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Chapter Ten

MALLORY

W e’ve been walking for hours, and my feet hurt like they do after I’ve cheered at two back-to-back games. The sun is starting to set behind the trees, the air getting colder as the darkness descends. I’ve already tripped over numerous branches and have also almost broken my ankle falling into a hole with these flippers on my feet. I know I have blisters on my feet, and the thought of them popping and getting infected makes me groan. Sadly, I’ve already been there and done that in my cheer career. Maverick has offered to carry me several times, but I’ve refused because he’s already carrying the heavier pack on his back, and I know it’s taking a toll on his shoulders. I’ve offered to switch him packs a few times, and he’s turned me down every time, saying he’s more than capable of shouldering the weight.

We start to head down a hill, my hand clutched tightly in Maverick’s keeping me anchored to his side, but my numb and sore feet trip over themselves, sending us both careening down the hill. My arms swing out trying to grab onto something to stop my descent, but all that gets me is a branch cutting into the skin of my arm. The burning pain has a scream ripping through my throat until it’s whipped out of me when I hit a hard surface. Arms wrap around me as we come to a stop at the bottom of the hill. Maverick’s heaving chest under me has me gasping in relief until the pain in my arm reminds me that I’m hurt. I hiss as I sit up and slide off of his chest, plopping down next to him. Blood seeps from a slash in the sleeve of my sweater, making my heart race at the site. Maverick sees it and pushes my sleeve up, revealing the damage makes us both gasp, him in shock and me in pain.

“God damnit!” His words of anger cause tears to slip out of my eyes and a sob to escape my lips.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Suddenly scared he’s going to punish me for falling and getting hurt while we’re in the middle of nowhere with nothing to help us.

“Shh shh, it’s okay, Pet. We'll get you all fixed up. Here, let’s wrap this around it until we can find somewhere to set up camp and I can fix it properly, okay?” His words are going in one ear and out the other as I watch him strip his belt from his waist and tighten it around my arm, above the wound that’s flowing with blood. I whimper at the sharp pain that ripples through my arm as he tightens the belt so tight my fingers start to tingle. “Hold this up, okay?” He tilts my arm up, and I hold it there with the other hand. He helps me up and then picks me up bridal style against my protest.

Looking around, he spots a cluster of rocks and heads towards it. Plopping me on top of one of the flat ones at the bottom, he places his bag beside me, unzips it, and takes out a thick roll of cloth from the bottom. I eye him suspiciously as he starts unrolling the fabric, revealing several metal poles wrapped up inside of it. He rolls out the fabric and starts digging poles into the ground and pushing others into various holes in the fabric. He tightens some of the rods, and they start to form arches, finally revealing a tent. Laughing to myself at how dumb I am for not knowing what that is, but to be fair, I’ve never slept in a tent a day in my life. Once he has it set up where he wants it, he walks around the small clearing, gathering various sticks and setting them up several feet away from the tent. Next, he goes farther into the woods. I stare after him curiously, watching as he grips a large fallen log and starts dragging it over to him. I stand to go help him, and he glares at me, telling me to sit my ass back down.

Once he’s satisfied with his setup, he grabs a metal zippo from his pocket, flicking it open and leaning down to set the sticks on fire. The fire flickers, barely catching until it bursts into an orange flame, illuminating the night around us. Maverick walks back over, snagging his pack up off the rock next to me. He offers me his hand and helps me up. He steers me over to the log and pushes me down onto it as he takes a seat next to me, the pack settling between his feet. The warmth of the fire finds me, and it almost makes me purr with how good it feels. Maverick pulls out a black case from his pack and sets it on the log between us, as well as a bottle of water and some gauze.

“I’m going to take the belt off, and then we need to get your sweatshirt off.” He doesn’t wait for me to acknowledge him before he starts removing the belt and yanking my sweater up over my head. My head feels dizzy with all of the different sensations, and I’m sure the blood loss. He replaces the belt around my arm and grabs my wrist, dragging it towards him and laying it over my knee. “Keep it there for me, beautiful. This is probably going to hurt, but we need to get it clean to see what we’re working with.” He unscrews the cap of the water bottle and starts to gently pour it over my wound; my teeth grit together from the throbbing pain. He uses a piece of gauze to wipe away as much of the blood as he can, the belt helping to make the blood still seeping from my arm turn into a trickle. “Damn, this is going to need some stitches.” He shakes his head with a curse, and I go to pull my arm away from him, clutching it to my chest.

