Finally, he settles on something that works for him.
“Home,” he says. The word is very crisp and very polite and very straightforward, but it really doesn’t answer my question at all.
Home?
But I have a home.
I look over at my tiny, raggedy tent. Okay, so my home is kind of trash. It’s not my fault. At least, that’s what I tell myself. Maybe I should have left Eagleton years ago and taken a chance on living alone, but I didn’t. I was scared, yeah, and I was worried. I didn’t want to go wandering off. It wasn’t that I was afraid of monsters, but that I was afraid of Edna’s memory.
She wouldn’t have wanted me to put myself in harm’s way. There are worse things in the woods than vampires, she told me.
There are wolves.
There are bears.
Someone even told me there is a cannibal, but I don’t know how true that actually is. It seems as though much of the information I’ve received throughout my life has been a bit skewed. Judging by the way this creature looks, I’d say the information I’ve received has been very, very skewed, if not completely false.
“Home?” I finally ask him. I look up at the man, squinting at him. His dark brows furrow, as though he’s not quite sure what else to say to me to get me to understand, and oh, I get that. I get that he’s agitated somehow, he’s frustrated. I don’t have the necessary skill set to survive this situation.
“Home,” he repeats.
Okay, so he’s going to play up the mysterious thing. He’s going to play up the dark and dashingly handsome thing. Mr. I-Wear-Leather and I-Have-a-Vest and I-Look-Like-I-Could-Eat-You-Alive wants to play secrets.
I can deal with that.
If it means that his attention is focused on me, then I’m pretty sure I can deal with just about anything. I’m scared that I’m so attracted to this guy because I’ve never experienced true attraction before, but I’m also excited and turned on and wondering what exactly is going to happen when we get “home.”
Instead of pressing that issue, I decide to approach the man from a different angle. If I switch topics, will he answer my questions?
“You were in the woods yesterday,” I accuse him gently. What’s he going to say? Is he going to deny it? I still feel like I might be going crazy, and it’s kind of taking all of my energy to make myself feel like I’m not.
I’m not going crazy.
Am I?
“Yes,” he says.
“You were with two others.”
“Yes.”
“Who are they?”
He hesitates again, and this time, I think he’s definitely going to answer me, but he just shakes his head.
“You’ll meet them soon. Now come.”
“But...”
He starts walking, and he pulls my hand as he moves along. I try to free it, but his grip is firm, and tight. I yank again, unready to go with him. Wherever the hell he’s taking me, I don’t know where I’m going to end up.
Is this a place that’s going to be safe?
Somehow, I’m guessing that wherever we’re about to go is not going to be a haven. Not by a long shot.
I dig my heels into the ground, but they slip and slide in the dirt. The man seems completely unbothered by this, and he keeps walking. Eventually, I give up trying to escape. Instead, I decide to ask a question of him. If I pester him with questions, he eventually has to answer, right? He definitely will. He’s got to.
“Sir?” I whisper, and he stops instantly. He stops so fast that I bump into him and stumble backwards, but he drops my hand and instead reaches for my shoulders.