Really, Darrel?No, of course not. There’s someone else that I care about. I’d tried to banish her from my mind for the last twenty-four hours, but she’s back with a vengeance now.
Stella Jezequel.Her big brown eyes. Her candidness. Her subtle humor. Her delicious form. The unbearable sweetness of her. The way she gasped when I entered her. Her moans of pleasure as I sheathed myself deep inside her and we began to move together. The intoxicating eagerness with which she welcomed me, held me, kissed me, made love to me.
Had I chosen to run and live in some remote part of the world, I would’ve asked Stella to come away with me.
That realization clobbers me into an uncomprehending stupor. I’ve never been into younger women. This thing I’m feeling for her, this profound longing, it has nothing to do with her age. In fact, the opposite is true. I’m feeling it despite her age, and despite her being the daughter of the deranged couple who nearly killed me.
But she’s so much more than that!She was my guardian angel throughout my captivity. She’s the woman who saved my life. The only woman in my sexual fantasies. The only woman on my mind, period.
I do like Charlie. I sincerely believed she was the one for me. But Stella had gotten there first, and she won’t be dislodged. By the time I met Charlie, my brown-eyed wilding had already laid claim to my heart.More than a claim.She’d gone and barricaded herself in it.
That is why, with all her legitimacy as my Key to the Key, with all her beauty, and all my goodwill, Charlie never stood a chance.
It is during that distressing bit of introspection that I notice a thinning of the trees around me. A distant rush of a water reaches my ears from my left. It’s quiet on my right. Heading in that direction, I see a cliff. I approach its edge.Not bad!The cliff is high and overlooks a rocky ravine, similar to the crevice I fell into after my parachute jump. Except this one is deeper. Much deeper. If I step over the edge of this cliff, there’s no surviving that fall.
The wind is stronger here with nothing to break it. I stare down into the abyss. It beckons, offering the way out that I long for. The idea of ending it all right here, right now, before Kurt’s sidekicks get to me grows more appealing by the second.
To quote the man himself, why delay the inevitable?
I keep staring down, my fists clenched, the darkness below mirroring the gloom inside me. The wind tears at my clothes, urging me to jump and whispering that a knight’s honor demands it, that my parents, siblings, and friends will understand that I have no commitments holding me back.
For fuck’s sake, Darrel, do it, already!
DARREL
No commitments? Are you sure about that?
What about my promise to Stella that I’d return in a week’s time to check on her? I made sure she understood it wasn’t a romantic commitment, but that doesn’t change the fact that I gave her my word.A knight’s word.
She’ll be waiting for me. When I don’t turn up next Wednesday, she’ll come up with all sorts of excuses for me and wait longer. It’ll take another week, even a month, until she’ll concede that I’m not coming. She’ll feel betrayed. Samson might inform her that I’d disappeared, but will she believe him? All she’ll know will be that everyone she ever cared for—from her parents to her ex-fiancé to me—lied to her and let her down.
What if she concludes it’s because of her? That something’s wrong with her, that something about her brings out the worst in people?I can’t let her think that!
And what if in her distress she refuses the MESS protection I arranged for her?
With a deep, shuddering breath, I take a step back from the edge of the cliff. My inglorious ending can wait a bit. I need to get to a phone and call Stella. I know her number by heart. Years ago, during my training to join the Royal Security Service I acquired the habit of using my brain rather than the cloud to back up sensitive contacts.
I’m so glad about it now!
As for finding a phone to call from, this is Switzerland, one of the most densely populated countries in the world. There’s no real wilderness here. I’m bound to stumble upon a village, hamlet, or ski resort within an hour or two if I follow a stream.
What will I say to Stella?I’ll warn her not to expect me next week, or later, due to force majeure. I’ll do all I can to convince her that I’m breaking my word because of exigent circumstances, and not because I don’t care about her. I’ll make sure she agrees to keep the protective measures I put in place until MESS analysts confirm that her parents aren’t a threat to her.
Once I have her word, I’ll come back here and finish my little undertaking.
I head toward the sound of the gurgling water, my feet crunching on twigs as I push through the underbrush. When I reach the mountain stream, I drink, and then follow its course, hoping it will lead me to a more accessible area where I might find people, and more importantly, a phone. The water, babbling and cascading over smooth rocks, is my constant companion as I make my way downhill.
The first light of dawn slowly illuminates the treetops.
The terrain begins to change as I continue my descent. The forest floor becomes less cluttered, making it easier for me to navigate. Patches of sky peek out at me through the canopy above me. As I keep following the stream, I notice signs of human presence. In the almost magical light filtering through the trees, a footpath appears beside the water.
It’s ironic how beautiful the world looks on your last day in it.
Another hundred or so meters downstream, I spot the outlines of tire tracks in the muddy ground. A few minutes later, a village comes into view. Like most villages in Savoie, especially on the Swiss side, it exudes rustic charm and tranquility.
Boosted by a renewed sense of purpose, I pick up pace as I cross a lush green meadow speckled with wildflowers, and practically jog toward the houses. The street signs inform me I’m in Morgins. It has everything you’d expect from a village in the Alps. Traditional wooden chalets line the streets, their balconies decorated with colorful flowers. A rooster sings. The surrounding mountains, with their snowcapped peaks, provide a majestic backdrop.
The village is waking up. Soft golden light spills from some of the windows. Here and there, doors creak open, and people emerge. The gentle sound of cowbells echoes in the distance. Someone’s herding livestock to grazing pastures.
