BONUS CHAPTER
-MILES-
This was it. I was getting my moment. Putting out a personal ad on FetLife was a genius idea. Four men had responded, and the last guy was pulling up and parking next to our cars.
I had asked them to arrive masked, so I showed no favoritism on who was who, but of course I looked at their profiles when they responded. They had to be at least a six. God, I wasn’t going to bed with an uggo after.
Standing deeper into the woods, I looked back at them. Two of the men were wearing the same mask, but I would let it slide. It was a common mask and easy to obtain. They probably already had them in their Halloween stuff. I didn’t really know what the third mask was, but I didn’t care.
As the fourth guy walked up, I had to stop him before he joined the others. “Excuse me.”
I assumed he looked at me when he stopped in his tracks.
“Yeah, we won’t be needing anyone else.”
His gloved hand lifted his mask completely off. “You said there would be four masked guys?”
Was I going to tell him that I was dismissing him because he was much shorter than I expected? Shorter than me? No. It didn’t help that he drove a fucking Fiat. “I think three just really fits the vibe. Did you not get my message?” I lied.
His face twisted. “No?”
Not sure why I felt the need to dismiss him—the others would outrun him for sure. “Oh, my service must be bad.” I paused as the other three stood like they were waiting for a bus. “Did you want to stay back and watch?”
He threw his arms out. “You serious?”
“Sorry.” I gave a shrug.
Without another word, he dismissed himself, and I heard the sound of shuffling dirt under boots coming from up the trail to the right of us.
An older woman with a trekking pole in each hand weaved between the predators and their prey.
I gave a straight smile and nod, acting as if this was completely normal as she headed to the parking area.
“Alright. The rules are I get a thirty-second head start, no tackling, no actual restraints, and my safeword is “Jellicle Cat”. The first one to catch me gets sixty bucks and maybe a fun night at your place.” My hands lazily crossed in front of me as my shoulders rocked back and forth; the thought of being prey and dragged back to someone’s cabin crossed my mind.
It wouldn’t happen, but it was a nice thought. “Any questions?”
The three masked men responded by adjusting their stances. One of them rolled their neck and shoulders back.
“Perfect.” I began to turn. “Remember thirty seconds from when I start moving forward.”
The middle one nodded and dropped his hands to his side. Without another word, I began my adventure. My heart rhythm picked up the farther I moved into the forest, away from the trail, away from the parking lot, and away from my captors.
The sinking sun distorted my view of the rocks and sticks below. Was I going to roll my ankle? No. I pushed the negative thought out of my mind to avoid manifesting it.
How did Reagan do this? She wasn’t even in sneakers.
Did it rain recently? I’d hate to step in mud—and slip.
I looked ahead at the incline, trying to map out my path in the uncharted territory. Why didn’t I think of the incline? I was hardly jogging and out of breath. My disdain for cardio didn’t help.
I looked back just once, because thirty seconds was starting to feel like three minutes. The man in the different mask was holding up his wrist to his face, and curling in each finger as the thirty seconds finished.
At once they charged towards me, and suddenly thirty seconds didn’t feel like enough. My eyes darted up the mountainside, and for once I wished I were a mountain goat in a past life, but I was not. I was a Broadway star, and it heavily leaked into this life.
“Shit.” My feet shuffled under me, and I folded over, almost losing my footing. Reaching the end of my mapped-out trail, my eyes moved forward. Straight wasn’t looking too good, but right and left had me sketched out as well.
I decided I would make that choice when I got closer, and that’s when it happened. My heel came down on what should have been flat ground, but came down on something hard and round. A rock. A root. Whatever it was caused my ankle to roll and landed me on my fifth metatarsal.
God, my podiatrist father would be proud I knew the anatomy—Ashamed that I did it—but proud, maybe.
I drop to the ground, automatically grabbing my foot. I wasn’t sure if it was broken, fractured, or bruised, or maybe just fine. But I did know I was embarrassed and fucking pissed that it happened and ruined the whole thing.
Quickly, one after another, the masked men arrived. “Guys, sorry. I fucked up my foot. The chase is over.”
One of the twin masks drops down and grips my arm tighter than I would expect. “Sure you did.”
“Ow!” I jerked out of his hand before he had a chance to pull me to my feet. “Jellicle Cats!”
“Oh, you’re serious?”
“Yes, I’m serious. Could you guys help me get back down? I can split the sixty between the three of you for your time.” I lifted my hands to the two gloves offered.
“Here.” The masked man, who almost made things worse, removed his disguise and shoved it in his back pocket before gripping his hand around my waist for support.
I laid my arm across his shoulders, and his profile came to the forefront of my mind.
Chris. EMT. And the bluest eyes I’d ever see. He was gorgeous.
Was this love? Was this like Reagan and Vincent? Kind of.
The other two masked men helped me get down to the starting point. They didn’t really need to, but I figured it was for the twenty dollars.
As we approached our vehicles, I opened the passenger door of my mom’s car that she let me “borrow” (She was on a date—she wouldn’t even know I took it) and grabbed my wallet. Unfolding the bundle, I handed each man a twenty. Chris stayed near me as the other two dispersed.
“So, are you going to be okay?”
I plopped my wallet back on the seat. “Yeah, I think so. My ego is probably more injured than my foot now.”
“Maybe we should ice it. I know this great diner that is open all night. The staff is pretty lenient, and might lend us a bag of ice.” He lifted the twenty. “My treat. Are you interested?”
?
Autumn quickly turned into winter, and winter brought snow. Arriving weeks early as usual, we will never know if the snow fell faster or the couple.
After a quick commitment conversation around Christmas and ringing in the New Year with a cutie patootie, Miles was planning out his year (and life) with Chris.
Find a place together by March. New York vacation in September.
Engaged after committing to each other over a year and shocking everyone in May, with the news of eloping after their trip to see the Palais Garnier, the grand opera house in Paris.
Miles was even working on his bachelor’s degree in theatre education and would eventually replace Ms. Yellowitz, the dusty theatre teacher at the local high school. The one who mistakenly never gave him the lead role in Grease, the one he knew he always deserved.
Not necessarily wanting children themselves, they did tuck a chest of equine toys in the corner of their living room for their two nieces. They frequently held themed dinner parties for friends from all walks of life and spent Sundays in their backyard.
And when the fall breeze was still warm, they would take a trip up the road to visit the Callahan Ranch. Run by their brother-in-law, who defied the odds and lived well past his father.