“No fucking way, Maverick! Just wrap it up with the gauze and it will be fine.” My body shakes from the pain coming from my arm and the fear of him coming near me with a needle. He glares down at me with unsaid words that almost, just almost, put the fear of God into me. “I said no! No needles, please.” His face softens when he catches onto my irrational fear of needles. I know it’s stupid, but damn those bitches hurt, and the thought of them poking into me multiple times over and over makes me want to vomit.

“Mallory, we have to. It’s too deep to heal without them. We can’t risk an infection when we are nowhere near a functioning hospital.” I keep shaking my head, scooting back across the log. His hand snakes out, gripping my thigh, keeping me from moving any farther away. “I’d rather not have to do this out here, but I’d also rather not have to hack your arm off because of an infection either. But it’s your choice, I suppose.” The thought of him having to hack my arm off with the axe that he leaned up against the log behind me when we got here makes me still in my haste to get away. I weigh my options in my head, and it pisses me off when I come to the realization that I’m going to have to sit here while he stabs me over and over like a voodoo doll.

“Fine, just do it. B-b-but be gentle, please…” Stretching my arm back out to him with a whimper, he clutches my wrist in his hand, tugging me closer to him until I’m right where he needs me. He opens the box next to him and pulls out a small white bottle before opening a plastic pack of needles, some thick thread, and some scissor-looking things. He sets them all out on a piece of large cotton next to us. Flipping open the cap of the bottle, he pours the clear liquid over each instrument before bringing it over to my arm. His hand clutching my wrist tight in his own, his eyes drilling into mine with warning. “Do it.” I say through clenched teeth, definitely not prepared for the burning pain that awaits me. As soon as the liquid hits my wound, a whimper seeps out of me, and I try to pull my arm away, but Maverick holds it in an iron grip.

“Don’t touch it or I’ll have to sanitize it all over again.” His warning has me clutching both hands into fists, resisting the urge to pull away. He picks up one of the sinister-looking needles and threads the thread, and then picks up the scissors-looking things, which I realize are actually some type of forceps. He leans down and positions the needle next to my wound as he looks up at me with regret in his eyes. “Brace yourself. If you thought the alcohol hurt, then this will feel like absolute hell.” The tip of the needle starts to pierce my skin, and a scream rips through my throat as he pushes it through, catching it on the skin on the other side of the wound. It feels like he’s ripping me open and trying to scoop my guts out as he pushes the needle through the other side.

“Please stop! It hurts too much!” I let out a sob, but he doesn’t even stop. He just keeps going, sticking me like his own embroidery project. My arm shakes against his leg, and my vision blurs with tears. “Maverick, p-please!” He looks up at me with pity in his eyes, his hands stilling next to my skin. “Knock me out!” His brow quirks at my words, like I just asked him to shove a knife through my heart. “Make me go to sleep.” The words come out in a whimper. He gently places the torture instruments back onto the cotton next to him and stares down at me.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” He asks as he snips off the end of the thread that’s currently sticking out of my arm. I shake my head yes frantically, my chest heaving, tears and snot dripping down my face. “I need your words, Mallory.”

“Yes! Knock me the fuck out already!” As soon as the first word leaves my mouth, his hands are around my throat, squeezing like a vice.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Pet.” He lowers me back onto the log, the jagged bark digging into my back, his hands continuing to squeeze, cutting my air off. “Close your eyes; it will all be over when you wake back up.” His face starts to blur before me, the edges of my vision going black. He squeezes so hard I know I’ll be wearing a necklace of bruises tomorrow. My vision finally goes black, my body going numb. I feel like I’m floating in a black abyss, and the last thing I feel is the touch of his lips on mine.