Chapter 11 – Nathan
CHAPTER 11
NATHAN
I should be tired…
The sky changed from black to blue, and the morning sun cast its golden glow over her perfect skin. I should be beyond exhausted, but somehow I felt for the first time, in a long time, I was waking up.
Everything I’d thought was so important before, everything I thought made me, me … the career, my plane, even the missions that we buried ourselves in over and over... none of it carried the weight of a feather now.
Why do I feel so... light all of a sudden?
For no reason at all, I remembered how my grandad was a submariner...
That my dad was a gunner.
It only made sense that I took things one step further.
I was never good enough for Pops when he was alive, but I thought if I worked hard enough and lived the life he wished he had, wherever he was in the afterlife, he’d be proud of me.
Somehow, life just veered in a whole different direction.
When Emma looked at me, none of that mattered.
She whimpered in her sleep, pooching her bottom lip out, and it felt like my heart cracked right down the middle.
I felt her wake up, shaking off whatever bad dream she was having.
Being near her felt like I was on some kind of crazy drug. Suddenly, I could do anything, be anyone, destiny be damned.
My father was a tough man to love, and he raised me believing that I too would be lucky to die a hero's death–just like his dad.
I think his biggest regret was surviving the war.
I told myself I'd live a different life, that I would never repeat his destructive patterns.
But some days, well... I just didn't care if I had the same patterns or not.
All of us at TAPs had been through the worst kinds of hell on earth a hundred times over and come out the other side with our heads screwed on straight. Well, mostly straight.
There isn't a single one of us who hasn't been in a dozen situations we didn’t think we’d make it out of.
But with Emma, this was all new territory. Somehow, she managed to laugh off horrifying situations like they were nothing. That kind of composure takes guts I’d only ever seen in seasoned professionals. I guess Emma and Jax have that in common… although she’s a hell of a lot cuter.
She looked at me, sweat glistening on her collarbones as she pulled her hair behind her ear.
I fear I don't stand a chance against this girl that has me by the heartstrings.
If I'm not careful, things will get ugly real fast.
Transfixed by how damn beautiful she was, I almost missed the two yellow eyes lurking in the bushes behind her.
My blood ran cold, and the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Don’t look at it… I told myself.
I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes fixed on her.
As my expression changed, her soft smile faded and her eyebrows pinched together. “What’s wrong?”
I reached for my knife.
“Emma…” I swallowed again, my voice barely a whisper. “Very slowly, I need you to move toward the boat.”
Her eyes instinctively started to search the trees around us, but I knew that making eye contact would trigger the cat to charge.
“Don’t–”
Sweat beaded up on my forehead as the cat crouched and readied itself for action in my periphery vision. “Just keep your eyes on the water and very slowly, get on the raft and push off.”
“Push off? You. You. What about you?” She mouthed, stiffly moving toward the shore, her movements jerky and unnatural.
I unfolded my knife and took it in my right hand as I demanded slow, controlled breaths from my chest.
The cat studied us, then fixated on Emma.
The air thickened with tension.
Each second felt like an eternity, my pulse pounding in my ears.
I could feel the cat's predatory gaze locked on her, the weight of its presence pressing down like the force of a hurricane.
Emma's foot slipped on a loose rock, and she stumbled at the water's edge, her eyes widening in panic.
My heart leaped into my throat.
The cat’s shoulders shimmied, and I knew it was springing into action. There’s no avoiding it.
This is going to happen.
“Go!” I belted out at the top of my lungs, raising my arms as I darted between the cat and Emma, my feet struggling to get traction in the sand.
I foolishly hoped I could startle it, that the animal would run away with no harm done.
Sprinting to intercept the leaping cat, its powerful paws tore up the earth with each swift, predatory stride.
I feebly scrambled to place myself between Emma and the impending attack.
The orange-patterned cat lept with its claws extended, daggers destined for Emma's precious flesh.
A blur knocked the wind out of me as the cat's momentum connected with me, bringing me and the cat crashing to the ground.
I instinctively raised my hands to protect my face before it could rip it off, and the cat sank its teeth deep into my arm, causing my hand to relinquish control of my knife.
I lay flat on my back, still holding my arms in front of my face, praying it would stay focused on me long enough for Emma to get away.
As wet blood ran down my arm, I scrambled to get my knife with my other hand.
The cat dug its teeth in deeper and tried to yank my arm away with the whole heft of its muscular body.
Is this what you wanted, Pops? Death from above?
The weight of the cat pressed on my solar plexus and abdomen, refusing to let me take a breath.
Did I make you proud!?
If I couldn't do something to slow this animal down, there's nothing to stop it from stalking Emma all the way to the coast.
I feared the promise of the raft bringing her to safety was just a lie to keep us both calm.
A part of me buckled under the cat's weight, my generational destiny started to feel quite real.
I decided to tussle with this thing as long as I could to give her a chance to get away, no matter how much of me was ripped apart in the process.
I dug deep.
I roared at the cat as though I was a hungry, deranged beast too.
Hell, maybe I am.
Spittle flew out my mouth, hitting the cat's nose and falling back upon my chest with mingled cat drool, human sweat, and my own blood.
I summoned the remaining energy in my core to make a last stand.
Every muscle in my core clenched as I tried to sit up and get this thing off my chest.
