Chapter 8 - Nikita
"Day seven thousand eight hundred and ninety million," I groan as I lie on the sofa with my feet in the air above my head, my toes pointing like a ballerina toward the ceiling.
I'm bored out of my mind. All I've been doing today is wiggling around the sofa.
I can't read. I can't explore this damn cabin for another second.
I can't eat again, even though cooking is the most entertaining thing to do around here.
I've had three cups of tea already, and if I have another I'll burst.
I can't take it anymore.
After the whole bear incident, I tried to keep a low profile and be grateful because he saved my life.
And then he still treated me with kindness by getting me a drink, letting me act silly, and never once making me feel like I was being too much.
Even though that whisky went straight to my head for some reason, and I couldn't stop giggling.
He was sweet to me.
And it didn't feel right to complain about being cooped up in here, but it's been days since the bear thing, and I am literally going insane with boredom.
"What did you say?" he asks from the other sofa where he's reading a book.
"I said I'm about to lose my mind and turn into a raging psychopath born of isolation and boredom," I grumble, rolling over to look at him.
"You're bored?" he asks, frowning.
"Aren't you? How can you not be?" I huff, sitting up and glaring at him.
"You have to take me out, Bardil. Please.
I swear I will behave. I will listen to everything you say.
I won't try to run away. Literally, everything can be on your terms, but I really, really, really need to get out of this cabin. "
I'm whining. Whining has never gotten me anywhere in life, but that is how desperate I am in this moment. If I didn't think it would look pathetic, I'd drop to my knees in front of him and beg.
Bardil scowls at me with disapproval.
But he doesn't say a damn word in response. Instead, he drops his eyes back to his book and carries on reading as though I haven't just thrown my dignity on the floor and pleaded with him for this one small mercy.
Frustration floods me, and I scrunch my nose and bite my teeth together.
I want to shout at him and tell him he's mean. But it's pointless.
What does he care if I'm bored? He's not here to entertain me. He's my captor.
Standing up, I storm off to my bedroom, sulking heavily and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he's upset me.
I don't come out of my room for the rest of the day and eventually fall asleep early because there's nothing else to do.
In the morning, I wake up with a fright when he barges in and rudely calls my name.
"Get up, Nikita," he demands, grabbing the edge of my blanket and pulling it away from my shoulders.
"Stop that!" I snap, still half asleep and very annoyed with him.
"Get up. Get dressed."
"Why?" I groan, sitting up, grateful I fell asleep in my clothes last night instead of my flimsy pajamas that I don't want him to see me in.
"Stop questioning me and get the hell out of bed," he snaps, glaring at me.
"Sheesh, someone needs another cup of coffee. You don't have to be so angry about it," I huff, throwing the blankets off and swinging my feet off the edge of the bed.
My eyes drift cautiously toward him.
Where is he taking me?
Is the kidnapping plan over?
Is this the end?
Doesn't he need me anymore?
"Are you going to stand there and watch me change?" I ask, trying not to sound scared despite the intense warnings swarming my thoughts.
"Uh, no. Right. Uh. Wear comfortable shoes. And gym wear. Something easy to move in," he tells me, walking toward the bedroom door.
"Why?" I ask suspiciously. Is it easier to hide my body if I'm wearing thinner clothing?
"Because it's the right outfit for the adventure we're going on," he sighs.
"Adventure?" I repeat.
"Yes, you wanted to get out. We're getting out.
Unless you changed your mind?" His words are clipped and impatient.
"I'm only doing this to shut you up. I can't handle your complaining about being stuck in here as though I'm literally torturing you or something," he snaps.
I narrow my brows, my brain spinning to work out if that's the real reason.
Half of me is screaming, Don't go alone with him into the woods. He's up to something. The other half is screaming, Yes, let's get out of this damn cabin and breathe some real air and see nature.
I bite my lip, fighting to decide which half is right. I'm alone with him in the cabin either way. What's the difference if I go out into the woods?
Bardil rolls his eyes impatiently. "I'll be waiting in the living room. Don't take too long to decide," he huffs.
"I'm coming now. I'll be quick," I answer before I can change my mind. I need to get out of here. I'll just be wary of him. If I need to… I'll run like the wind.
