“My leg is…”
“No, it’s not. The Lost Highway doesn’t work that way. You aren’t really in pain. It’s all in here,” he says, tapping my left temple. “You need to run and keep running until we’re inside. If we’re out here in the dark, I suspect I can’t protect you from the wolves or anything else living in the night. Do you understand?”
Nodding, I take a deep breath and look at where we’re headed. “I’ll follow you. If I can’t keep up, don’t wait for me.”
Quill frowns at my words, and I know he won’t leave me to die. Something awoke in him in the basement, and he fears losing the feeling before understanding what it means.
My only concern is not getting him killed, though.
We run, and I work to remain as closely behind Quill as possible. His large build busts through the overgrown brush, leaving enough space for me to follow. His pace is steady, but I can’t keep up. While I don’t fall too far behind, his distance from me increases.
I focus on him rather than the darkening woods. His long legs pump hard even though he carries at least thirty pounds of supplies on his back. Quill moves like a machine, but I felt his heart beating in the basement and know he’s a man.
Wanting to feel his face again, I run faster. No matter how far ahead he becomes or how much the woods darken, I don’t stop. My tongue still relishes the sweetness of the candy, and my fingers tingle at the feel of his cheeks.
If I make it to the cabin, I plan to kiss him. His kiss in the basement felt clumsy, more hostile than passionate. He didn’t know what to do, but I’ll teach him. Quill never knew kindness. That much is clear based on his rough ways. I’ll show him how to treat me gently and how to pamper himself with small gestures.
When I run now, my leg no longer hurts. I only see Quill’s back in the distance and know I will reach the cabin before the darkness does.
The woods suddenly end, and I’m in the clearing. Quill stands at the foot of the porch steps. He calls my name, and I hear his panic. He knows the darkness is closing in on us, and he also hears the growling. We aren’t alone here, but I won’t allow fear to slow me. I keep running right past him and into the cabin, knowing he’ll follow.
Quill bolts the door closed and glances out the window. Based on his reaction, we barely made it. He closes the shades and turns to me.
“Thank you for the Skittle,” I say, sliding off my jacket. “It helped a lot.”
Quill’s face is a mask of rage and fear. He hates me now. I slow him down and make him care if I am left behind. He doesn’t want to feel anything. Indifference is all he knows, but it’s not what he needs.
Deep inside, Quill is curious about the warmth and care I offer. He isn’t blind to everything he missed in his odd, militaristic upbringing. Until now, he believed nothing he lacked was worth wanting.
I’ve changed everything for him, and now my weaknesses threaten to steal it all away.
Chapter Twenty-One
Quill
After unpacking the supplies, I wait for Odessa to listen to music or eat a piece of fruit. Rather than embrace the sounds and flavors of her old life, she watches me. I narrow my eyes at Odessa, wanting her to take the hint. She only narrows her eyes at me and then smiles.
“Have a peach,” I mutter.
“Will you eat some too?”
“It’s not poisoned.”
“I hope not,” she says, walking to the kitchen.
As her fingers slide over the peach, their movements mesmerize me. I remember the way they moved against my forearm. How they felt teasing my face. I need to stop thinking about her fingers, but they’re all I see until her lips press against the peach’s flesh.
Stepping back, I glare at her. Odessa’s infected me with her limitations. My body doesn’t feel like mine anymore. It craves activities I don’t need or want. I’m unsure how to feed the desires. Odessa would know, but I refuse to ask. If a modest taste of affection turns me into this mess, I can’t chance taking things further.
“Have a bite,” she says, cutting a slice and placing it against my lips.
I eat the peach without tasting its sweetness. I can only think of Odessa in the shower back when she arrived at the cabin. The sight hadn’t affected me then, but now I am very aware of her small breasts under the yellow shirt she wears. I know her nipples are pink and harden in the cold. I recall the slight patch of dark hair covering her pussy.
Why can’t I stop thinking of her naked? I wonder if the Lost Highway is using her to destroy me.
Odessa slowly eats the peach, enjoying each bite. When juice drips down her chin, I ache to reach out and wipe it away. My fingers yearn to touch her.