by Traci Finlay
“Use two,” I beg after a few minutes, and he does. We’re kissing and his lips and fingers are moving with such powerful intensity that I feel myself surrendering to him. And just as I’m about to lose control, he slides his fingers out and sits up.
“Is this okay?”
I’m trembling and gasping, and I can’t tell whether I’m nodding my head or shaking it.
“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do, okay?”
I nod, and I’m mortified because I’m making it so obvious I’m a virgin.
Jack lifts those two fingers to his mouth and sucks on them, then he puts them in my mouth, and I suck on them, too, because I don’t know what else to do. I get nothing out of that, but I see by his reaction that he does, so I suck them harder. He breathes deeply, and his breaths are quivering until he takes his fingers out of my mouth and tells me I need to stop that.
He stands and wanders to the other side of the room, looking out the window. His hands go to his head and he looks angry, and that worries me. I fix my shirt and shorts and tiptoe over to him. “Jack? Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”
He turns to me with such an angry glint in his eye, that I step back. But his lips crash into mine, and he forces me back onto the couch. “Never,” he growls, and he peels down my shorts and gets on his knees, and before I know what’s happening, Jack’s face is between my legs and the thoughts I want to be thinking—we’re gonna be late, someone’s gonna come out and see this, there’s no way I can run when my legs feel like this—disintegrate because I can’t think at all.
We’re super late. Jack turns into Wolverine Dunes State Park after turning a forty-five-minute drive into thirty minutes, serenading me with Jeff Buckley the whole way and making me laugh until I nearly peed my pants.
I thought the drive would be awkward after what happened, but with Jack’s hand holding mine and him belting out it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah in a surprisingly good voice while we flew down the highway at a blistering pace, I secretly wished we were using the whole forty-five minutes just to make this last longer.
“You’ll meet my dad today, since he got to the house too late last night and left too early this morning,” Jack comments as he abides by the ten mph speed limit weaving through the narrow paths in the park. “He’ll be the one bitching me out for being late.”
I tsk at him. “You shouldn’t’ve been so irresponsible this morning.”
He winks at me. “You’re welcome for the multiple irresponsibilities. Also, I plan on being irresponsible with you more often.”
I grin. “I consider myself warned.” He squeezes my hand and I’m blushing, so I turn to gaze out the window at the forest around us. “Where are we? How’s this place a venue for community events?” There’s nothing but trees, and we’ve already driven about a mile into this park. The only reason I’m still convinced it’s a park is the various signs and arrows pointing down different paths. Boating Docks. Picnic Tables. Forest Ranger. Camp Grounds. Jack’s following signs toward Sand Dunes.
We finally break into a clearing, and there are probably a hundred people milling about, banners and tents that read Phantom Fun Run along with food trucks and booths with local businesses selling everything from produce to woodworks to paintings. It’s right next to a beach, the water of Lake Michigan sparkling as arrogantly as if it were an ocean and not a freshwater lake. Hills and sand dunes soar to the north, spotted with patches of forests riddled in ORV trails. The hills drop off in rocky cliffs at the edge of the water with easy two-hundred-foot drops.
“Wow. This is amazing.”
“Yeah, we do these often. They’re pretty cool. Since my dad’s a big sponsor of these corporate events, he’s always involved. He likes when his employees participate, so he’ll be happy to know you’re running in it.”
I jerk my head to him. “Me? Singular? What about you?”
He looks at me cockeyed. “I have to help my dad. I’m management, Charlotte. I don’t get to do the fun things. Nikka’s running, though. She’ll be here soon. Shoot, there’s no place to park.” We’ve weaved through rows of parking spots, and he ends up following an additional parking sign with an arrow pointing north toward the paths leading up the hills. Jack navigates up the path, and I’m squeezing his hand at how steep it is. He finally brakes at the top and turns into a smaller parking lot that overlooks Lake Michigan, and I’d be content to enjoy this view all day.
“C’mon, Charlotte. We gotta go,” Jack says, and I realize I’m admiring this view at the very edge of a cliff. He grabs my hand as we jog down the hill, and I wonder if he’s holding my hand as a safety precaution, or because his face was in my crotch this morning and he feels entitled.
