Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Hennessy: He found me long before he ever looked up.
My fingers dug deeper into the bark, holding on tighter. His words made me feel more vulnerable, as if they had the power to plummet me to my death.
He inhaled slowly. I could hear his breathing like I heard my own.
“This ends one of two ways,” he indicated, breaking through the silence. “Neither of which is in favor of you.”
I listened carefully, trying not to let it get the best of me.
“Besides,” he added. “I don’t like hunting things that don’t know the rules. The outcome is always the same.” His tone remained maddeningly even, causing me to suck in another breath.
The quiet night made it easy for his voice to reach me even though I was high up in the sky.
“You climbed a tree,” he stated the obvious. “Most people run until they collapse.”
Most people? How often do they search for strangers in the woods?
“But you chose to become still.”
I continued to listen intently to everything he was saying, mostly curious about where he was going with this.
“Do you know what happens when prey stops moving?”
I did. I hunted food often. I didn’t tell him that, trying to feel him out. I narrowed my gaze, wanting to get a better look at him.
“Predators stop chasing.” He glanced up at the branches, feeling my eyes on him. “They wait.”
We had that immediate connection, the same one from the foyer.
“And right now,” he forewarned. “You’re confusing my patience with mercy, Hennessy.”
Hearing him say my name did something to the core, something I’d never felt before, at least not like this. I couldn’t describe it. I could barely understand it.
“You can choose when this ends,” he coaxed instantly.
More silence from me.
“Stay up there if it brings you comfort, but that doesn’t change the outcome for you.
Your actions have consequences at the Graves, you need to know that now.
All you’re doing is delaying the inevitable and further pissing me off, both of which won’t end well for you.
” He stared upward, and I tried to hide my body from him.
“Consider this my first warning to you. If tonight is any indication on how you’ll behave, it’ll be one of many.
” He paused for another moment before asking, “What was your plan here? To become part of the forest?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, waiting for I don’t know what.
“Trees don’t keep secrets forever. Eventually, someone always brings an axe.”
I didn’t move.
“Now come down and I’ll be easy on you,” he demanded all in one breath.
Nine words that held a lot of meaning. It was an order, not a request. Still, nothing from me. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“I’d rather this be your decision,” he insisted. “I’d enjoy the alternative far more than you would.”
He paused like he was waiting for me to come to my senses.
When I didn’t move, his voice softened in a way that felt more dangerous. “Now be a good girl, and I’ll reward you. Unless, of course, you want me to come get you. Seeing as it’s only a matter of time before you’re screaming my name anyway.”
I didn’t hesitate. “Ni cagando!” which translated to, “No fucking way.”
I heard him chuckle. “Good. I would’ve been disappointed had you chosen the other way.”
When his footsteps suddenly retreated, I listened until I couldn’t hear him anymore. He definitely wouldn’t have left that easily. He was up to something, probably following through on his threat. He was about to learn I wasn’t scared of him. I wasn’t scared of anyone.
The silence didn’t last nearly long enough. Wood scraped against stone, and metal clanged somewhere in the distance among the forest. He was loud now. The sounds that followed were heavy, dragging through the underbrush.
I frowned despite myself. Minutes later, he reappeared with a bright lantern, guiding him through the trees. He dragged an old metal ladder that looked like it weighed two hundred pounds, hauling it effortlessly as though he’d been trained to.
I bit, “What are you doing?”
Without an ounce of remorse or shame, he spewed, “Collecting you.”
“The hell you are!” I held back a curse. “You need to go!”
He laid the ladder against the tree. “I gave you a choice.” The ladder juddered beneath the weight of his body.
My eyes widened when I realized he was following through, coming to snatch me out of this tree.
“So now we do this my way.”
Carajo… I thought. Shit.
Never taking his eyes off where he placed his hands, he climbed until the ladder couldn’t take him farther, stopping several feet below my branch.
Pulling himself onto one of the branches, he flowed with natural precision, like he’d been climbing trees long before he feared falling, just like me.
He only stopped once he was a branch below mine.
His hoodie was pulled over his head, and I couldn’t see much of his face. The same way I hadn’t when we were in the foyer earlier.
His breathing may have been ragged. I hoped his lungs burned, but he looked calm and composed, freaking me the hell out. He climbed this tree far too easily. He was experienced.
Why?
Spiteful, I snapped, “I would’ve chosen the bear.”