The cat pushed back right back, keeping me pinned to the ground.
I heaved once more, my abs burning from the strain, but the beast kept me pinned, waiting for my energy to subside, a futile resistance to teeth that were moments away from reattaching to my neck.
I swallowed deeply, accepting my fate.
SEAL training aside, my battle with a well-trained, hungry predator had become an impossible fight.
I punched at its neck with no affect.
I gripped its eye, but pushing inward had no effect.
I kicked its side with my knee, but it replied by gripping its rear claws into my side, meeting my effort with ten times the pain than I had doled out.
This is it.
I'm done.
We're done.
I half-heartedly flailed at where I thought my knife was one last time, feeling only sand and pebbles.
Sand and pebbles.
Our night by the fire.
Deeply and profoundly, I broke inside.
A tear formed in the corner of my eye.
A blood-curdling, high-pitched war cry filled the forest.
Something jolted the animal with a WHACK, and I could feel its mouth loosen up just a bit.
I looked up through sandy, teary eyes and saw a blurry figure above.
Someone bore down on the cat's head with a dried branch, the one she was supposed to be steering herself to safety with.
Again and again they beat on the cat, a high-speed metronome of punishment that somehow wasn’t making it through to the big cat's brain.
They hit me once across the knuckles once, but the pain felt like a bump compared to claws.
They kept beating the living hell out of the leopard’s head with practically no effect.
"Go for the eyes! The eyes!" I heard someone say. Was that my voice?
They adjusted their next swing and connected with something that struck the beast to its core.
The stunned feline snarled and shook its head. It ripped its teeth across my arm as it released me, its deadly grip leaving behind a bloody mess of puncture wounds, torn muscle tissue, and sore tendons as it scrambled back into the bushes.
The world spun as I sucked in a breath of air, turning to my side and coughing into the dirt.
The dark silhouette crouched over me, the morning sun illuminating the fly-away edges of her hair like an auburn halo.
For a second, I thought angels were visiting the dead—namely me.
As the adrenaline faded, a crushing pain bit deeper into my arm. Nope… I'm still alive… very alive…
I forced myself to inhale again, my lungs burning with the effort.
Their face finally became clear.
Emma’ looked down at me, worry and determination washing over her face as she came into focus.
“I told you to get on the raft,” I rasped, managing a weak smile despite the searing pain.
“And leave you to play hero? Not a chance,” she shot back, a quick laugh breaking through streaming tears.
I forced myself to inhale again. Ow… Shit.
“I’m okay.” I managed to get out as I sat up. She put an arm around my shoulders.
“You’re bleeding.” She sniffled. “We need to clean it, and… and wrap it, right?”
“Yeah.” I slowly nodded.
Her glazed-over eyes locked to mine.
She wrapped her arms around me and kissed my neck at least a dozen times.
She pulled back, cupped my face in her hands, and kissed me hard.
She gulped and let out, "Okay. We got this."
Rushing down to the water’s edge, she pulled one of the legs she’d cut off her slacks out of her bra and started to wash it.
“The fabric is kinda stretchy.” She cleared her throat, pulling herself together as she came back to my side. “This should put some pressure on it too. Do you have any gauze left?”
“In my right pocket.” I reached down and unbuttoned the pocket of my cargo pants, and she fished out the antibiotic ointment, squirting it into the four holes left by the cat’s teeth.
“Did you just fight a leopard to save me?” I blinked, as she slid the makeshift compression bandage onto my arm.
She chuckled, but tears kept trailing down her cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
“You are one Bad. Ass . Bitch. ” I held up my fist, and she rolled her eyes, bumping her fist against mine. “This’ll be a cool story later, trust me.”
“Dropping acid at the Louvre is a cool story.” She helped me to my feet. “ This was a fucking nightmare, and after we get home, we’ll never have to think about it again.”
We. I like it when she says... "we."
“That doesn’t seem like a very healthy coping mechanism there, Doc.” I shook the dust out of my hair as I picked up my knife and shambled down to the water’s edge. “Did you really do acid at the Louvre?”
“Shut your face.” She smirked and shook her head.
"You ready to get out of here, darlin'?"
Emma looked behind her, scanning the area for the cat one last time.
"You bet your ass, Nathan."
Launching our little raft into the cool water, we sat cross-legged with her at the front and me at the back. Even after getting bit, I was still able to make a fist with my right hand, meaning two things; there's no major ligament or muscle damage, and I could steer the boat. Nothing would have made me feel like a bigger sack of shit than making her paddle my ass all the way to the coast.
As the river wound lazily through the trees, Emma smiled in the sunshine, seemingly enchanted by the world. Meanwhile, all I could look at was her . I should have been looking for crocs or alligators, but only two words dominated my thoughts.
I’m screwed…
If I thought I had it bad before she beat the living shit out of a leopard like the majestic Valkyrie she is, I'm beyond hooked now.
I wished I could imagine a world where Jax would just be happy for us and wish us well, but the man knew me too well. He’s the one who scolded me for how I blew off women he didn’t even know, so there wasn’t a chance in hell I wasn’t, at the very least, getting a good ass-kicking and quite possibly losing my best friend.
The stakes have never been as high as they are now.
I’ve never loved a woman in the way that made me want to try before.
Still, the thought of messing this up was the most terrifying thing I’d ever felt.