We make it to the bottom, where he releases my hand and starts jogging toward the masses. I follow behind and stop a few feet away when he approaches a middle-aged man wearing a neon-yellow Phantom Fun Run shirt with STAFF written on the back. It’s Jack’s and Nikka’s dad, and he’s scary. I immediately don’t like him. He’s speaking to Jack with such indifference, the opposite of how Jack thought he’d react to his punctuality, or lack thereof. He has that intimidating CEO demeanor, clearly an alpha male, and I’m irritated at how involved he is in charity events when I know what he did to his own kids.
Jack turns in the middle of my judging and canters toward me. His dad calls out, “Go to that red tent and grab a staff shirt, if they have any left,” his tone insinuating his malice toward Jack’s tardiness, and that was that. Jack nods and doesn’t introduce me, and I’m okay with that.
“Come on, we have to get you registered.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks toward the registration tent, and I see a map of three different race courses. “Wait, what are all these? I thought this was just a 5K.”
Jack stops and considers the map. “Most everyone is doing the 5K.” He points to the map in the middle, tracing the paths ribboning throughout the park and circling back to the starting point. Then he points to a much smaller circle. “This one’s for kids. It’s only one mile, I think.” Lastly, he addresses the map that looks like a drawing made by a tormented child in a therapy session. “This one’s the advanced obstacle course. Only elite athletes do this one, people actually train for these.”
I study it and see various symbols placed throughout the seven-mile trail. “What are all these?”
“They’re the different challenges throughout the obstacle course. This one’s a huge wall with ropes that you have to climb to get over it, this one’s a net you have to army-crawl under, and this one’s a mud pit you have to do some monkey bar thing across. It’s pretty insane. You could probably do this, if you want. I just suggested the 5K because that’s what Nikka’s doing, and I figured you’d want to do it with her.”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. My upper body strength is no good for this.”
He grins, and we turn back toward the registration table. “Here, Charlotte. Sign up for the race here. I need to go see if they have any staff shirts.” He abandons me at a table with a couple other staff-shirted people seated across from me, and I lean down to look at the registration papers. I find the list for the 5K and grab a pen.
I begin reading all the fine print, but I can feel people approaching and forming a line behind me, so I start scribbling my name on the list. Whoever’s behind me is breathing on my neck, and I’m about to thrust my elbow back to protect my personal space when I hear a familiar voice.
“Looks like you’re signing up for the wrong one, Little Spider.”
My pen falls to the table. I spin around. This can’t be happening. It’s just six inches of space between Ian and me. And he’s grinning like a sadistic clown.
Before either of us can say anything, I hear Nikka screaming. I jerk my head toward the sound of her voice, and she’s sprinting as fast as she can right toward me. But she shifts at the last second and throws herself at Ian, and I’m so confused and why is Ian here and
where’d Nikka come from and why’s she attacking him?
“Charlotte!” Nikka squeals, and I realize she and Ian are hugging, and I’m nearly hyperventilating because all this is happening so fast and Ian fucking found me and I’m gonna die. “Surprise! Meet my new boyfriend, Dan!”
I’m frozen—sleep paralysis in broad daylight. I stare into my brother’s face and his eyes warn me to play it cool.
“Nice to meet you,” Ian says, extending his hand, but I’m paralyzed in this nightmare. Ice and fire shoot through my veins as I force my hand to connect with Ian’s. He squeezes it so hard, I have to bite my lip to keep from wincing.
“Charlotte, you’re gonna love him! Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I wanted it to be a surprise!” Nikka prattles, oblivious that I’m pissing my pants. I’m shaking my head at her, “Nikka, stop,” but she will not shut up about her new boyfriend. I catch Ian’s eye from behind her, and he’s pointing at Nikka and doing slashing motions across his throat. Yes, Ian, I know—you’ll kill her if I fuck this up. Got it.
“He started working at Oliver’s right after you left, and it was love at first sight, wasn’t it, baby?” Nikka turns her mismatched eyes up to him and snuggles into his chest.
