God, what a rough night that had been. She’d gone to the Village early to do laundry at the employee lodge, take a shower, and shave her legs in hopes of finally having sex that night. Then she’d had a lousy evening at work because some jerk had grabbed her butt, and the manager had refused to do a damned thing about it.
“When I got back to camp, it was quiet. I should have known something was wrong, but all I could think about was you.” Megs stroked his arm, his muscles firm beneath her palm. “I’d never felt closer to anyone in my life. I’d never felt as safe with anyone as I did with you.”
She’d certainly never felt as horny. After that day at the lake, she’d lain awake fantasizing about Mitch every night, filling in the sexual blanks with nonsense. It seemed to her that she was on top of the world. Her life was finally coming together. All the pieces had seemed to fit—Mitch, climbing, escaping her past.
That night it had all come crashing down—at least for a time.
She had put her duffel bag of clean laundry in her tent, changed into shorts and a T-shirt, and had gone looking for Mitch. “I saw Gridwall with his split lip. I thought he was acting stranger than usual, but it was hard to tell. You know him. He’s odd on a good day. He told me he’d fallen and hit his mouth on a rock, and I believed him.”
Then Mitch had crawled out of his tent, and she’d known the moment she’d seen his face that something was wrong.
“You took my hand and told me we needed to talk. All I could think was that I’d done something to make you angry.”
The truth had been much darker.
“You tried so hard to break the news gently.” Megs hadn’t taken it well. “I felt violated, completely humiliated, exposed, ashamed. Not only had they gotten into my tent, but everyone knew the truth about my age—and why I’d had to leave home.”
Of course, no one had knownpreciselywhat her stepfather had done, but the sordid details didn’t matter. The case number was on the court document alongside the phrase “sexual assault on a minor by a person in a position of trust.”
Then Mitch had given her even worse news.
“When you told me we couldn’t have sex until I turned eighteen, I couldn’t believe it. I thought you didn’t want me any longer and were making excuses. You had to explain statutory rape laws and ‘age of consent.’”
God, she’d been naïve, ignorant—a child.
“When I reminded you that I was an emancipated minor and free to make my own decisions, you told me that didn’t change anything, at least not when it came to California’s consent laws.”
Megs had tried to tell him that it didn’t matter, that she wouldn’t report him. But Mitch wouldn’t hear it. “You told me that it didn’t matter if no one found out. If the state deemed it a crime for you to have sex with someone under eighteen, you felt honor-bound to respect that.”
Megs had been so hurt and enraged that she’d crawled out of his tent, broken down her tent, shoved everything into her frame pack, and hiked away from Camp 4, the flashlight in her hand her only source of light.
Mitch had come after her, tried to stop her. She could still hear his voice.
Megs, honey, it’s not safe out there after dark! There are mountain lions!
But something about that night had stolen her sense of safety and the new self-image she’d wrapped around herself like a shield. She’d felt naked, betrayed, and utterly alone. Except that she hadn’t been alone.
“You packed up your gear and followed me. You kept your distance, but you followed me. After I set up my tent, you said my name and stepped out from behind the trees, pack on your back. I was too damned tired to hike any longer. You walked over, took me into your arms, and held me while I lost it.”
It was the first time she’d cried in front of anyone since she was little.
“That’s when I saw your bloody knuckles. You told me you’d punched Gridwall.” Megs raised Mitch’s hand to her lips, kissed those knuckles. “That might be why I fell in love with you. No one had ever stood up for me like that.”
He’d been her hero that night—and every night from then on. What he’d gotten out of their relationship was still a mystery to her.
“You thought I was an adult woman, but I was still a kid. You thought I was hot, but I was just a hot mess. Most guys would have walked away, but you stayed and waited until…”
Megs stopped, studied Mitch. It took a moment for what she was seeing to sink in, and when it did, adrenaline hit her bloodstream in a rush. “Oh, God!”
His eyes were open.
“Mitch? Can you hear me? His eyes are open!” Megs ran out of his room, her gaze seeking Debby, her heart thudding. “Mitch opened his eyes!”
Megs stood in the hallway,hands shaking, while Mitch’s medical team examined him. She fished her phone out of her pocket and texted Rain to let her know that Mitch had opened his eyes.
I don’t know if he’s out of the coma, but I will keep you posted.
Rain replied immediately.
