Page 12 of Canvas of Lies (Spruce Hill #3)
Chapter Eight
Kat
O nce I reached the bedroom, I brushed out my hair even as my mind raced through the options before me. I listened to the sound of the water turning on in the bathroom, waited for an interminable minute to tick past on the bedroom clock, then swiftly and silently dressed.
I couldn’t do it, couldn’t stay here playing house with him, all the while knowing Nico was about to put himself in the line of fire the moment he made contact with my father. It was clear as day he wouldn’t allow me to sway him from this idiotic plan.
Even if going through with it would put his life at risk.
My heart clenched in my chest. I didn’t know if Nico had ever put it together, the conversation we overheard in the office that night and the mangled body found nearly three years later, but that was only the tip of the iceberg when it came to the rumors.
The best thing I could do was get the hell out of there and put as much distance between us as possible, for Nico’s own protection.
If he didn’t have me to bargain with, he should be safe enough. Hell, maybe I could get the painting for him on my own. If I could sneak out of my father’s house as I had so many times in my teenage years, surely I could sneak back in and grab the artwork off the wall.
I would do whatever it took to keep Nico from putting himself in that kind of danger.
In under two minutes, I was dressed in my own clothes and tiptoeing out into the living room. I slung my purse across my chest, then grabbed my jacket, a granola bar from a box on the kitchen counter, and a bottle of water from the fridge before slipping out the door.
Hiking wasn’t really my area of expertise, but I knew better than to set off without any food or water. Unfortunately, I wasn’t sure how far we were from civilization. Hopefully not as far as the woods made it seem, because I didn’t have a backpack to fill with more supplies.
The morning air was cool, though the sky was clear, and I thought I had a fairly good recollection of the path we’d taken the day before.
I would need to pace myself, but since my head start was vital, I started off at a jog.
It wouldn’t take Nico long to figure out I was gone—a few more minutes, maybe?
I needed to take advantage of every second to put some distance between us.
Of course, beyond that, I hadn’t a clue what would happen next. I had no idea where the cabin was located, only that I hadn’t seen any others during our outing the previous day. No signs of life, no indication of where the hell I was or how far it might be between here and home.
A web of tiny fractures spread within my chest, a heartbreak so poignant I couldn’t hold back a strangled sob as I ran. Only the determination to protect Nico drove me on when I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and weep.
So close. I’d been so close to finally getting what I’d longed for my entire life, but I couldn’t sit there and wait for him to paint a target on his own back.
Nico was, at the very heart of him, the most honorable person I’d ever known. It was just like him to assume everyone else would act with honor, when I knew for a fact that my father would go to the ends of the earth to defend against an insult like losing something he considered his.
Why had he stolen it?
The question rattled inside my head as I ran until a stitch in my side forced me to slow to a walk.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, then made my feet keep moving.
I considered myself in reasonably good shape, but clearly I was wrong. With a vow to start exercising more frequently, maybe something more strenuous than yoga, I trotted along, weaving between trees along a path I prayed led toward the creek.
With my sense of time and direction now distorted by the endless trees surrounding my position, I guessed fifteen or twenty minutes had passed before I heard the distant sound of Nico yelling my name.
I froze for a second, listening, but he didn’t sound terribly close. My heart hammered so loudly in my chest that I was afraid I wouldn’t hear him coming even if he did manage to reduce the distance my head start had given me.
After another few minutes, the trees opened up before me so suddenly I almost stumbled.
Instead of the creek, a steep, rocky incline rose in front of me, stretching like a wall as far as I could see in either direction.
Another shout pierced the silence behind me, this one sounding much closer, and I swore colorfully as I scrambled up the rocks.
If the short stints of running had convinced me I was out of shape, trying to scale the incline made me feel like a helpless infant.
“Damn, damn, damn, damn,” I muttered, turning the word into a mantra.
This was nothing like the movies. Each crumbling fingerhold took impossibly long for me to locate and even longer for me to use to haul my body another incremental inch upward. A branch sprouted from the split rock a few feet from the top—I focused on it with single-minded determination.
If I could reach that branch, I could use it to pull myself to the top.
“Go, go, go,” I chanted, biting back a shriek when my left hand slipped and a spray of sediment rained down onto my face.
I closed my eyes just in time to keep the dirt out. Nico had stopped yelling my name, which I hoped meant he’d moved in another direction. This climb was taking far too long.
By the time I wrapped the fingers of my right hand around the tree branch, every muscle in my body trembled in protest. From there, it was only a short distance to the top, but I made the mistake of glancing down and realized my hands were clinging to the rockface ten or twelve feet from the ground.
