mention Gleb or his clan.
“I think this is where we part ways.”
“You don’t mean it,”
Jack snaps.
“That’s your period bitchiness talking.
You get this way every month.
I can’t even dick you into a better mood, either. I just have to tough it out—”
“This is the last time, so—”
“Never,”
he sneers.
“Even if this is what you really want—and it’s not just your hormones making you hysterical—you must move out of your place.
Let’s reunite with the real world and you decide in your warm bed or bathtub in your apartment.”
“No,”
I say, scooting further away until my back hits the support post.
“We will part ways and I will return north to the site of the bus crash.
I know where there is shelter in the rocks.
I’ll be quite happy. You can tell my parents I’m fine.”
“Aaah,”
he says, patting my cheek.
“I get it.
You’re mourning that brat.
Ms. Greene took that poopsack back to the States. She fired you so fast—don’t look shocked. She’s pissed you disappeared. If you want a baby, let’s make one. You know I’d make a great dad.”
“No, no, I’m good,”
I say, pressing his shoulders back to counter his attempt to kiss me.
“Well, I know we can’t right now—not when you’ve got a carcass in your pants,”
he says with a shiver that rocks the tent.
“You know what?”
I rub my eyes in mortification and frustration.
Why does the Universe punish us? He’s about to feel a lot more blood if he didn’t bring feminine hygiene products.
“I’m on the verge of breaking through my furry pad and these are my only clothes.
Do you have an extra outfit I can borrow? I say borrow, but I mean destroy and reimburse you for the damages.”
“Gross! You can’t be serious—”
The horrified look on his face is comical.
“I am serious—”
“No way,”
he says with a second tent-rocking shiver.
“I’ll give you something after your ordeal is over.
We will burn your clothes before boarding the helicopter.”
He runs a proprietary palm over my breasts but stops at my waistband.
I lean away and glare, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
He’s too busy pulling a disgusted face.
Ordeal.
I can’t even.
I giggle.
I can’t help it. The thought of him being too grossed out to assault me further sends me into a fit of nervous giggles. He doesn’t want to handle my bloody clothes. My scent will attract every predator in Canada before he realizes the danger he could have prevented. I must smoke or bury these clothes.
“Ha ha, yuck it up,”
he says, throwing his hands in the air and smacking the top of the tent.
“I bet you bled on purpose.”
“What? How? Why would I bleed on purpose?”
I snort through my giggles.
He thought I was a bubble brain—when he thinks I can turn my period on and off like a facet?
“You know how many times I asked for a baby.
Seeing you care for the poopsack drove me crazy with desire.
I’d love to pump you full my—”
“Okay, I get the picture,”
I say, covering my ears.
Was he always this ridiculous? “I have no control over my period.
If you find my period so gross, how are you going to handle childbirth or parenting? You know what? Don’t answer that.
It’s none of my business.”
“Why?”
“Look, I’m sorry you thought we would co-parent or get married or whatever.
Thank you for chasing me up here and for the good times we had, but I’m going to need my key to my apartment back.”
“Why? Change your mind about the Arctic? If you’re staying up here, you’ll never be at your California place.
I could watch over it for you.
You know you trust me.
Why must we end things because you want to stay here for a while? Once an actual winter hits, this won’t look like a paradise. You will want somewhere and someone to come home to. That’s me.”
My jaw drops.
The revelation hits my intuition like a meteor.
When I dated Jack, he never felt like home.
His affection felt like what I received in my childhood. I repeated the pattern because it was familiar. My time with Gleb felt like home. He never asked me for anything—not money, not sex, and not to be photographed. He didn’t care about mythical internet points fueled by social clout. Gleb doesn’t use money.
He loved me for me.
What I love most about him is the middle finger he gave his old life to follow me around the Arctic when I was lost.
Jack followed me up here too—but to what end? It wasn’t love…was it the promised reward money? Was it our cushy life in LA? Jack has a million reasons to pursue me that have nothing to do with me.
I’m more trouble to Gleb than I’m worth, but he didn’t care.
I was enough…or what we felt when we were together was enough. He made sure I always felt like I had a home….and I was too stupid to realize it.
“I love him.”
“Him? Him, who? Me?”
“No, the man in the fursona,”
I say with a giddy giggle.
“I love him!”
I pull from Jack’s locked arms and stomp my foot into my right boot.
When he sits up to block the door, I push his shoulder with my left boot.
We fight over the zipper while Jack spews nonsense about our star charts aligning.
Just because Jack’s a Libra doesn’t mean he’s the man for me. Geminis match with Libra, Scorpio, or Sagittarius. Hell, there are a lot of Scorpios in the world than Libras because Valentine’s Day falls in their conception window. More importantly, I’ve guessed Gleb is every sign on the zodiac wheel, and at the end of the day, I don’t care.
I love how he treats me…and how he makes me feel.
My home is with him.
“You would leave me for some fantasy man?”
“Yep,”
I say, pulling down the zipper.
“You say I make stupid decisions.
Just chalk this up as another one.”
Freezing rain smacks me.
The heat from inside the tent flees into the night.
My bootless left foot steps into the frozen mud.
Wasn’t that a slushy puddle before the sun went down? The rain shifts to blow horizontally, as if the clouds aim for my face. I turn away, but the needles of sleet pierce my ears. Now I know what the frozen vegetables feel like after I leave them to die by freezer burn.
But the stars are out.
Billions of twinkling stars with cosmic dust within the constellations shine over my head.
A weight drops onto my chest.
I want to experience this with Gleb so badly, it hurts. I can name constellations and tell him what our next day holds. Instead of just taking his kindness, I can contribute something. More than anything, I want to be his partner. After a dating history of boyfriends draining me, I’m the drain on Gleb. Will he teach me to do the chores he hates if I ask? I’d do anything to make his life easier—even if it is skinning snakes or harvesting spider hairs.
Starting now.
“Gleb, Gleb!”
I call into the thicket in front of the tent.
“Gleb! Gleb!”
I call toward our camp.
The wind whips smoke from all directions, so I can’t tell if he built a fire somewhere or if the whole stand of birch trees is on fire. “Gleb!”
“Hannah, stop! Hannah, it’s not safe,”
Jack says, as he puts his hands on my shoulders.
I snap and twist to dislodge his hands and hobble closer to the thickest smoke.
Gleb said my clothes must be smoked to cover the scent of my blood.
I can’t prove it, but I’d bet my last dollar that he lit a ring of fires to protect me.
“Hey, I know we aren’t an item anymore, but I still care about you.
How about we sleep this off? Tomorrow, we clean up camp and find your furry.
Okay? Can this wait until we have daylight and some rest? Please?”
“You’re the bubble brain if you think you can lock me in your tent—”
“Would your furry dude want you wandering the Arctic in the dark, smelling like steak night at a dodgy diner?”
Jack’s right.
How many times did I catch Gleb scouting for wolves? Are we north enough to be bothered by polar bears? I wait for Jack to enter the tent before scanning the trees one last time—just in case Gleb hid from him.
No movement.
Straining my hearing against the pounding of icy pellets on my clothes, I can’t hear him either.
In a few more hours, I will find him.
Climbing into the tent smacks of defeat, but Gleb will be at our campsite tomorrow.
I know it.
He’s probably dug a hole to sleep in an insulated structure instead of a flimsy tent…or maybe he knows of another abandoned cavern somewhere. Thinking about him swimming in a heated pool, surrounded by crystals, will give me sweet dreams.
Tomorrow they will become my reality.
Let’s manifest that.