Chapter 10 #2
The roaring subsided, and I took hold of something cold and hard in front of me. As I fumbled with it, the roaring faded further. I lifted my head. The noise cut out entirely, along with the shaking of whatever was between my legs.
There was something tight and constrictive around my waist, pressing uncomfortably on my bladder. I winced and tried to open my eyes, crusted with what felt like ice. When I finally cracked a lid, blinding sunlight met me.
“Hey, go slow,” a voice in my ear urged with a weight against my back.
“I have to pee,” I mumbled in a whiny, childlike tone. It was all that really mattered at the moment.
There was a deep male chuckle before I heard rope sliding against rope. The cinch around my middle loosened, and I slumped forward before an arm caught me.
“Whoa there, take it easy,” the deep voice said. “If you have to go, just go.”
I shook my head, brow knitting in frustration, trying to understand. “Just go?” I moaned weakly. “Go where?” I was too annoyed to deal with such trivial conversation. Maybe I would just pee my pants. It’d be warm, at least. “Where’s the bathroom?” I tried again.
More chuckling. “Anywhere you want it to be.”
My face pruned further. What the hell? This wasn’t a damn community pool—you couldn’t just pee whenever you wanted.
The warmth and pressure at my back vanished, and I shivered in the sudden cold. Why was it so freezing? It was spring, the last I’d checked.
With a sway, I forced my eyes open once more, determined to solve this mystery.
My vision slowly adjusted to the intense white light.
I leaned forward to shield my eyes from the object in front of me, my forehead bumping against something rubbery and plastic.
The thumping in my head was incessant, and I felt more hungover than I had on my twenty-first birthday in Vegas.
With my eyes shielded from the light, I blinked furiously, feeling actual ice chips flake off my eyelashes. When the world focused, I was looking down at my lap. My legs were straddling a leather-like seat. Gloved hands rested against my thighs. I wiggled my fingers, realizing the hands were mine.
Lifting my forehead from the cold, rubbery plastic, I braved the light and looked up again.
The sheer whiteness of the world was painful, causing me to recoil at the sight.
A cluster of whipped cream-topped evergreens came into focus a little way off.
Each branch emerged, eventually revealing a sparse forest surrounding the area, the trees topped with snow.
Wind gusted, blowing sparkly ice crystals across the flat, open clearing before me.
Jesus Christ, was this heaven?
Pressure returned to my back, and a hand rubbed in circles. It reminded me of something my mother used to do when I was sick, and it relaxed me. This touch, however, was much firmer than my mother’s had been, and a bit more… something. Not familial, but still full of caring.
I didn’t have the mental space to figure this out right now. I moaned and then grumbled, shying away from the touch.
Peeing, right? Peeing was still a priority.
“There are a few small trees just to your right,” the gravelly voice offered. “I can help you get over there, and you can use nature’s facilities.”
I was placing the timbre of the voice, small bits of memory trickling back in. “Wait… Gray?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
I grumbled like a child. Fuck my life. I didn’t want him to see me like this.
And what was this exactly? Was I really hungover?
I turned my head to take in more of what surrounded us. That’s when I registered the obvious and very apparent fact that we were nowhere near New York—nowhere near civilization at all, it seemed. Spring had not yet arrived in this place either. It was like traveling back in time.
I drew in a long, fortifying breath. It was time for me to snap out of it. I sat back, working my tongue in my cotton-like mouth before speaking again. I felt grumpy.
“What the actual hell, Gray?” I murmured. I could feel myself gaining momentum, the fog lifting one inch at a time. “Where are we?”
Crusty icicles clung to the few bushes and trees in our general area. A fluffy layer of new snow sat on top of everything, like whipped cream on a snow cone. No path was visible, just untamed woods and open fields.
I looked left, my neck stiff, then right. Apparently, the vibrating thing between my legs was a snowmobile.
An overwhelming need to scream and rant, to throw a tantrum like a child in a department store, overcame me, but every movement was painful.
Images of the sudden attack by two men, and the ensuing fight in my bedroom returned: my head cracking against the tile, my arm wrenched at unnatural angles, and my oxygen being cut off.
Everything felt stiff, becoming stiffer as each memory resurfaced.
