by Lib Starling
“Alexander mentioned something about that.” Again she felt the stab of loss inside her, a cold knife twisting in her gut.
“Maybe it’s better if he does leave.” Darien rubbed his chin in somber thought. “With two natural leaders in Alpha House, something has to give. Either Chase will have to leave, or Alexander must – or the tension between them will boil to a head. And I don’t think I want to be there when it happens.”
It was a wonder Roxy slept at all that night, but utter exhaustion finally carried her off into a mercifully dreamless void. She woke feeling centered, calm and secure, and lay for some time watching the morning sky fill steadily with light.
Both Chase and Alexander had used her and betrayed her trust. The acceptance of that truth settled deep into her bones, and Roxy knew she was strong enough to move on, to put her feelings of bitterness and shame away and continue building a new, better life in Jackson. She had Brooke and Darien to support her. She had the memory of her mother to warm her. And she had that new feeling of strength inside, the unnamed, whispering force that seemed to waken further with each passing the day. She felt it gently stirring inside her chest like a small creature responding to the dawn.
She rose from her bed and pulled her hair back in a ponytail, then made her way to the kitchen. A healthy breakfast first – then she would tackle her day, and her life, head-on.
She heard sleepy, shuffling footsteps on the linoleum as she was cooking her oatmeal. “Hey,” she said, expecting to see Brooke standing in the kitchen’s wide entryway. But when she looked up, it was Scarlett who stood there, dressed in the skimpy jogging shorts and tank top she used as pajamas, shifting her slight weight from one foot to the other.
The smile slid off Roxy’s face.
“Hey, Rox,” Scarlett said.
She didn’t respond, but went on stirring her oatmeal.
“Listen… I guess we need to talk.”
“I guess we do.”
“I didn’t know there was anything serious between you and Chase.”
Roxy lifted her eyebrows in dry disbelief.
“When he came on to me at the party, I guess I thought the two of you had split up.”
“Well,” Roxy said, shrugging as if it didn’t matter, “we weren’t really going out in the first place.”
So he had come on to Scarlett. Roxy had hoped it’d been the other way around, at the very least. She bit the inside of her cheek, praying her disappointment didn’t show on her face. She might have awakened with a new resolve to forge ahead and make her own life, free from the influence of these slimy frat boys, but it wasn’t exactly realistic to expect herself to stop hurting overnight.
“Oh, good,” Scarlett said, rummaging in the refrigerator for her carton of orange juice. “Because I’d hate to think I’d done something to hurt you.”
“Why should I be hurt?”
“I know, right? Guys – they’re so not worth it.”
Roxy glanced at Scarlett as she drank straight from the carton. With her head thrown back, her slender white throat was exposed, and Roxy blinked at the ugly purple mark she saw there. It was larger than an average hicky – more like a bite.
“What the hell happened to your neck?” she said in alarm.
Scarlett gave a coy giggle. “Oh, this? Alexander.”
Roxy couldn’t have named the sensation that flooded her if she’d had all the dictionaries in the world at her fingertips. A cold prickle raced along every inch of her skin, and the floor seemed to sway and drop beneath her. Far worse than the sickly feeling was the fact that Roxy couldn’t identify its origin. Did Alexander’s name bring back a memory of the way he had treated her? Or did she feel so shaken and ill because Scarlett had slept with him last night, so soon after he’d been out with Roxy?
First she took Chase from me, and now she screws my date on the same night he went out with me?
Granted, Roxy had no warm feelings for Alexander now – but that wasn’t the point. Moving in on a friend’s date on the very same night was just plain vindictive. Roxy clenched her teeth, resisting the urge to step warily away from Scarlett.
“That boy sure plays rough,” Scarlett said, returning her orange juice to the fridge with a dreamy look that said she didn’t mind Alexander’s coarse handling one bit.
Alone in her bedroom, Roxy choked down as much of her oatmeal as she could. It was flavorless to her in spite of the cinnamon and raisins she’d sprinkled on top. All she could think of was Scarlett, smugly smiling with the mark of Alexander’s fierce passion on her neck.
She had to clear her head, had to shake off these feelings of betrayal and rage before they consumed her and made her life in Jackson Hole a constant misery. The trails called to her – the trails and the wild heights of the mountains.
But should she hike alone again? She remembered the dark, wolf-like shadow slipping through the trees, and she hesitated. But at the thought of its low-slinking form, the curled creature inside her stirred. The wilderness seemed to call a challenge to Roxy, and the power inside her wanted to respond. She felt instinctively that she couldn’t rest, couldn’t be free of her turmoil until she’d met that challenge, faced the unknown mysteries of the trail, and proven to herself that she was stronger than her fears, stronger than her own anger.
But this time, she’d take a few precautions.
She tore a page of paper from her notebook and wrote the name of the trailhead where she’d leave her Jeep, and what time she expected to return. Then she gathered her meager gear, slipped the note under Brooke’s bedroom door, and left the house without saying good-bye to Scarlett.
.8.
T he hike did little to clear Roxy’s mind. She trudged up the trail with gritted teeth, ignorant of the beauty around her. Her mind was wracked by grim images of Scarlett, first in Chase’s arms – and his bed – then in Alexander’s.
It infuriated her, that she should feel hurt over Alexander. He’d proven himself to be a predator, and she certainly wanted nothing of him now. But the fact that Scarlett would go after both men Roxy had been interested in, and one just hours after Roxy had spent time with him… The strange tense presence inside her bunched like a fist. It sat beneath her heart, heavy and hard like a stone in her shoe, impossible to ignore.
