Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,17
at stake.” The bitter tang of resentment snaps in my tone.
“Hey.” His gruff rasp slices through the silence. “Do you trust me?”
That’s a loaded question. “What choice do I have? You’re all I’ve got.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re obligated to have an ounce of faith in me.” Locks of dirty blond hair are plastered to his forehead from underneath the stocking cap. The disarray is oddly charming.
“Is that important to you?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation from him.
I study him, scouring for any reason to fold. There’s not even a flicker in his unwavering stare. “I trust you, Halder. Probably more than I should.”
“You won’t regret it. I’ll keep you safe, Blakely.”
“Okay.” My voice is so soft it almost gets lost among a whistling gust.
His exhale is thick with the weight of guilt. “I’m familiar with how the men responsible for this operate. They didn’t go through the trouble of bringing us here just so we could find an easy escape route.”
I squint into the distance, recalling something that’s been nagging at me. “How did they get us here? It couldn’t have been a simple task if there are no roads or outlets.” I spin in a slow circle, scanning for tracks. No signs of evidence in any direction.
“I’m assuming by helicopter. Considering their feelings toward me, I wouldn’t be surprised if they just lowered us down and took off.”
“So fucked up,” I mutter. These people must be a pack of ruthless savages.
“Extremely.”
“So, I’m just supposed to lay down and embrace the wilderness?”
“Become one with nature? Doesn’t sound so bad. There’s not much we can do. Staying alive is priority, right?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Glad we agree. I’ll get that fire burning.” He steps around me and crouches onto his knees. With several massive scoops of his gloved hands, a makeshift pit is formed. Halder digs for another moment before standing to inspect his work. The hole looks better than anything I could do.
“Do you need any help?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, this will only take a minute.”
The confidence stretching his chest is contagious and I find myself buying extra shares of optimism. He grabs the ax and strides to a nearby tree. This one isn’t as green or lush as the others. Most of the bottom portion is a pitiful brown shade, lacking needles and visual appeal. That bare patch is where Halder focuses his efforts. Several strikes and chops later, he has a bundle of naked branches.
He begins assembling the sticks into a sturdy tripod formation. Thicker logs form a stable base. Every move he makes is smooth and efficient. His expertise speaks for itself within mere seconds. All I can see is him rubbing pieces of wood together with brisk strokes. The motions of his hands are a blur. I’m about to suggest he slows down when smoke begins rising from seemingly nowhere. The crackle and sizzle of sparks shortly follows. Halder adds more dry kindling and twigs to the mix, which catch quickly. Flames billow and send a fragrant blast of burning wood into the air. The scent reminds me of s’mores and summer camp and spooky tales meant to scare. But this is no ghost story.
I huddle closer to the growing blaze. “There’s no sense denying it. This is very impressive.”
He shoots me a smirk. “That bodes very well for me.”
A thrill zings up my spine when his dimple winks at me. I don’t respond because more words aren’t necessary. The flush of heat stinging my cheeks says plenty.
Survival tip #8: Having the skill is useless without the power of execution.
A twinkling hum of contentment drips off Blakely’s smiling lips. The sound feels out of place in an environment being used to dispose of our existence. Sure, this place is beautiful. No one will dispute that. I’d appreciate the scene a helluva lot more if I wasn’t brought here without my permission.
Her baby blues sparkle against the glow of smoldering flames. Yellow and orange tease across the smooth plains of her tilted face. Damn, she’s gorgeous. My thoughts should be centered on a number of other tasks. I’ve been attacked, drugged, captured, and stranded in uncharted territory. Yet I’m transfixed solely by Blakely. She’s putting her trust in me. That’s a heady dose of accountability to swallow. But I’ll never take what she gives me for granted. It’s my responsibility to return her home safely, by any means necessary.
Watching her relax while absorbing the heat I created twists a foreign piece inside of me. She creates urges I’ve never experienced before.