In a hurry, I change into some gym tights and hiking boots from the closet. I haven't worn them yet, and the leather is a bit stiff, but soft enough that I don't think they will hurt my feet. I throw on a tight tank top and a windbreaker for warmth, then rush out into the living room.
Bardil is shoving things into a backpack.
My stomach knots. What's in the backpack? Rope? A weapon?
What would he need if he planned to bury me out there?
He probably wouldn't even need to bury me. The bears would eat me and do the work for him.
Stop thinking like that. You'll get yourself into a panic.
"Ready when you are," I say cheerfully, smiling at him when he turns to look me up and down. His eyes drift over me, hunger in them. My heart beats a little faster, recognizing the way he's studying my body. I clear my throat and turn toward the door to hide my blushing cheeks.
Wiggling the door handle, I find it still locked.
"Stop being so impatient," he grumbles, coming up behind me and placing his hand on my hip to move me to the side.
At his touch, my body sparks with an intense fire.
He punches in a code, and my heart literally leaps into my throat when I manage to see every digit. Four. Four. Eight. Three. Seven.
I repeat the sequence in my mind. I sing it silently, trying to remember the pattern of numbers. Remember it. Save it in your mind for later. That's your key to getting out of here.
Bardil pushes the door open and gestures for me to go ahead of him out into the fresh, crisp air.
I take a few deep breaths, grinning, immediately feeling better out here in the open. My eyes drift over the tree line, remembering the bear and the fear I felt, thinking I was going to die.
I don't want to die. By the hands of a bear or a man. My mind fills with warning again. Bardil could be up to anything.
He starts walking toward the forest, and I have to jog a little to catch up.
Stop worrying. Worrying will get you nowhere. Look around, take it in. Enjoy yourself.
My grin gets a little wider when we're beneath the tall trees, and I can see bright green moss and smell the richness of the earth our boots are disturbing.
"It's so beautiful out here," I say as my excitement builds.
Bardil hardly talks at all. His stoic quietness has me second-guessing everything, and I flip from happy and excited, enjoying the freedom of the hike, to stressed and worried he's about to do something terrible to me.
The deeper we get into the wild places, the more I flicker between the two extremes.
After about forty-five minutes of hiking, we come to a clearing, and Bardil leads me to the edge of a rocky cliff. He stands with his toes practically over the edge, and my stomach drops with vertigo.
"Don't go so close!" I blurt out.
He chuckles and eyes me. "Are you afraid of heights?" he asks, amused.
"Um, no, but… just be careful," I say, nervously walking toward the edge too.
The view is incredible. It's a long way down. High enough to break every bone in my body.
"You ready?" he asks.
"Ready for what?" I stammer, knitting my brows together.
"To climb," he smirks, kneeling down to pull coils of rope from his backpack.
I watch Bardil as he skillfully sets up the climbing ropes, hooking the ends into metal rings already embedded in the rocks at the edge of the cliff.
"You're really serious," I say in disbelief.
"I really am. You said you wanted adventure… so I'm giving you adventure," he explains, gesturing over the cliff. "Come here, I have to clip this onto you," he reaches toward me and grabs my arm to pull me closer.
I stand stiff and hyper-aware of his hands touching my body while he clips a harness around my waist, threading the strap between my legs and buckling me into the whole contraption. While he's working, he talks to me, explaining safety things and how the belay device works.
I hold my breath watching him clip the last carabiner in place.
Bardil sets himself up with the same gear, then walks me to the edge.
"We're going to abseil down and climb back up," he explains.
My heart somersaults when I see his grin.
Excitement and adrenaline replace any thoughts I had of what he was planning, and as he guides me over the edge, the rope pulls tight and he gently talks me through the descent.
"You've got this, just move slowly and trust the ropes," he says, talking me through each step.
In no time at all, I'm laughing and letting go of all worries to enjoy myself. I could be stuck at home right now, in my bedroom, wishing for something like this to happen while my brothers explain to me that it's not safe to go outside.
I could be stuck in that cabin, bored out of my mind.
But I'm not.
I'm here, in the fresh wild air, my feet against rocks, my heart pumping heavily, my breath heaving, and my hair catching on a gentle breeze.
"You're doing great!" he shouts from a little further down the rock face. When I look down at him, I see his face glowing. He loves this. He's clearly in his element out here.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," I giggle.