Chapter 4 Bonnie
Bonnie
Iscrape my hair into a ponytail and put my hair tie on before running my hands down the front of my khaki shirt.
The omega in the mirror holds nothing in common with the brokenhearted girl I once was.
In fact, my ability to look in the mirror again is a source of great pride.
The pain is still there, a huge, gaping hole in my chest, but no one can see it now, and I’ve buried it under a mountain of purpose.
Besides, it’s been ten years since I saw them on that red carpet. I’m not eighteen anymore. Dad helped mold me into someone who can survive. No alpha will ever crush me again.
I turn away, picking up my phone and grabbing my keys. Everything else I need is in the pack on my porch, ready to go.
Every time I get ready to lead a new group up into the park, I find myself feeling this rush of adrenaline. I like to chase it, the highs, the lows, the almost falls, the danger. It’s become a bit of an addiction now that I carefully monitor.
I slide my sunglasses onto my face and step out, looking over the people gathering in front of me.
“Welcome to your three-week guide into the magical Locklier Park. My name is Bonnie, and I’m part of Sanderson Adventure Tours and your guide.
First things first. I am in charge. If you have a problem with that, don’t set out on this adventure.
There is always one yahoo who thinks he can do a better job, but despite how beautiful this place is, it is wild, and it is dangerous.
I’m trained, and I know this place better than the back of my hand. I will keep you safe.”
Ten people, a mix of alphas and betas, smile with a complete lack of comprehension of what they’ve signed up for.
But wait, there should be twenty.
I huff, annoyed. In the emails, I made it clear that everyone needs to be here exactly on time.
Sometimes, everything runs smoothly, and I look out over this clearing, and the car park is full of empty cars, but my adventurers are all lined up ready to go.
It’s a perfect day, the car park is full, but we are most certainly not ready to go.
I sigh in annoyance.
Two limos appear almost before I can finish that thought.
I fold my arms over my chest, my lips twisting in irritation as I watch them pull into the car park, leaving a trail of dust behind them.
This is a first; I’ve never seen limos here before.
The people I’m waiting on are already on thin ice; being rich and arrogant isn’t going to make me make it easy for them.
The forest is calling me. I want to get moving.
I check my watch, and we’re now officially five minutes behind schedule.
I’ve discovered that the start matters to how the trip will go.
If it’s bad, it has a tendency to stay bad.
Accidents, bad weather, bad luck. The sky is a nice clear blue, though, so I’m not giving up hope yet, but I mentally prepare myself for three weeks of hell.
It takes forever, but they climb out of the limos, grabbing backpacks, laughing and joking as they wander over to me. I look at my watch, tapping my foot and feeling like a powder keg about to blow.
I’m controlling myself, just, when, out of the corner of my eye, I spot him.
HIM.
Rage sizzles in my blood, and, in slow motion, I turn and find all four of them standing there.
Laughing and smiling, but those happy expressions slowly slide off their faces as they take me in and realise exactly who I am.
They are surprised to see me; I can see it in the way Rory clenches his hands around his bag strap.
Cyn does a double take, while Vale’s lips thin.
The only one who doesn’t have a visible reaction is Dakota.
If I weren’t looking for their reactions, I would have missed it. At least we’re all on the same page now.
I look them up and down, taking in their expensive clothes. Everything is the right brand and is new. They look like the poster children for wildly inexperienced hikers. Great, this is just great.
A tiny voice inside pipes up with an opinion I wish I didn’t hear.
They look even better than they did when they were younger.
Maturity has given them a dangerous edge.
Playboy alphas with reputations for fucking anything and everything that moves, while somehow still being revolutionary leaders in their company.
Yes, my stalking of them over the years has been a sick character weakness, but know thy enemy, right?
I force a smile and shift my gaze away from them, though it is hard, and when I do, I feel vulnerable in a way I haven’t in years.
My tongue feels thick in my mouth, and words are hard to grasp, but I force myself to start my reel again.
“My name is Bonnie Sanderson, and I will be leading this tour. It’s my job to keep you safe.