The flames in Ian’s eyes change to hearts so quickly as he turns from me to Nikka, that I wonder if that exchange really happened.
Jack approaches—empty-handed, they ran out of staff shirts—and stops next to me, a little too close. I shift away from him as Nikka introduces him to the love of her fucking life. “Nikka’s told me a lot about you,” Jack says, and I turn to him.
“Why didn’t you tell me Nikka had a boyfriend?” I demand, but it comes out too squeaky to be demanding.
Jack rolls his eyes. “She told me not to. Kept using the word ‘surprise.’ I stopped listening. Did you register?”
I shake my head, and Ian starts in. “She was signing up for the 5K, but I think she should do the advanced obstacle course, don’t you, Jack? I mean, look at her. Look at that body. Long and lean … super athletic. Look at her, Jack.”
Jack’s eyebrows dip as he trades glances between Ian with his inappropriate demands, and me with my allegedly athletic body. “Yeah, she’s got a great body. I told her she could do that one, if she wanted.”
“There are prizes for that one, Charlotte,” Nikka says. “Podium placing, medals, and I think it’s like a hundred dollars cash prize for first. Not many people sign up for that one, not nearly as many as the 5K.”
The three of them look at me and await my response. Ian’s smirking. I zero in on him and give him the most charming smile I can muster. “What did you say your name was again?”
He clears his throat. “Dan.”
I nod dramatically. “Oh, yes. Dan. That’s a lovely name.”
Jack shifts next to me. “So what’s it gonna be, Charlotte?” he says with an edge, and sweet Jesus, he thinks Ian and I are flirting.
“Do the obstacle course with me,” Ian says. “There are only three other people signed up. I think we could whip them. Maybe we can … help each other out.”
Jack’s observing our stare-down, and his misinterpretation is going to make this situation a thousand times worse. I feel his arm going protectively around my waist, and I step away from him toward the registration table, forced to sign up for the obstacle course before Ian can kill Jack.
“So how long have you and Charlotte been dating?” I hear Ian asking Jack as I literally sign my life away on a waiver.
“We’re not!” I squeal.
Jack stays silent, and I know I’m hurting his feelings, but I’d rather his feelings be hurt than his skull, then Nikka starts in. “I think they’d make a great couple,” she remarks as she sips from a water bottle, still glued to Ian’s side. “And you know what? I’m pretty sure they kissed. Neither one of them will talk about it, though. I can just tell.” She winks at me, and I’m pressing my fingers against my glurping jugular. “Also, I heard some pretty interesting noises coming from the living room this morning.” She laughs and Jack tells her to fuck off and I’m going to start crying.
“So when do we start?” I ask before Nikka can continue writing Jack’s epitaph. Here lies Jack Swaring. I’m pretty sure they kissed.
“They’re running behind,” Jack says through gritted teeth. “The kids’ race is supposed to be first, the 5K about fifteen minutes later, then the obstacle course fifteen minutes after that.”
“Jack! Nikka!”
The four of us look up to see their father approaching. “I need you guys to put together swag bags for the kids. We’re severely understaffed. Their race starts in about ten minutes, and this is the most unorganized piece of shit event I’ve ever dealt with.”
“C’mon, guys,” Nikka says to Ian and me, and we follow them to the starting line where huge boxes sit filled with goodies, and I’m so thankful for this mindless task so I can actually get a grasp of what the hell is happening.
I’m pissed at myself. Why didn’t I see this coming? Of course Ian would break Burken protocol and sneak in the back door, manipulating my friends into bringing him my head on a silver platter. Of course he did this. I should’ve figured this out back when he took Nikka’s timecard. I caught on to the fact that Chrissy was dead shortly after, but managed to forget the part where she and Ian dated before that. How could I forget? If the pattern continues, the next step is Nikka’s death. I’ve no idea how to stop this.
