You know those moments of instant regret, like when you cut your own bangs or you drop your phone? This decision goes right to the top of that list.
My hands are covered with a multitude of scratches and grazes—a right of passage in these craggly mountain halls—and the stinging that ensues is excruciating. I kick Marigold out of the way, maneuvering the door open with my elbows while breathing through the fire engulfing my hands.
My promise to stay put is the furthest thing from my mind as I rush to the water fill station, panting like a woman in labor.
Sue’s husband, whose name has eluded me at the moment, walks toward the station with his empty bottle, but I need to rinse the alcohol off my skin immediately, so I run withhands in the air as if they are in fact covered by that contagious rash. My feet pick up speed, but so do Hawaiian-shirt hubby’s, and I suddenly find myself in a silent race to beat him to the water tap.
I make it there a mere second before him, and I try to ignore the fact that he actually sped up when he saw me rushing toward the water source.
Hello, is the panic not very clear on my face?
Nobody warned me about this part of roughing it. I hiss at the pain and drop to my knees in front of the tap. People are staring, but I ignore them and finally find relief once I rinse away all the stupid hand sanitizer. And I don’t even care that I look like a rabies victim. I let out a short chuckle, grateful that despite doing something so thoughtless, I’ve learned a small lesson. I’ll never makethatmistake again.
I exhale and rise to my feet, stepping aside to allow a slightly disgruntled-looking Frank to use the faucet.Someone’sa little bitter, I think and shake my hands out, inspecting the multiple inflamed red cuts and scrapes as I head back to the restroom.
“No bodyguard this time?”
I yelp when I look up to find Brandon leaning against one side of the building.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
A frown cuts across my face, and I pivot to make my way back toward the more crowded area. But Brandon circles me, cutting me off.
“I thought it’d be impossible to get you alone with the way he hovers around. Looks like I’ve hit some good luck.” Brandon moves closer with every step I take in retreat until I’m pushed up against the dusty restroom wall. He towers over me as my pulse throbs heavily.
“Nothing to say?” He sneers with a cruel twist of his lips.
Why does this keep happening? Can’t a girl hike in peace?Isn’t it enough to get bullied by the elements without being harassed by overly confident men?
I’ve had D-bag dates get a little too handsy before, but I’m so out of my comfort zone that every sassy response I’d normally use to put a man like this in his place has been wrung from my body along with the sweat. I squeeze my eyes shut, telling myself everything is okay. My hands sting as they splay against the dry, splinter-etched wood behind me.
Groin, eyes, throat.
My head throbs as I swallow, preparing to enact the first step in the self-defense moves that have been drilled into me since a young age. Brandon snickers, raising a hand to grip my chin in a pinching hold. My eyes bug wide with a mixture of panic and revulsion at his touch.
“This could have been a lot easier, you know,” he says through clenched teeth, pushing me harder against the wall.
My brain is still busy calculating the space required to knee him in the balls when he’s ripped away from me, leaving me to flinch. Before I can even cry out in shock, Jack has Brandon shoved up against the wall, and I dart away, breathing heavily and hating the way I felt so out of control.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jack yells in Brandon’s face, pulling him up by his overpriced, purposefully distressed collar. A cold laugh crinkles the corners of Brandon’s mouth as his eyes flick toward me.
“Just getting to know each other.”
Jack is a tower of controlled fury, every muscle tight as he shoves Brandon into the wall again before releasing him. His nostrils flare as he looks down at Brandon, watching him attempt to straighten his stretched-out collar and morph back into his sleazy façade. Then Brandon’s top-of-the-line hiking boots crunch down the hill as Jack warns him to stay away from me.
“You okay?” Jack grates out when he gets near, allowing me to melt into his arms.
“I am now.” I breathe him in, nuzzling into his chest as he brings his arms around me. “I don’t know what happened…I just froze.” I lift my head, frowning as I meet his pinched gaze. “Something about being in this place, the heat, the lack of heels as a weapon…I forgot all my instincts. The one time when Ineededto run, I couldn’t. I think I’m broken.”
“You’re not broken, Lo. You shouldn’t have to be prepared for an encounter like that in a place like this. Brandon is an asshole.” He pulls off my hat, smoothing my hair, and the way his big hand cups my face makes me want to assume full koala mode and cling to him forever. “You’re very brave,” he adds in a softer tone.
“I’m sweaty.” I pout, not knowing what to do with that word he’s attached to me.
“You’re also not where I left you.” He lifts my hands, inspecting the multitude of tiny cuts.
“And there’s a very reasonable explanation for that,” I say quickly in my defense.
“Where’s your backpack?”
