Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,79

get a furnace going.”

I lick along my bottom lip, drawing the flesh between my teeth. All of our earlier shenanigans are getting to me on a fuck-hot level. I’m more than ready to blow this joint. “Maybe we should call it an early one today.”

“You wanna go back already?”

“Don’t you?” Maybe I shouldn’t assume.

Her hips sway as she steps closer to me. “Always.”

Before we can begin preparing for our retreat, a noise that doesn’t belong to the wilderness keeps our boots rooted in the dirt. The whipping of air being beaten at a rapid pace cracks through the silence. The sound is unmistakable, a revolving track we’ve been begging to hear in our rescue playlist. I whip my gaze skyward and find the source. A helicopter hovers near enough that the sleek shape stands out against the light blue background. The aircraft sticks out as something that doesn’t belong in a place otherwise so natural and serene. Yellow and red paint gleam against the sun. Those bright colors wink at us from an aerial seat far beyond reach.

I immediately find myself wondering about the pilot. With a hand against my brow, I glare at the outline of our potential saviors. What do they see from that vantage point? Can we trust them? Are their intentions honorable? Were they sent to hurt us? Are they kind and forgiving?

A startled yelp drags my attention from above. Moisture gleams in Blakely’s baby blues. “Are they here to save us?”

I swipe at the tear racing down her cheek. My gut in a tangle of knots as our fate hangs in the balance. “I’m hoping we’re about to find out.”

They land several hundred feet from where we’re standing. A metallic clank ricochets across the clearing when the legs touch down. The ground vibrates with their intrusion, but the drumming noise is ready to split my eardrums. I’m sure Blakely and I look ready to bolt from the splintering pain. The blades blur in a wide circle, whipping the tips of any trees close enough to bow. A shrill whistle and spitting thrums slap across the quiet clearing. Hydraulic sputters follow close behind as the engine turns off.

Two people walk toward us. The guy dwarfs the woman striding by his side. They’re wearing matching flannel, fur hats, and if I didn’t know better, I’d assume they’re posing for the cover of an expedition magazine. They appear polished in an artificial way.

Blakely and I watch them approach in silence. Her chest is rising and falling with labored breaths. With a blind hook, I reach for her hand and thread our fingers together. Feeling our connection thrumming in my veins is key if I plan to maintain any semblance of wits.

I’m trying to force my expression to remain neutral. The last thing I need is for our visitors to tuck tail upon first glance. Wouldn’t that be fucking rich? But the possibility of my face being plastered across every news station is highly likely. Bile churns in my stomach at the consequences awaiting me, regardless of how false those alleged accusations are.

“Are you two trying to catch attention or just being reckless?” His speech is heavily accented. French, maybe?

I try to shake off the fear strangling my throat. Blakely is stunned speechless beside me. She just stares at the couple through wide eyes, probably seeing straight through them. I’m sure my features reflect the same level of shock.

“You don’t have to be afraid. We got a report of fires spotted in this area. A cargo flight regularly passes near this part of the country and tracked the disturbance. We’re expedition guides for the riskiest daredevils wishing to travel this far north. These sections are uncharted, though. Did you two get lost?” Her voice has the same thick cling of melody mixed with a smooth jumble. Stilted English or not, their presence is turning out to be a welcome arrival.

Blakely and I exchange a glance. “Something like that,” I mutter.

The man bobs his head in a knowing fashion. “Ah, sure. We’ve seen it before. No problem. My name is Eddie, and this is Wippa.”

She waves at us. “I bet you want to get out of here right away then, eh? Is there somewhere we can take you?”

The options pierce through my mind, rioting with bleak outcomes. No matter what, I’ll be taken away from the woman beside me. Even if it’s only a temporary separation, that loss stabs deep into my chest. I hiss at the ache already spreading.

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