Taking stock of what I wore, I didn’t recognize my oversized pants, gloves, shoes, or the coat wrapped around me.
A flash of red silk peeked out through the half-zipped jacket—my pajama top—but where were my pants?
In their place was a pair of snow pants, and I couldn’t feel the silk beneath them.
They were extra cushy, though, especially around the bottom.
“Where are my pants?” I barked with little bite.
Before Gray could answer, a long, torturous, feline yowl of utter pain and longing erupted behind me.
Mr. Beans?
With renewed quickness, I spun. There was a large sled latched behind us with a kennel strapped to the front. Behind the kennel was a mound of several other items covered by a tarp.
Gray cut between me and the kennel, his face coming into focus.
“You peed your pants while you were passed out. I had to remove your pajamas and get you something clean…” he paused, seeming to search for the right words, “…and put a diaper on you.” He grinned roguishly, if that’s what you’d call it.
It had a mischievous hint of satisfaction in it that I didn’t like.
“That’s why I said you can just pee if you aren’t up for moving.
You’re covered in that department…” he motioned toward my lower half with a casual gloved hand as though this were The Price Is Right and that was the prize.
My jaw dropped open, so startled by his explanation that the world flipped upside down. I fell backward off the snowmobile into the packed snow with a grunt and a subsequent yelp. I heard shuffling before hands gripped the sides of my jacket and righted me.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
Things were literally falling into place, and panic ripped through me like a machete through tall grass. Shaking him off, I gathered enough strength to clamber away from him a few feet. I kicked out in warning.
“Get the hell away from me,” I said, slow and measured.
Gray looked amused, hands in the air, and backing away. “Suit yourself.” He pointed behind me, still guiding me toward the trees.
A confusing cocktail of fear, anger, and… was that lustiness?
Damn it.
Everything about him was captivating. He was all raw masculinity against the shadowy backdrop of the forest. He had that weathered, windswept look, a rugged beard, and shaggy hair peeking out from under a wool cap.
A flash of flannel showed beneath his jacket, and his thick jeans hugged the sculpted muscles of his thighs.
I could almost picture his perfectly chiseled chest under all those layers, thick, meaty pecks and a decent yet tasteful amount of dark body hair trailing down over strong abs.
About to drool, I glanced where he’d shown, trying to keep my scowl in place and not completely lose all visible defense over his appearance. He was nothing but trouble, a walking bear trap.
Behind me, a little hill sloped upward toward a cluster of young evergreens.
“You go pee, and I’ll wait,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and moving to sit on the seat of the snowmobile to wait. One leg soon hitched onto the machine, looking like a model straight out of a wilderness magazine.
I glared, sharpening my defenses. As much as I wanted to keep fighting him, my bladder was about to pop.
I rolled onto my stomach with a grunt, thankful for the gloves as my hands dug into the soft snow, pulling myself forward.
Up the small incline, I found vertical purchase on a three-foot evergreen and stood before using the small tree as support until I could reach for the next, larger tree.
I rounded this one, knocking snow and ice to the ground as I worked to find the tie of the baggy snow pants.
Working out the belt, I easily pulled the pants down, finding a puffy, loose pair of adult diapers replacing my usual designer thong.
He hadn’t been kidding. He’d actually fucking diapered me. “You’re a sick asshole!” I screamed.
I heard chuckling in response.
Okay, Betty, get it together. I didn’t have the strength to hate myself just yet. I had to stay strong. Using the tree to help me, I squatted as effectively as possible and completed the task.
Sweet relief.
I stood again on wobbly legs, wincing as my sore back struggled to hold me.
Fingers shaking in oversized gloves, I re-clasped the belt to hold the pants on.
With several stumbling steps, thankfully out of his view, I balanced myself as best I could and made it back around the tree.
My legs felt like jelly after holding a squat that long.
The wilderness gym was already kicking my ass.
With my chin held high, I slid back down the hillside, refusing to meet his assuredly smug gaze. One thing was for sure: I had no intention of climbing back onto that snowmobile.
I plopped down on my tushie at the bottom of the hill, crossing my arms and legs in protest. If he expected me to continue on, then he’d have to tie me up and throw me on the sled himself.
Another yowl came from the animal crate.
“Listen, we need to keep moving if we’re going to make it home before nightfall,” Gray said.