Chapter 4
Theo fucked up. He jerked away from her like she was trying to stab him in the gut when all she wanted was to help. The look she gave him after, like some of this newly sparking trust between them evaporated, still sits heavy in his gut.
It hadn’t been anything big. Just a flinch. A twitch of panic wired into him from too many years of looking over his shoulder, expecting someone to come at him swinging. But it was enough to make her go still and pull back.
His twitchy behavior is screwing them both over. He’s only glad she seems to have cut him some slack and let it go. He still worries that she might be wary of him now, but he’d only have himself to blame for acting like a skittish, defensive deer.
People hurt what’s already hurting. That’s a lesson he learned the hard way a long time ago.
Always protect his injuries. Never show weakness.
Never trust anyone. His father would drone on and on about how every interaction was a battle just waiting to be won, as if the boardroom and the stock market were gladiator rings.
Even the closest people to you could offer the swiftest defeat, he would warn, right before shoving Theo into whatever viper pit he crafted to test his ability to find victory.
That sort of upbringing has made him skittish instead of building armor, but he’s got other shit to worry about right now, like his nearly frost-bitten fingers and the wolves that are bound to come back.
The weight of Nora’s forehead pushed delicately against his shoulder, seeking comfort, is an unexpectedly welcome thing. He doesn’t think she realized what she was doing until it was done. By then, the horror of what they heard was enough to override any need to pull away.
Theo isn’t one to embrace anything close to cuddling, but desperate circumstances call for desperate measures. He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit that the soft tickle of her hair on his chin and the pressure of her against him wasn’t at least a little bit soothing.
It’s grounding, even. A tether back to something human. Something warm.
They haven’t said much since last night. Not much to say, he supposes. It’s over and done with, and talking about it won’t change the facts.
He puffs softly against his fingers, sighing in defeat when even his own breath doesn’t feel warm anymore.
“I think I ran outta heat,” he says, with a shiver. “I’m blowing cold air now.”
“Let me try.” She doesn’t reach for him again, but offers her bare hand after removing her own gloves. “Please. Let me help you.”
Being miserable is enough of a shove, and the small furrow in her brows, coupled with a sad frown, makes it difficult to leave her hanging.
So, he gives her his shaky hands covered in pink, cracked skin, and she takes them carefully into her own, cupping his palms to blow a stream of warm air from deep in her lungs. It’s so hot it almost hurts.
“I still have some left,” she half-whispers. “I’ll share. Don’t go get any ideas, okay?”
He doesn’t understand the last part until she slowly unzips her parka a few inches, angles her body to face him, and tucks his hands above her breasts where her collarbone rests.
He freezes, fingers nestled between warm skin and her clothes.
The heat there is like a jolt of life flooding through him. He hadn’t realized just how numb he’d gotten until sensation started to crawl back in like a swarm of tiny knives under his skin.
“Relax. I’m not trying to test your honor.”
He huffs at her attempted joke. The angle is odd, but she’s all warm and soft, the best thing he’s felt before or after the crash, and he’s only touching her collarbones, for fuck’s sake.
“You can’t let this get so bad anymore. If I can help, I want to. We’re in this together, right?”
He nods. “Right. About last night. What happened with the wolves…”
“I don’t wanna talk about that.” She sniffles, looking down and away. “Don’t want to think about it.”
He doesn’t want to either, but they don’t have much choice, so he ignores the fact that she’s still hugging his hands like some sort of security blanket and starts talking.
“They’re coming back. I’m almost sure of it.
We either need to find a way to close this place up, which is near impossible, or… ”
“Don’t say it.”
“Or we have to leave.”
“And go where?”
“I don’t know. But, if we stay here, we’re asking for trouble.
The wolves know there’s food around. It won’t be long until other things start sniffing around the wreck, too.
We’ve got no way to protect ourselves. No way to close ourselves in.
Just two gaping holes on both ends. I don’t want to try to fight a polar bear exposed like this. ”
He can see the resignation on her face even if her reply comes out small and tired. “We said we’d stay with the plane.”
