Page 50
Story: Dissent
24: The Babysitter
Idoveforthebranch, wrapped my fingers around it, and swung with as much force as I could, but not before the massive weight of the lion threw me backwards, claws out and maw wide open. We tumbled to the ground, rolling until I found myself flat on my back and staring up at the jaws of my own personal grim reaper looking to collect. But I snagged the branch—somehow—and got it between us, creating the crappiest, life-saving barrierever! I pushed up against the cat as it snapped its fangs at me—its rancid, hot breath filling my nostrils, making me gag. It was taking everything I had to hold the lion above me, pushing against him as he repeatedly snapped his monstrous jaws again and again with a snarl.
I screamed.
This was it. I couldn’t keep his weight off me much longer. As I felt my arm muscles about to give out, time was suspended. And then…everything happened fast. The lion lifted a paw, claws extended to swipe at me. I closed my eyes, turning my face away from the blow when I heard branches snapping, a grunt, and the snarling hiss of the cat above me all at once. The weight was suddenly off, and my eyes flew open to look, realizing that I was no longer pinned by the lion.
I scrambled, throwing the branch off me as I got to my feet and noticed the scuffle occurring before me. The lion roared as a familiar face took the branch and whipped it around in front of him, smacking the creature, causing it to take a step back as it growled.
“Wes!”
“Stay back, Mara,” he yelled over his shoulder as he swung the branch again. The beast snarled as it swiped at the branch. He screamed back at it, swinging the branch, hard and fast. This time, it made contact, and the lion growled as it took several steps back, ears pinned flat against its head. Wes took a step toward it, his own roar emanating from deep within him. The cat hissed again, taking another step backward. Ears still pinned, the creature finally closed its mouth, turned away from us, and ran off into the forest.
I gasped, placing a hand over my heart as relief came crashing through me. My body shook, my legs feeling as though they were about to collapse. I looked at Wes, his own chest heaving with ragged breaths. He tossed the branch to the floor and turned his gaze back on me, our eyes meeting.
Wes had just saved my life.
Panting, I racked my brain, unsure of what to say, but he spoke before I had a chance.
“Are you hurt?”
I looked down at myself, holding out my arms, then looking at my legs before shaking my head. By the grace of god, I had come out unscathed. “I’m fine. Are you?”
He closed his eyes for a second, taking in several long breaths before reopening them. “Don’t worry about me. As long as you’re okay.”
We stood there, staring at each other.
“Thank you,” I finally managed, breaking the silence.
“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was tart, annoyed, but laced with something else.
I opened my mouth to respond, but I had nothing. No excuses. Nothing that wouldn’t sound horribly stupid anyway. So I closed my mouth and shrugged my shoulders.
He took in a deep, long breath as he looked away from me. “Don’t do that again.Got it?”
Do what again? Try to find some space—someprivacy—after screwing things up? “I didn’t mean to get lost. I thought I was following a trail, and I—”
He put a hand up, shutting me up. My breath caught in my throat as he looked back at me. “I don’t want to hear fuckin’ excuses, Mara,” he snapped out, tone acidic. “The last thing I need is something happening to you.”
“Right, because you clearly care so much about what happens to me.” No sooner did the words leave my mouth, Wes stormed the gap between us, and I instinctively took several steps backwards, trying to place as much space between me and the furious energy that was Wes. But this time, he matched my every step until I couldn’t back up anymore. My back flattened against a tree with Wes holding me prisoner, his lips only inches away from mine.
“You don’t know anything about me. So don’t pretend to know what I want or who I care about. You got that? You almost got yourself fucking killed. Are you suicidal or just stupid?”
Anger roiled within me. Placing my hands on his chest, I shoved,hard. But it was like shoving a granite boulder. “Neither! And why do you care, anyway? What the hell is your problem?”
“Me?”
“Yeah,you! You’re an ass and then you’re nice and then you’re an ass again. You treat me like I’m a walking plague and glare at me in the caf, like,allthe time!” I pushed him again, but he still didn’t budge. “I just don’t get you.Are you coming or going? And then you throw me around in the arena like a rag doll!” I went to shove him once more, but this time, his hands shot out and grabbed me. We struggled, and I tried to pull my hands free, but all he did was push his body against mine, pinning me in place. It was pointless…the man was like unrelenting stone, and I was tired. With a frustrated sigh, I stopped resisting, and looked up, expecting to catch the hate I knew lived in his eyes.
And then I froze.
Because what I saw wasn’t hate.
It wasn’t hate, or malice, or contempt, or even anger.
Instead, I found myself snared once again by those hazel eyes, and all I saw was…want. A burningwantand…pain. Wes was consumed with an anguish I could almost taste in the air between us. But that pain was intertwined with a longing I just didn’t understand.
Why?
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