Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Cat
I ’ve died and gone to hell. That’s the first thing I think when I wake up naked beneath a scratchy quilt as the bane of my existence stands before a roaring fire in nothing but his boxer briefs. His back is to me, and the fire provides the only light. Bright oranges and yellows catch and cling to his outline, hugging the round curves of his shoulder muscles and dripping down to his thick forearms.
My pussy clenches, and I want to scream.
“Come away from the fire, Beelzebub,” I croak. “You’re blocking all the heat with your massive head.”
As he turns to face me, he seems to breathe a sigh of relief, but it’s probably just the way the light dances over his very full, very sculpted chest.
Why am I looking at his chest ?
I clear my throat and try to sit up, but a sharp pain thuds in my head and keeps time with my heartbeat. “Fuck, my brain hurts.”
“You’d have to have a brain for it to hurt.” He goes behind the couch and returns with a warm mug, which he places in my hands and doesn’t release until he’s sure I’ve got it.
I tip the mug toward my face and inhale. Steam rises into my nostrils, but I can’t discern the scent.
“It’s chicken broth. You had two mugs about an hour ago, though you were pretty out of it.”
“Is it drugged?” I ask with a curl of my lip. I still haven’t forgotten that. “And there aren’t any...special ingredients?”
I haven’t forgotten that , either.
“No, kitten . Now drink your broth like a good little girl. If you finish all of it, I might even make something for you to eat.”
“Shorty...” I say, remembering my beloved pet when he calls me kitten. “I have to feed him. His bowl has probably been empty for hours, and his blood sugar could drop.”
“I’ve seen your cat. He can stand to step away from the table tonight.”
“He’s fluffy.”
Bennett’s eyebrows rise. “If you say so.”
“This. This is why we can’t get along. You don’t have a feeling bone in your body.”
He scoffs and heads behind the couch again. “Says the woman whose life I saved. Twice.”
I’m about to close my mouth and admit defeat when I remember that we wouldn’t be in this predicament to begin with if it weren’t for him.
“I’m not the one who decided to play Alaska Chainsaw Massacre,” I quip, though I’m not sure if he heard me. My voice sounds like I gave sloppy toppy to a fucking Dalek. “You’re the villain in this story, not me.”
Something clangs behind me. “No, please don’t cast me in my favorite role,” he pleads.
I roll my eyes and tip the mug to my lips. If I want to get out of here, I’ll need my strength, drugs and demon seed be damned.
When I lower the mug, that’s when I notice the red fabric lying on the floor beside the couch. I reach down to pick it up, and the cotton is enough to make my fingers ache. I let out a yelp and drop the scrap of fabric before I can figure out what it is.
“The frostnip on your hands was pretty bad,” Bennett says as he sits beside me. “Buy better gloves next year. And scoot over. You’ve hogged the couch for hours.”
I set the mug on the coffee table in front of the couch. More of that red fabric lies scattered around the floor, and it looks so familiar. I just can’t?—
“Bennett! You ripped off my fucking clothes ? My sweaters? Everything?” I wrap the scratchy quilt tighter against my skin and wish I sounded more threatening. No one takes you seriously when you sound like Bobcat Goldthwait.
“No, I only cut the ugly long johns, but even if I had destroyed your precious sweaters, you were soaking wet! Would you have preferred that I let you freeze to death? I was busy saving you, remember?”
“Wait, you didn’t save us. I did!”
He tips his head back and laughs. “Ha! Like hell you did. You just lay there and moaned. That’s probably how you are in the sack, too. A fucking dead-fish lay.”
“If the women you fuck aren’t very enthusiastic, look inward, jackass. And yes, I saved us. You walked by the trail to the cabin three times. I only spoke up because I was trying to help you.”
“And then you collapsed immediately after and made me carry you through the woods. Yeah, such a big fucking help.”
I’ve had about all I can stand. On shaking legs, I get to my feet and look for a place to go, but this appears to be the only room.
The kitchen area takes up the cabin’s back wall. The fireplace, dwindling firewood, and stacks of green Army cots take up the front wall. To the right is the exit, and to the left, there are two doors. One appears to lead outside, and I can only hope the other leads to a bathroom.
“Nowhere to run to this time,” Bennett says. “Better settle in and accept your fate.”
Our clothes lie on the hearth. If I can at least cover my breasts and stubbly pussy, I’ll feel a little better. I didn’t shave this morning because I didn’t think anyone would be looking between my legs today. Let this be a lesson in preparedness.
“I’m getting dressed and going for the snowmobile in the morning,” Bennett says. “You should relax for right now. There’s nothing to be done.”
I snatch up my bra and panties and put on some armor before I turn to face him. “Why wait until morning? The sun won’t be up until after ten, and I won’t survive until then.”
“I’ll chop some more firewood so we won’t freeze.”
“I wasn’t worried about freezing.” I snatch up my sweater and groan when I think about going back into that cold.
Bennett stands up and joins me in front of the fireplace. He grabs his pants in a huff and begins putting them on. “Fine. If you must be a nagging bitch about it, I’ll go right now.”
He zips up his pants, stuffs his hands into the pockets, and... his eyes widen. His hands move to his rear pockets, and I don’t know how it’s possible, but his eyes widen even further. If he endures much more shock, I fear they’ll fall out of his head.
“Don’t tell me you lost the fucking keys to the snowmobile.” I drop the sweater back to the hearth, but I don’t take my eyes away from Bennett.
He shakes his head and starts removing his pants again. “No, the pants are still damp. They need to dry a little more before I set out. Besides, you need to eat. I’m surprised you can even stand up right now.”