I’m stuffing headbands, coupons, and granola bars into bags and handing them to Nikka, whose bright, shiny face offers them to the children. She’s so happy. I hate Ian. He’s destroying her. Why is he doing this? Why can’t he just keep this between him and me? If it were just my life on the line, I’d blow his cover, easy. But now Nikka…
I feel stupid for ever thinking Ian didn’t know where I was. He’s probably been tracking my every move. And if so, Jack’s going to die, too. Ian still has full reign over my life, and this is worse than hell.
I feel Jack’s elbow in my ribs, and I crank my head toward him. “Huh?”
He shoves an empty bag at me, and his face looks like a mangled sock puppet on the end of a fist. “What’s wrong with you?”
I glance past him at Ian, who’s on his other side and staring into my soul. I look down at the bag and swallow back the tears. “Nothing.”
“Okay, we’re done!” Nikka says a little too cheerfully, and she doesn’t even notice that her boyfriend is showing way too much interest in me, and that’s a whore for ya. “I’m heading over to the 5K starting line. Dan, you and Charlotte start over there.” She points at a huge black and white checkered banner over a path that of course, leads into the darkest part of the woods.
She wishes us luck, and Ian says, “Come on, Charlotte. Let’s go. We should probably stretch, don’t you think?”
I actually feel the anger radiating from Jack, who sticks to me like glue as Ian and I head toward the starting line for the obstacle course. I try getting Jack’s attention between Ian’s piercing stares, but Jack refuses to look at me. A lady in a staff shirt and sunhat stands near the starting line. “You three are registered for the obstacle course?”
“Just the two of us,” Ian says, pointing to me.
She holds up a clipboard and examines it. “Names?”
Ian points to a specific line and says, “That’s me. Dan Fisher. And Charlotte Stahl is … right here.”
My eyes widen and my heart pounds because Ian messed up and I’m about to capitalize on it. “Hey, Dan?” I say as Jack asks how many people are signed up for the obstacle course.
“There are three others, but it doesn’t look like any of them have checked in yet,” the lady says, and I wait until Jack’s paying attention again, even if that means leaving Ian looking at me with loving disdain.
“What is it, Charlotte? Did you call me?” Ian says lightly.
“Yeah, that’s funny that you knew my last name. How’d you know my last name was Stahl?”
Ia
n cocks his head and grins, and it’s a little too devilish for me to feel arrogant about catching his slip. “Nikka’s told me a lot about you.”
I feel the grin melting off my face, and Jack’s relentless stare is burning a hole into my essence.
“I know more about you than you think. I can practically see inside your mind.”
Because I see inside your mind…
Ian and I stare each other down. Jack’s visibly pissed. He looks like he wants to hit someone—me, probably—but Ian just said the words that for fifteen years would send me in a dead-on sprint. I have never, ever, in my entire life, not run when Ian uttered those words, yet here I am with my feet planted, meeting his challenging glare.
“Are you kidding me?” Jack says, and one of these two guys is going to kill me today. If not Ian, then Jack. Regardless, today’s the day I die at the hands of an angry man.
My phone rings, and I break eye contact with Ian to fish it from my pocket. It’s Dana, and I silence it.
“Who was that? Your parents?” Ian asks, blinking animatedly, and I get an idea. I hope Jack catches on, because the race is about to start and Ian’s going to murder me in those woods, and this may be my last chance to reveal his identity.
“No,” I announce boldly. “It’s my friend Dana. Or, some might call her Iana, if they were prone to interchanging their Is and Ds.”
Ian licks his lips and stares at me, and I shrug. “I’m just sayin’.”
“What does that even mean?” Jack asks angrily, and I shrug again, bending at the waist to stretch my hamstrings and praying Jack figures that out, but it’s not looking good. My phone dings with a voicemail—only Dana would actually leave a voicemail—but it gives me an idea. I’ll text Jack! Yes! I slip my phone back out of my pocket, my thumbs shaking as I navigate to my messages.
“Hey, Jack,” Ian barks. “You should probably hold Charlotte’s phone for her while she’s running. It’d be pretty unfortunate for her to lose it out there.” He snatches it from me and tosses it to Jack.
I don’t know whether to cry or marvel at his genius.