The drop wouldn’t kill me, but the thought of losing that painstaking progress made me want to weep. I’d just managed to swing my other hand over the branch when I heard Nico stumble to a halt somewhere behind me.
“Jesus, Kat,” he gasped when he caught sight of me dangling against the rocks.
For a moment, I froze, unable—and unwilling—to turn my head to look at him, then I lifted one leg and braced my foot against a tiny ledge to boost myself up another twelve inches or so.
If I could just get the other foot up, I’d be high enough to throw my body over the branch and hope it held my weight.
From there, reaching the top would be simple.
If I let myself think about how much less time it would probably take Nico and all his impressive muscles to climb up after me, I would cry .
“Kitten,” Nico called, his voice gentle as he slowly approached. “You’ve gone far enough. Let me help you down.”
“Not a chance,” I ground out, then I muffled a whimper as my fingers cramped.
Though the words were soft, I distinctly heard Nico mutter, “Stubborn as ever.”
When I glanced over my shoulder at him, I saw he was out of breath from running after me, his arms and neck scratched from dodging through the underbrush. I refused to feel bad for putting him through that.
A few more inches, that was all I needed.
I managed to find a foothold, adjusted my grip, and tried to propel myself upward, but the rock crumbled beneath my boot and I dropped until my arms were fully extended, painfully wrenching both shoulders as the wound on my arm reopened and warm blood seeped along my skin.
The cry of dismay was past my lips before I could stop it.
“Kat, please,” Nico said, standing below me.
My boots swung just above his head. He reached up to touch my ankle and I kicked out at him so hard he had to back up a few steps to avoid taking a boot to the face.
It was clear to us both that I was just about at the end of my endurance, I knew that when he stepped aside and planted his hands on his hips to wait me out.
Sweat trickled down my temple, mingling with dust from the rock debris.
If I fell now, the tumble would hurt like hell, but if I made it to the top, Nico might not be able to catch up to me again.
The chance of losing him in the forest was both terrifying and exhilarating.
From the way my arms shook as I managed to crawl another few inches upward, the choice was very likely in the hands of fate at this point. Nico just stood there, watching, probably planning to catch me when I finally lost my grip.
It’d serve him right if I flattened him on my way down.
I would rather chop off my arm than admit defeat in front of him, but I was beginning to suspect this venture was doomed.
If my arms gave out and I fell, I’d have very little control over the landing.
If I accepted his assistance, I might save myself from bodily injury, though my pride was another story.
“Let me help you,” Nico said softly, as though he’d heard my thoughts.
“I can’t,” I replied, the words coming out in a hoarse whimper. Even if I wanted to agree, I didn’t think I could move my arms enough to let go.
With experience born of a lifetime spent saving me from various scrapes, Nico understood exactly what I meant.
The bottom of the incline was a little less steep than the section I’d managed to make it to, so he leaned forward and picked his way up a few feet, until my knees were just above his head.
Carefully, he wrapped one hand around my calf.
“Give me a second. Once I have a good hold on you, you can just let go. I’ll catch you. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise. ”
My response was a muffled snort. I didn’t kick him again, which was as close to agreement as he was going to get.
It took longer than a second, but his presence beside me was comforting, even if my sweaty palms kept slipping.
By the time I felt his arm hook firmly around the back of my knees, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to wait for his signal.
“Come on, Kitten, let go,” he said. “I’m going to try to keep you from tearing your skin against the rocks as you come down, okay?”
His grip on the wall didn’t seem terribly secure, but he had a hold of my legs, at least. Before I could make a conscious decision to let go, my left hand slid loose of its own volition, so I closed my eyes and let go with my right as well.
For a brief second, my body slid down along his and it seemed like we would make it out of this unscathed. Then the momentum caused Nico to lose his footing on the loose rocks. He tumbled backward even as he clutched me against the safety of his chest.
The impact of us both striking the forest floor forced the air from his lungs in an audible rush. I landed on top of him, my head bouncing hard against his sternum as we hit the ground, then I scrambled onto my knees beside him. He lay still as death, eyes closed.
Terror rocketed through me, stealing my breath.
“Oh shit,” I gasped, framing his face with my hands. “Shit, shit, shit. Please don’t be dead. Don’t be dead, Nico, open your eyes! Please, please don’t be dead. ”
I released his face to run my hands over his skull, his arms, his ribcage, whispering the plea over and over until a harsh sob tore from my throat. Nico peeled his eyes open, caught my wrists in one hand, and tugged until I was sprawled across him once more. With a groan, he closed his eyes again.
“I appreciate your concern, Kitten, but I’m very much alive.”