A ghost of a smile threatened the corner of his mouth, though it disappeared before it ever truly formed. He didn’t bother hiding the flicker of amusement that spread across his face as he taunted, “Who says you didn’t?”
My heart stuttered, searching his shadowed expression for any trace that he was joking. I didn’t find one.
“You’re insane,” I simply stated.
“Sanity is overrated.”
“You think you’re a bear?” I challenged, not backing down.
He tilted his head. “No.”
I pressed, “Then what are you?”
He didn’t answer, watching me instead.
I hated how long it took before he finally argued, “Wrong question. Now ask me the right one.”
My jaw tightened. “Which is?”
He held my gaze. “The one you’re afraid to ask.”
My patience broke like a thread. “Do any of you answer the questions you’re asked?”
He leaned back against the tree, getting far too comfortable. “Only when it’s earned.”
“Yeah,” I mocked. “Well, I don’t owe you anything.”
“No.” He cocked his head further, studying me as if he already knew the answer. “But you do owe yourself honesty.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re wondering why you’re still up here with me.”
“If I had another choice—”
“You do.” His words cut through mine. “Just jump.”
Two words that hung heavy between us like a bomb. My grip tightened around the bark. He was fully aware I wouldn’t do it.
With that, a smile actually crossed his face, calling me out, “Exactly.”
My stomach twisted into knots as his stare dropped to my hands. “You’re holding on too tightly. Your fingers are going to go numb.”
Subconsciously, I glanced down at how far I’d fall.
“You don’t trust me,” he said out of nowhere.
“No shit.”
“Good,” he mused. “Trust only gets you killed. It’s instinct that keeps you alive.”
I flinched. “My instinct is why I’m here.”
“This is where you thought no one would find you?”
“I’m not hiding.”
“No?”
“I just wanted to be alone.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Yes.”
His stare lingered on me for a moment. “Convince me why.”
I repeated, “I just wanted to be alone.”
“No, you wanted to disappear. That’s the difference.”
I ignored his observation and made my own. The forest seemed to breathe around him. It knew him. It was how he could climb this tree in the first place.
Reading my mind yet again, he suggested, “You should’ve picked another tree.”
“You were watching me,” I accused. “That’s how you found me?”
He was quiet long enough for the wind to answer for him, but then he shared, “I knew where you’d go.”
“How?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he nodded to the branch to the left of me, flashing his light on it. There, half worn down, was what looked like a date.
10-31-12
The numbers were carved deep enough that the tree had grown around them.
“What’s that?” My gaze drifted from the date back to him. His expression hadn’t changed. He was still staring at the numbers.
If this date meant something to him, he didn’t show it in the least.
Unable to resist, I asked, “Did you carve that?”
Again, silence.
“Do you ever answer a question?”
“Only the important ones.”
“Fine.” I asked, “Then why are you here?”
His stare connected with mine again. “Because you are.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one that matters.” He held my gaze without blinking. “You wanted them to forget you… They didn’t. If anything, you only provoked them.”
“You think you have me all figured out, don’t you?”
“I’m just waiting for you to prove me wrong.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. And who are they?” I finally questioned. “As far as I know, I’m here because of my uncle.”
He glanced toward the darkness below. The wind cut through the branches, and for the first time that night, I couldn’t tell if I was shivering from the cold or from someone seeing straight through me.
He didn’t answer me, not that I expected him to. I didn’t know what his purpose was in this. All I knew was that whatever game he was playing, I was already part of it.
Whether I wanted to be or not.
The silence settled between us. It felt heavy, more uncomfortable this time. Too much yet not enough had been shared between us.
“If you wait me out,” I warned, “you’ll only fall asleep eventually.”
“So will you.”
“Yeah, but I won’t fall out of this tree.”
His eyes closed for only a second before he acknowledged, “You’re right, you won’t.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but then he rasped, “The search is over.”
“What are you doing?” I instantly panicked.
“Fixing your mistake.”
“What—”
“You still think I’m here to save you.” His expression hardened. “I gave you a choice, but you stayed, so now you live with the consequences.”
“And what’s that?”
“Me.”
I recoiled.
“Over here!” he shouted into the night, his deep voice echoing through the trees so clearly.
Somewhere in the distance, voices rumbled.
“Hijo de puta,” I hissed. “You son of a bitch.”
“No.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I’m actually your new neighbor.”
Catching me off guard, he delivered his final blow, speaking with conviction…
“I’m Devereaux’s son, Onyx.”