“I know, and we won’t have a way to protect ourselves out there, either. The only benefit is putting some distance between us and the buffet, but it has to be something we both agree on, or—”
“Or what? If I don’t agree, you’ll leave me here and go alone?”
The way she bristles, assuming that he’d abandon her so easily, is like a flipped switch.
Someone did that to her. Someone made her the type of person who jumps to those conclusions.
No one’s born with that level of suspicion.
He wasn’t, and yet he’s the type that’ll assume the worst just as easily, and it’s all because someone taught him along the way that he’s alone in this world and all he really has is himself.
She hasn’t moved yet, but her glare is hard, ready for battle.
He keeps his voice quiet and shakes his head. “No. If you don’t agree, then I’ll stay here with you.”
“Oh.” She deflates in that same guilty fashion he did when he flinched from her the night before. “Which direction would we go?”
“The same one the plane was going. We can see the crash marks in the snow. Hopefully, that’ll get us closer to a town or something else, because I swear I don’t remember seeing much of anything out that window the way we came. Not for a long while.”
She nods, determined. “If someone was gonna find us, if they knew where we were, we’d have seen some sign of rescue by now, right?”
“I think so. It’s only been three days, but…if they knew our location, they’d be here.”
“When do we leave?”
“As soon as we can. We’ll need daylight to get a few miles between us and them.”
He can feel her heart beating under his palms. That steady thump, thump, thump moves from a slow cadence to a rapid, frantic beat as they lay out their plans.
This is the first time he’s touched a woman so intimately in a long, long while.
Barely remembers what the last time felt like, and it’s not as if he and Nora are doing anything except surviving, but damn if it doesn’t do things to him anyway.
It doesn’t take much to get him excited these days.
He may as well be in the Victorian era, getting hard over the sight of her ankles.
“Any better?” she asks, quietly. “Your hands?”
“Mhmm. Thanks.”
Her palms give a gentle tap on his knuckles before letting go. “Okay, then. Let’s pack our shit and get out of here before we get more visitors.”
It’s terrifying to leave the only shelter they have. The sun is shining and the weather is decent, if cold, but that could all change in the blink of an eye, stranding them even worse than before.
One thing he feels certain of, though, is that those wolves are coming back to check the rest of the wreck.
With no effective weapons, they’re sitting ducks.
Sure, they could grab some scrap metal and hope for the best, but two of them against a pack with some broken rebar isn’t going to land the odds in their favor.
The wolves aren’t the only thing he’s worried about.
It’s the scent of dinner wafting around and attracting polar bears.
Fucking Oliver and his need to adventure in one of the most remote parts of Alaska is biting them all in the ass right now.
They wouldn’t have to worry about any of that in some of the bigger cities further south.
If his brother were here right now, Theo would have knocked him out already if the crash didn’t do that for him.
It’s misplaced anger, and he knows it. Oliver didn’t cause the plane to go down but that doesn’t stop him from assigning blame anyway.
* * *
It’s a risk to leave the wreckage, and they both know it. He’s just glad she agreed and they aren’t back there trying to build an actual fort out of metal scraps instead of one made of blankets.
Their trek so far is mostly silent, with only the sound of their boots crunching hardened snow and their packs shifting against their backs with scavenged supplies.
They aren’t suited for this. Neither of them have the footwear or gear for it.
The only reason they haven’t frozen yet is due to the coats they found in the scattered luggage, bought with Alaskan vacations in mind.
They struggle their way through deep powder, one foot in front of the other, leaving the plane behind them and heading in the direction it was going before it slid to a stop.
“So, what do you do for work?” He’s making conversation to avoid letting his thoughts run wild with useless worst-case scenarios. “I dunno much about you yet.”
“Massage therapist.”
The urge to run with this information wins, and he grins at her, rolling his shoulders. “Do you wanna?”
“No.”
“But I’ve got a crick in my neck…”
“You get one more try.”
He goes quiet.
She raises a brow. “Come on, let’s hear it.”
“Nope. I’m saving it for later.”
“Smart. Don’t waste it.” She shakes her head with an amused roll of her eyes. “This massage thing is new. Before that, it was nothing. Well, not nothing, but for a while it was….you’ll think it’s weird.”
“Try me.”