As he tosses the pants back to the hearth, I hear a reassuring jingle when they land on the stones. What isn’t reassuring is the sudden wave of dizziness that sweeps over my brain like a fog.
I step toward the couch, and the darkness gives way to a fuzzy white light. Sound fades away, and I can’t tell if I’m standing or falling. No, I’m definitely falling. That’s the floor, and it’s getting closer.
Arms wrap around me before I strike the ground. Bennett lifts me into his arms as if I’m made of paper. I feel like I’m made of paper. He could fold me up so small that I would just disappear.
He places me on the couch and covers me with the horrid quilt again, though I can hardly feel it. It’s more like a faraway memory.
“You have to rest,” he says, and there isn’t a mean bite to his tone now. His voice is like honey. It glides over my skin, warm and smooth, seeping into secret places like a balm. “Just stay here and let me make something for you to eat. You need some calories.”
I hate that he’s right, but he is. I didn’t eat anything for dinner, breakfast, or lunch. On top of the dehydration and hypothermia, I’ve seriously put my body through some shit today.
“Maybe Kindra and Ezra will come for us tonight,” I say as I settle into the quilt. The dizziness has finally passed, but I still feel hazy.
Another pot clangs.
I wince. “What are you cooking, anyway? I can’t imagine there’s much here.”
“Just sit there and sip your broth like a good girl.”
God, he’s the worst.
“Is there any alcohol?” I ask as I stare into the almost empty mug. “A spot of something strong would be good right now.”
“There’s a surprising amount of alcohol in these cabinets, but you’re too dehydrated to drink any of it right now.”
“Since when do you care if I give myself the worst hangover known to man?” I peer at him over the back of the couch when he doesn’t answer. “Aw, does Bennett have a wittle crush on Cat?” I say. The goal is to annoy him to the point that he plays waiter and brings me the booze. “Are you doing a big protect with your alpha-dog energy?”
“You know what? Fuck you.” Bennett slams the wooden spoon onto the counter, rips open a cabinet (literally), and grabs the neck of a glass bottle. Then he stomps over and holds it toward me. “If you want to make yourself sick, be my guest, but when the sun comes up tomorrow, I’m leaving. With or without you.”
If he thinks I’m opening this myself, he has lost his mind. I look up at him and wait.
Bennett jiggles the bottle and raises his eyebrows. “Cat, do you want the booze or do you not want the booze?”
I bat my eyelashes and form the perfect pout with my lips.
“How many times has that actually worked for you?” He sets the bottle on the coffee table and walks away.
With a huff, I lean forward and grab the frigid glass. I guess I can’t win all the time. But as I try to peel the plastic from the bottle’s neck, a fiery pain rockets through my fingertips when they touch the icy glass. The bottle slides from my hands and clatters to the floor. I let out a yelp when I flex my fingers. It feels as if they’re splitting open.
Before I can register what’s happening, Bennett is beside me. He takes my hands in his and begins checking them over.
“Can you come closer to the fire?” he asks. “I can’t see over here.”
I nod, and he helps me up. At first, I’m worried he’s just pretending to be nice so that he can push me into the fire. He’ll tell everyone I tripped and that he did what he could to save me. But then he says something I don’t expect.
“You aren’t pretending to be hurt so you can push me into the fire, are you?”
I cough to cover the laugh that tries to escape my chest. “No. If I wanted to attack you, the bottle would have been better than trying to push your big head into the fire. You’d just clog the chimney.”
The hearth is too warm to sit on comfortably, so we kneel together in front of the fireplace. He turns my fingers toward the flames, and even the minimal heat feels like I’m fingering Satan’s asshole.
“Ow,” I whisper as I pull away.
“Was that too hot?”
I nod. “Yeah, but only on the fingertips.”
He lets out a deep sigh. “You’ve done some damage, but you’ll heal fine with rest. Get back on the couch. I’ll open the fucking bottle.”
I wish this felt more like a win. Instead, I shuffle back to the couch feeling...strange. Even as I settle in and Bennett shoves the open bottle into my hands, I still can’t process what just happened. He was so kind. And gentle. He heard my whimper, and he rushed to find the snake that bit me.
He wanted to protect me.
If Maverick has golden retriever energy, then Bennett is a purebred German shepherd.
Careful to keep my fingertips away from anything and everything, I tip the bottle against my lips and take a small swig. Since I don’t often drink, I can’t place the type of liquor, but it burns like fire on the way down.
“Is there any more broth?” I rasp.
“No, but I have some warm water.”
I pop a thumbs-up over the side of the couch and dare to take another swig from the bottle of doom. Fire races through my insides. As does all that broth I had earlier. Jesus, when did my bladder start taking percussion lessons?
“Hey, Benny Bear? I gotta piss.”
He chuckles to himself before he says, “Sucks to be you, kitten . The outhouse is about twenty feet away from the cabin, and you ain’t making that walk in your prissy panties.”
“An outhouse? Ugh.” I take another swig for strength. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“Lay down some of those newspapers in the corner and let her rip.”
“I’m not a fucking puppy, asshole. I need an appropriate place to go.”
Bennett places his hands on the counter and looks at the ceiling. His lips are moving. Is he...counting?
“Just worry about the food. I’ll figure this out.” I stand and look around, and a cramp seizes my bladder.
I yank my clothes from the hearth and begin putting them on as quickly as I can. Each time my fingertips hit an extra-warm spot, I’m forced to power through an intense pain. But no matter what, I will not piss on the floor like a dog. Nope. No way.
Peering through the tiny window in the door, I can just make out the outhouse in the moonlight. I turn toward Bennett. “I’ll be right back!” I yell in my scratchy voice as I rush through the back door and head into the darkness.