Rules of Protection(78)

The hunting blind darkened more and more until I could hardly see anything. I propped open a rotting, hinged window, but it was a moonless night and just as dark outside as it was inside. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, listening to the sound of the rain slapping the roof and feeling the walls shake every time the thunder rolled. The storm kept up its strength, but after a while, I lost what was left of mine.

I slumped back, trying to doze off, but couldn’t. When I opened my eyes again, panic hit me. It was pitch black, darker than dark, and I saw nothing, as if someone had stolen my vision. Many people are born not being able to see, but for a person with sight to go instantly blind, the terror is tremendous. It went against every grain in my body.

Fear weaved through my mind, conjuring up scenarios and tainted thoughts as to what happens to a girl alone in the woods at night. An image of Bigfoot popped into my head. Then one of vultures picking flesh from my bones. I guess I needed a legitimate cause for my insomnia, something besides staying alert in case Jake came looking for me.

Though I had blamed him earlier, I knew it wasn’t Jake’s fault that I was in this mess. If I were being honest with myself, I’d admit I had lost my way years before, after learning of my parents’ deaths. In some ways, I still felt like that lost little girl who had no one to turn to. No one who cared. No one to trust.

But that wasn’t true. Not anymore. I had people who were looking out for me. And Jake would find me. That I was sure of. He’d probably kill me once he did, but he would definitely not stop searching until he got the chance.

It was a comforting thought, but it still scared the hell out of me at the same time. Because what if I trusted him to come for me and he didn’t? Like my parents…or my policeman…

After it finally stopped raining, sleep deprivation and fatigue kicked in.

I fell asleep, dreaming I was in some sort of terrarium. I hiked through a forest, crawling over sticks and rocks in my path, sluggishly trying to find my way through the never-ending greenery. As I piloted my way through the dream, I realized someone watched me, waited for me, called to me. The two men who stepped out of the woods with the rope and shovel entered my thoughts. Voodoo people? The one missing an eyeball reached for me and said, “I want to feel your nice, warm innards.”

I cringed as his face morphed into Sergio’s, his blank, dead stare sending chills through my bones. He touched his cold fingers to my neck, and I shoved his hand away. He grasped my shoulders, shaking me and, although I screamed, he wouldn’t let go.

Then I heard a familiar whuffling sound. A horse? Yes, that’s it. The same sound I heard when I went into the barn to talk to…Jake!

Disconnecting from my dream, I felt someone’s hands on my shoulder and opened my eyes. The light of a lantern glowed behind a large, dark figure. It shadowed his face, but I knew the man wasn’t Jake. I shot backward and put my hands up instinctually for protection.

“Emily…it’s me.”

“Junior?” I leaned closer, caught a whiff of wintergreen, and relief swept over me.

He gathered me in a tight bear hug I hadn’t known I needed until he’d given it. “You’re okay,” he crooned softly, rubbing my shoulder. “Your feet…how bad are they?”

I pulled back from him and wiped at my face with the back of my hand. “They’re sore. How’d you find me?”

“I used to be a tracker, remember?” He pulled a canteen from around his shoulder, unscrewed the cap, and handed it to me. “It’s something I’ve always done well.”

He watched as I guzzled a large amount of water. Then he used the canteen to wash some of the mud off my feet, trying to get a better look at their condition. “You’ve got some thorns embedded.”

“Can you get them out?”

Stone-faced, Junior pulled the large buck knife from the sheath on his belt. My mouth dropped open. Last thing I wanted was someone poking my feet with a pint-sized sword, making them hurt more.

“Wait! Isn’t there a less painful solution?”

Amusement flickered in his eyes as he put his knife away. “Floss can take care of them for you when we get you back to the house. Can you stand?”

I tried to, but pain shot through my feet, pulling me back down.

“Scoot toward the door. I’ll help you from there.”

Junior slung the canteen strap over his shoulder and picked up the lantern. He pushed open the blind door and clicked his tongue. A large black stallion moved into view, wearing a saddle with the butt of a rifle sticking up next to it. The horse bobbed his head and gave a snort as he came closer, responding to his master’s gentle command.

Effortlessly, Junior lifted me onto the horse. He grabbed the lantern and the reins, then led us away from the blind on foot.

“Junior, you’re going the wrong way.”

He shot me a challenging look. “You want to trade places? I’ll ride and you can walk us out.”

I winced. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a backseat driver. Sometimes I have control issues.”

“Sometimes?” Junior laughed, as if he regarded me as entertainment. “I thought Lucy was demanding and free-spirited, but she never had anything on you.”

“Lucy?”

“My daughter.”

“Oh, yeah. The one with the great taste in clothes. I bet she wreaked havoc on your wallet,” I said, gripping the saddle horn tighter as the horse followed Junior down a slight hill.