There are many dangers that can harm you out here.
So, I need you to trust me and listen to everything I say.
I promise I’m not doing it for fun, that last bit is a lie.
I do this exclusively for fun and because I love it. ”
I pause, looking over my new flock. There are sixteen people, sixteen lives I’m responsible for. Four of them, I would happily kill right now. Can I lead them to a cliff and shove them over? Well, let’s let fate decide.
“Meg, hold your hand up,” I snap as several people start chatting, clearly not paying any attention to me.
Meg is shorter than I am, with a jet-black pixie cut and a mouth worse than a sailor’s, but she’s one of the best people to take on a tour.
Her skills in reading maps, weather, tracks, and organising everything from the trips down to how to pack a bag are invaluable.
Plus, she’s my best friend, my ride-or-die.
“Meg Connelly, everyone. Trust me, she might look cute and helpless, but this is one of the most knowledgeable experts on the team. You listen to her, she will not guide you wrong. If she says don’t step there, assume whatever it is will bite your leg off.
” I scan the group until I see the tall blond head of Meg’s alpha. “Desi Connelly, hand up.”
Desi throws both hands in the air and does a shimmy.
“Desi is the people person. He’s the person who will make sure you don’t kill each other out here.
Do not underestimate him; he’s got several qualifications, including black belt, first aid, and climbing instructor.
He might look like a quiet rock of strength, but Desi is an alpha who will keep us safe. ”
“We don’t need safe; we need adventure.”
I let my eyes linger on the one who spoke.
He’s got plain brown hair, laughing green eyes, and is kind of puny.
My guess is he’s compensating for something he feels is inadequate.
There’s always a couple in the group, and they always come out here, thinking they can prove their dick measures up against the wilderness.
My being female just makes them more confident.
I’m not surprised anymore by who comes out here; there’s actually a bit of a pattern.
We’ve got the loudmouth overcompensator.
The anxiety ball, that guy will cling to us, trying to convince us he’s dead and or dying.
The quiet one I need to watch because they are out here for their own reasons.
I had one a few years back who walked into the bush mid-tour and tried to take their own life.
It happens sometimes; we put on counselor hats, talk them through it, guide them home, and follow up with their emergency contact.
My favourite, though, is the one who is enraged he has to be here; he will snark and scowl and be pissed off at the universe and become the person who gets assigned the worst jobs.
There’s a victim type who is often the butt of all the jokes, who will end up doing most of the chores.
The tech guy who cannot cope without his phone.
The office romance couple, trying to keep it secret, and the fearless adventurer who wants to prove how much more he knows than us.
And them.
They make no sense why they are here. I don’t like that. I don’t look at them, but I watch out of the corner of my eye, tracking their movements and the way they stand apart from the group.
“You need a safe adventure, Egbert Tine,” I say once the jeering has died down.
He opens his mouth to argue, but the woman beside him elbows him.
“No one wants to find out just how terrifying it can be to watch someone get into trouble and not have any way of getting them out of here. Let me be clear; a lot of where we are travelling will not be accessible to cars, trucks, or helicopters. We will have no phone service, which means no contact to the outside world other than the satellite phone. But you knew this beforehand,” I say, smiling mockingly.
“You signed up for this tour to detach from the umbilical cord you call life.”
I’m being a little blunter than usual, a little more aggressive, but we are behind schedule, and I dislike surprises, especially ones in the form of blasts from my past.
They’re quieter now, unsure. It’s one thing to say you want to unplug, but in the face of actually going off into the wild without access to phones, social media, and emails, they panic.
“I want everyone to go to the toilet, make sure you have everything you need. We are leaving in fifteen minutes. From here on out, there will be no toilets, no showers, no phone service, no civilization. It will be you, the people you see around you, and nature. Welcome to the great big world, my friends. It’s time to start your adventure. ”
I turn away, signaling that I’m done, but I’m surprised by the cheer that goes up. They don’t normally do that. Either, this trip, my campers are psychotic, or they are actually looking forward to this.