Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Vienna shivering, her teeth knocking together from the trembling.
“Vienna?” I called.
“Y-yeah?” she answered, voice vibrating.
Fuck.
“Cold?” I asked.
“I don’t know why,” she admitted. Since, yeah, she’d been living in a shed without heat or even a blanket to keep her warm.
Maybe it was from the eating and drinking and exhausting her body.
I have a bit of a fatigue fever my grandmother used to say after a long day working in her garden when she would be curled up under three blankets and still shivering.
“I… I could warm you,” I told her, wincing at how that sounded, how she might take that. “Even if I don’t go under the blanket with you,” I added, wanting to give her as much protection as she might want.
“Okay,” she agreed, sounding weak.
“You can tell me to get away at any point,” I told her, kicking out of my shoes as I stood at the side of the bed.
“Okay,” she agreed again as she wiggled over toward the wall, leaving space for me to climb in behind her.
I did, inch by inch, careful not to actually touch her.
“You don’t have to get too close,” she said. “I know I’m filthy.”
“That’s the fucking last worry on my mind,” I assured her, scooting closer just to prove my point. When she didn’t stiffen up, I let my legs tuck against hers, but kept my pelvis away, then curled my upper body closer as well. “This should help,” I told her.
Eventually, though, she’d needed to let me under the blanket as well.
But almost as soon as she did, the shivers stopped, and she drifted off to sleep.
As I lay awake trying not to let myself think the one fucking thing I had no business thinking right then.
That something about this felt nice. Felt right.
What the fuck was wrong with me?
CHAPTER FOUR
Vienna
I woke up warmer than I’d felt in weeks, and for just a moment, I thought I was home in my bed, my covers cocooned around me, safe, happy.
It wasn’t until I felt the body behind me that I remembered I hadn’t been home, safe, or happy in a really, really long time.
My body jolted before I recalled that I wasn’t in the shed anymore, the moment making Riff jerk away from me, actually rolling off the bed and onto the floor to get away from me.
“It’s okay. You’re alright. I’ll back off,” he said, sounding borderline frantic at my reaction.
“No. Sorry. I… forgot,” I admitted, pressing a hand to my jackhammering heart as I sat up.
Sunbeams streaked in through the grimy window, painting the dark walls in streaks of brightness.
“Everything’s alright,” Riff said, moving to stand but putting more space between us. “But we should get going soon,” he added, glancing out the window. “How are you feeling?”
“Honestly? Achy. But I will walk,” I said, lifting my chin with a grim sort of determination.
Because I would.
I would walk as my bones groaned. As my feet blistered. As my muscles screamed.
If it meant I could finally get away.
Get safe.
Clean.
Fed.
Though my stomach did feel stretched already just from the honey and the soup from the night before. The promise of more of that later today was probably what forced my weary bones to climb out of the bed.
“We are good and truly roughing it here, darlin’,” he said, giving me an apologetic smile. “Meaning we will take turns heading outside to deal with… personal matters. I’ll find you some safe leaves, so you don’t accidentally get poison ivy in unmentionable areas,” he added, making a surprised huff of laughter escape me, the sound foreign to my own ears.
“Okay,” I agreed.
Sure, I was a pretty girly-girl. Meaning I hadn’t ever needed to do my aforementioned ‘personal matters’ in the woods. But like Riff had said the night before, this is about survival. I had to set aside all my preprogrammed icks and pride and just… make do.
“Here, hydrate a little,” he said, bringing me a cup. “And maybe some honey. The sugar will give your body something to burn so you don’t use up what little you’ve got on your bones,” he said before making his way out of the cabin.
He was gone for a bit, and a little irrational twinge of fear started to build, worried he might have decided to cut his losses and leave me behind.
But then he was coming back in, using his shirt like a little bag, and dropping a small pile of blackberries onto the bed.
“That’s all the bush had to offer. Looks like the critters got to it. But I’ll take anything I can get for you right now,” he said. “Eat,” he demanded when I hesitated.
I reached for the pile, trying to separate them into two equal sections.
“No,” he said, pushing them all back into one pile. “Eat all of them.”
Knowing he was going to argue about it, I went ahead and shoved them into my mouth, finding them overly mushy from being nearly rotted on the bush, but, hey, it was food. I wasn’t complaining.