Page 12

Chapter 12

Lillian

“ F ucking shittenass cocksucking motherfucker!” I scream as I run for my life, scraping the bottoms of my feet against rocks and fallen debris I’m too terrified to avoid.

Behind me, the coyote barks, tearing its way through the clearing. I can hear its approach hot on my heels. Fuck fuck fuck!!!!

This is it.

I’m going to die.

Eaten to death by a coyote in the middle of a deserted island in Lake Superior, of all places.

And no one will care. No one will even know whatever happened to me. I doubt there will be enough of my body left to identify the remains…

Crack!

I tumble ass-over-teakettle as a fallen branch snaps under my bare foot, twisting my ankle unnaturally as it catches in the brambles. I manage to free myself, but when I try to get back up, my leg collapses under my weight.

“Ow!” Fuck fuck fuck!!

The coyote slows at the sounds, but I can see its furry body inch closer, sniffing all the way. Its wild, yellow eyes spot me sprawled out on the forest floor, and I swear drool drips from its jowls.

Yep. I’m going to die.

“Lillian!”

I snap my neck in the direction of the voice, tearing my eyes away from the predator’s at just the wrong moment. The coyote leaps, and I burrow my face into the brush and cover my head with my arms like a fifth grader hiding under their desk during an intruder drill.

I know it won’t save me. But I’d rather the last thing I see not be the rabies-infected jaws of a wild animal.

Our father, which art in heaven…

Oh God, am I praying right now??

I must be really fuckin desperate.

My body shakes as the seconds of my demise stretch out further and further, and I think this must be it. The moment where my life flashes before my eyes. The final reckoning before I see the light at the end of the tunnel…

Only, none of that happens.

Instead, a swoosh sound slices through the air above my head and a strangled, animalistic cry rings out through the forest. Footsteps run past me, followed by a little scuffling, and then a dull, sickening crack before all goes silent.

And I, miraculously, am still alive.

I peek from behind my fingers, raising my head just enough to get a line of sight from behind the fallen branch. And there, standing over the unnaturally bent corpse of a dead coyote, is Erik.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he maneuvers a long wooden handle. With a gross squelch that will absolutely haunt my nightmares later, he frees a sharpened spear tip from the hide of the coyote.

Oh. My. God.

Erik saved me.

With a fucking spear.

Um… is it the adrenaline talking, or is that the hottest thing any man has ever done for me?

Laughter bubbles through the trees, and my shoulders start to shake. I look around disbelievingly, trying to see who on earth would find this primal display funny, only to realize…

It’s me.

I’m the one laughing.

Ah, fuck.

And I can’t stop.

I try. God knows I try to close my mouth, take a breath, regulate my body in any way I can think of, but the hysteria won’t stop. Tears stream down my cheeks and I wipe at them uselessly, gasping for air as the laughter turns manic, and my chest starts trembling, and I–

“Lillian! Lillian, please. Speak to me.”

Erik is holding me now, his sweaty arms sticking to the burnt, clammy skin of my back as he tries to calm me down. It hurts, but it also feels like the only thing in the world that I want right now: to be held, to be protected, to be cared for.

“E-Erik, I–I…”

“It is alright, Lillian. You are safe. Breathe.”

As if my lungs were waiting for his permission, I suck in a massive gulp of air. So big I cough a little as I regulate my breathing, trying to remember what my therapist used to say when I’d start to get anxiety attacks after my miscarriage.

“Your body thinks it’s real, Lillian, but you can trick it. You can convince it that you’re okay. Count with your breaths: in for four seconds, hold for four, out for four, hold for four. Can you do that? With me…”

His large, calloused hand weaves through the tangled mass of my hair and cradles my head. Slowly, he hugs me, holding my head to his as he breathes with me, matching my inhales and exhales and pauses like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Like this is totally normal.

Like I’m totally normal.

But nothing about this is fucking normal! The tears are pouring like faucets now, drenching my face, and snot is dripping from my nose and making it even harder to regulate my breathing. The raw skin of my shoulders rubs against Erik’s embrace and through it all, he holds me close. Breathing with and soothing me like only he can, speaking mind-to-mind, as our gills lay flat against our necks.

No Lillian, his voice soothes in my head. Nothing about this is normal.

A fresh sob breaks forth, and he squeezes me tighter, massaging his fingers into my scalp. It feels so nice, such a glistening silver lining in this absolute shit show of a cloudy situation.

I just wanted to get some food, I reply. I was trying to hunt a deer, but then the coyote…

He pulls back to look at my face, a sparkle lighting in his light gray eyes. “You were hunting?”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “I’m so hungry.”

He takes in my surroundings, looking down at the brambles around us and taking in my ankle, which is swollen now, and bleeding lazily from a few shallow scrapes.

“You do not have a weapon.”

“I had a slingshot.”

“A slingshot?” His face screws up tight, and it takes me a second to parse out his expression.

“Are you… are you laughing at me, Erik??”

“You cannot hunt large game with a slingshot!”

“You can if you shoot out its eye!”

He’s laughing in earnest now, and I’m sure my blotchy, tearstained, sunburnt face is an even deeper shade of red as his grip on me loosens. He tries to catch his breath, but I shove him away.

“I’m serious! I’ve seen in the movies that if you shoot a deer in the eye…” I start off strong, indignant, even, before the stupidity of my words sinks in and I trail off. “What do you know, anyway?”

He gestures to the spear lying a couple feet away from us. Gives me a knowing look.

“I hate you, you know that?”

Actual hurt crosses his features, and the laughter leaves his eyes immediately. “Perhaps you should. It is my fault–”

“No! No, Erik, I didn’t mean that literally!” Guilt grips my stomach as I take in the pain in his expression. “I was just embarrassed. You saved me! How could I hate you?”

“It is my fault you needed to be saved. All of this could have been prevented, if I had never seen you bathing naked in the lake.”

I let out a breath, and it fans a few hairs into my face. I swipe them away with a shrug. “By that logic, it’s my fault for going swimming naked in the lake.”

“Lillian–”

“We could go back and forth for hours like this, Erik. It doesn’t matter. The fact of the matter is, I’m stuck here, and I’m probably going to die now that my ankle is broken. I can’t hunt deer if I can’t fucking walk.”

And, sure, I’m a little sulky as I admit it. And I understand that a sour attitude isn’t going to help my situation right now. But the last thing I want to do is play the blame game with the only person who’s offered me any sympathy in the past week.

Erik’s lips flatten in a stern line, as if he wants to argue more, but then his brow relaxes and he nods.

“Then I will carry you.”

“Erik–!” His name turns into a squeal as he manhandles his giant, muscly arms underneath my knees and ribcage and hoists me into the air. I’m literally on the ground one second, and then the next I’m getting up close and personal with my boobs smashed against this Viking’s blonde chest hair.

Breathing in his scent.

Wrapping my arms around his neck.

“Th–this isn’t necessary,” I stutter, my face scorching from more than just my sunburn. But he’s already walking us back towards the clearing.

“I have a shelter not far from here. I can tend to your wounds there, and you can recover safely.”

I open my mouth to protest when he hoists me higher. I end up squeaking again instead, and decide it’s best I keep my mouth shut until we get to his shelter.