Fable of Happiness (Fable 1) - Page 81

What would Josh say?

What would my online fans think if I shared this crazy part of my life?

They’d tell you to run.

As we trudged back to the valley, my mind raced.

He gave me too many hours of silence.

Too many moments to go over every interaction, every mistake, every triumph.

The things I’d done with him, the domination over my body, the softening of my heart, it all began to darken. A patina of mortification coated everything, leaving my mouth sour and mind full of scorn.

What was I thinking?

Had I honestly, willingly kissed him?

Had I truly come so hard, stars literally exploded behind my eyelids?

Stupid, stupid girl.

Whatever physical reaction I’d had to him would never negate the truth of the situation.

I’m his prisoner.

And I have an obligation to fight.

I couldn’t permit someone—a man who fully expected me to keep my legs open and mouth closed for however long we lived together—to have such power over me.

It just wasn’t doable. Not possible.

Regardless of the scant few moments of friendship. Regardless of the fire that burned whenever we touched. Thanks to our insidious connection, every moment in his company threatened to undermine my entire self-worth all because it made me want to protect what was left of his.

No.

I’d always been a caring person. I doted on my brother. I loved my mother even when she didn’t particularly love me. I spoke to my dead father at the top of every boulder I scaled. And I’d be damned if I let that caring part of me be used as my bondage.

This man—whoever the hell he is—was in pain. I knew that. I wanted to help with that. It made me far more giving and kind than I would’ve been if he’d just been a bastard.

But.

And this was a big but.

I was in pain too.

I was being denied the chance to go home. To speak to my family. To tend to my career. He’d taken my future, and I couldn’t allow that to go unpunished.

And so, I used our silent time wisely.

My wrists worked the rope. My fingers fumbled with the knot. My feet walked on autopilot as I dedicated my entire attention to being free.

That was the thing about climbers.

We knew rope, and we knew knots.

Unless a fellow climber had kidnapped and tied me up, I would find a way to loosen it. It was just a matter of time.

Time he’d given me.

Time that allowed space between us and for the erotic pleasure of last night to fade. Just because we were good in bed together didn’t mean a damn thing. It didn’t mean we were destined or betrothed. It just meant I’d let this go too far, and it was time I put a stop to it.

Thread by thread, the rope gave up its tightness. The knots loosened, the leash no longer binding me as his.

Occasionally, he’d throw me some water or one of my stolen chocolate bars, and I’d keep my wrists locked together, hoping he didn’t have the foresight to check the knots were still tight.

He never did.

Either he believed in his own skills at trapping someone, or he’d forgotten my profession. Either way, it was his undoing.

Hours trickled into one chunk of time.

The sun walked from one side of the sky to the other. The path I’d taken once out of sheer dumb stubbornness and curiosity was now trudged with impatience and plotting.

The moment I’d dealt with him, I’d demand the backpack full of food, and backtrack to my Jeep. I wouldn’t bother wasting time trying to find my keys. They were most likely covered in a foot of mud by now, but I would pack the rest of my clothes and blankets and begin the long trek back to the populated area of the national park.

It would take a full day, possibly two, by my estimate. I would be hungry and thirsty by the time I ventured out of the forest like some dirty heathen. But the moment I was in the company of park rangers, I could ask for food, transport, and a phone to ring my very worried mother and brother.

The rest of the journey back to the valley was occupied by going over my plan. Trying to see loopholes or dead ends. There was a faint possibility I could get turned around and completely lost. I might die of dehydration or be attacked by something bigger than me.

But then again, I had a second compass back in my Jeep. I knew how to follow the sun and stars. I had a better than good chance at being found before it was too late.

Squaring my shoulders, I prepared to put my plan into action. The closer we got to the valley and his home, the more my heart raced.

Okay, go over it one more time.

When we reach the drop-off, tackle him and wrap the rope around his hands.

Tags: Pepper Winters Fable Erotic
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