Moth(58)

“Yeah, thanks, but no thanks. I’d rather not know the first female I’ve cared about in years was purposely planning on offing me. Thanks a f*cking lot for that bit of information. Next time maybe you could start with that, so I don’t waste my time and energy trying to make you mine.” When the words escape my lips I realize what I’ve just admitted. She’s shocked. I can tell from the way her huge eyes flash before me.

“I wasn’t faking.”

“How am I supposed to believe you? A few minutes ago you had a gun pointed to my f*cking head.”

“I thought I could do it. I thought I could pull that trigger myself, but everything we’ve shared kept flashing in my mind. I don’t want to hurt you, Moth. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I took an oath to serve my country and it meant something to me. I don’t know what to do anymore. Either way I’m dead. My life is over. I thought I could infiltrate my way to the truth, but it’s gotten me an early funeral instead.”

We sit there for a couple minutes saying nothing. What is there to talk about? The woman I’ve been sharing a bed with almost offed me. Whether she wanted to or not isn’t the problem. I don’t know how to trust her, and I don’t see that changing. Sure, I have the answers I need, and she’s probably the link we’ll require to take this operation down, but it can’t be anything more than a business decision. I stand and offer my hand to help her do the same. As soon as she takes it I’m shoving her up against the wall, my face close to hers as fury takes control over me. “You think you could f*cking play me? You think you’re above the law? You should be scared for your life, because it’s taking everything in me not to f*cking take you out myself. I never should have let a little whore like you into my bed, but * is *. You offered so I took that shit and I don’t regret it either, but your cherry leaves a bad taste in my mouth so now I have no other choice but to do whatever it takes to end this charade.”

She kicks me between the legs and breaks free of my hold, hightailing it out the front door in nothing but her thong. I know she won’t get far, so I manage to slip on a pair of pants and jacket before going after her. She’s left her gun in the cabin. I take it and a flashlight with me since it’s still dark out. I listen for the sound of leaves crashing against her feet. It’s drizzling, making it difficult to distinguish from nature and human. I make my way toward the road where the truck is parked in a hidden location inside the gates. I spot a glimpse of her foot before it ducks behind a large oak tree. She’s not getting away from me this time. I have her in my sights. “You need to come out and face me, Nina.”

“Screw you, Moth. I’d rather freeze to death than listen to your orders. Just call this what it is – the end. Let me go my way and you go yours. You’ll never see me again.”

I shake my head. “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. You have two choices. You can come out and head back to the cabin with me, or I can force you. If I were you I’d take the first option, because I will use force with the second.”

She darts out behind the tree and begins running down a steep embankment. I vividly remember being told to steer clear of it when I was younger. There’s a stream at the bottom, but it’s mangled with sticker bushes and other plant-like obstacles that could inflict a very painful tumble.

“Wait! Stop!” I try to warn her before seeing her disappear.

I’m only seconds behind, but it’s a enough time to see that she’s rolled about forty yards down the steep hill. She’s holding onto her leg and rocking back and forth in excruciating pain, or at least she seems to be. If I don’t approach this with caution it could cost me my life.

I maneuver down the embankment until I reach her. After shining the light around I see her predicament is real. Blood is oozing out of a pretty deep gash in her upper thigh. Thorns are wrapped around her ankles, which inadvertently stopped her from reaching the bottom and landing in the stream. I don’t know what to address first, so I stick the gun in the back of my pants while keeping the flashlight shined on her. She’s crying, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s scared for her life or the pain. Normally I carry a knife, but because of the clothing situation I have nothing to work with. I begin the tedious task of removing the briars one at a time, cutting my hands on the wet thorns as I go.

“Just leave me here. I’ll die of hypothermia by the time morning comes.”

“Shut the f*ck up. You’re not dying on my watch. I won’t have your blood on my hands.”

She’s screaming when I get closer to her wound. I’m worried I won’t have the right medical supplies to care for it back at the cabin, but I need to get her there first. By the time I manage to free her ankles she’s too weak to fight me. Her wound looks superficial, but it’s bleeding pretty bad and it’s a long gash, so I know it can’t feel great. Aside from the cut, she’s shivering like crazy, soaking wet, and completely overemotional. No training out there can prepare either of us for what we’re experiencing. We’ve been betrayed. We’ve trusted the wrong person, and I don’t know about her, but I’ve become emotionally involved to a point I’m certain I’ll live to regret.

Carrying her back to the cabin isn’t a struggle. I’m two times her size with enough body heat and muscle to manage easily. She sobs against my exposed chest, every once in a while pleading for me to forgive her. At any given time she could reach around to retrieve her weapon from the back of my trousers, but she doesn’t. Instead she clings to my neck like her life depends on it.