Far worse than the anger over Alexander, of course, was the pain of knowing Chase had only used her. Despite her own admonishments to be sensible, she had felt herself falling in love with Chase – the very thing Brooke had warned her about.
Idiot, Roxy scolded herself, even as she ached to feel Chase’s arms around her again. The force within her seemed to flinch in pain.
The day grew hot as Roxy hiked, exploring the trails with an energetic stride that was at odds with her dull, listless thoughts. Her conflicting emotions fueled the fire of her steps, bouncing her restlessly from one scenic overlook to the next. But the broad, sweeping vistas of the Tetons made no impression on her as she stood gazing out over valleys and ravines. All she could see was Chase’s smile, or his face in profile as he watched the great, rippling expanse of the elk herd, his black eyes shadowed and his jawline darkened by rough stubble.
When the sun was high, she found a natural bench on a high lake shore, a fallen log that was just the right height for sitting. She pulled her lunch from her pack and ate methodically, not tasting a bite of her sandwich. The sun was a white dazzle on the lake’s surface, and Roxy stared at it, unmoved. When she had finished her lunch, she felt no desire to move from her seat, so she remained complacently, watching the lake shimmer and dance, the flights of insects dodging over its surface. She was content in her stillness – as content as she could ever feel with this awful ache inside her, with the stark, black emptiness where Chase had once been.
I should move out, she thought. Go somewhere else, leave Scarlett far behind. There was no point, she reasoned, in trying to live under the same roof with such a treacherous creature as Scarlett. Proximity to Scarlett would only drive her crazy.
/> But then Roxy clenched her fists and firmed her jaw. Why should she be the one to leave? She hadn’t done anything wrong. It was Scarlett who should feel ashamed, Scarlett who should slink off with her tail between her legs. When she returned from her hike, Roxy would talk to Brooke about…
The hollow thud of footsteps on the trail behind her interrupted Roxy’s furious thoughts. She turned her head, expecting to see a pair of unfamiliar hikers make their way past, seeking higher altitudes and better views. The hikers were two young men, and after one brief, blank moment, Roxy recognized them with a jolt.
The curly brown hair and mocking smile of Jared, the leader of Sigma Zeta, was unmistakable. She would never forget his overbearing presence, the way he had stood over her as she and Darien sat on the bench in the town square. The other, a dark blonde man, had been one of Jared’s companions that day. Now they paused, looking down at her where she huddled in miserable seclusion on her fallen log. Jared gave an unpleasant snicker, and Roxy, remembering Alexander’s force the night before, couldn’t suppress a shiver.
“Look who it is,” Jared said.
Roxy gathered up her pack, slung it on her shoulder, and headed up the trail toward them. “Hi, Jared,” she said flatly, betraying nothing of the fear she felt.
Jared and his friend smirked at her.
“Long way from home,” he said.
“So are you,” Roxy snapped. She pushed past them and began walking downhill toward the trail head – which was at least two miles away. She counseled herself not to run, recalling the wild panic she had experienced the last time she’d hiked alone.
“How was your date with Alexander?” Jared called after her.
Roxy froze. Part of her – a very real, fragile part – wanted to quail in fear at the mention of Alexander’s name. Another part, which was connected, she sensed, to that tight-coiled, newfound force inside her, wanted to rage, to attack, to tear both Jared and Alexander with her teeth and claws. She shook her head – claws? – and spun to face Jared.
He drew back a little at the naked fury on her face.
“Alexander,” Roxy spat, “can go fuck himself. When he’s not too busy fucking Scarlett.”
“So… not good, I take it.”
“It’s none of your goddamn business, anyway.” She half-turned to go, but then stopped, looking sharply at Jared and his friend. “How did you know I had a date with Alexander?”
“It was the talk of Blackmeade.” Jared took a step toward Roxy, his friend grinning and shifting on the trail behind him. “You’re the talk of Blackmeade, Roxy. You must know that.”
Again the fragile side of her wanted to be afraid, wanted to back away from Jared’s advance, or flee down the trail as fast as her feet would carry her. But that other side won out, and she stepped toward her antagonist, baring her teeth in an expression that was half grin, half snarl.
“Well, Blackmeade can talk about this,” she said. “I don’t want anything to do with any of you frat boys. That includes Alexander, that includes Chase, and that definitely includes you. Stay out of my life.”
A surge of victory, of unquestionable rightness filled Roxy’s chest. It felt so good, and the pleasure of her confidence startled her so completely, that she had to bite the inside of her cheek to fight off a smile. One ill-timed grin would have ruined her stern countenance and given Jared and his friend more ammunition to harass her.
That’s right, she told herself, green eyes burning at Jared and his hanger-on. I’m never going near a frat boy again. I’m done with all of them. From this moment on, they are out of my life.
She spun on her heel and stalked down the trail, fuming. Through her anger she remained wary, listening for Jared’s footsteps behind her, ready to whirl and defend herself if need be. But she heard nothing, and after she’d gone several yards, Roxy dared to glance over her shoulder. Save for a few birds that flitted between the pine trees, the trail was empty. Jared and his friend had taken her at her word and hiked on. Roxy was left in peace.
Her confidence returned the farther she went from Jared, and the deeper her resolve grew to avoid fraternities altogether. Rather than heading back to her Jeep, she explored more side trails, this time opening her eyes to the autumnal beauty of the mountains. White-trunked aspens shook their mantels of bright leaves in the light wind, and the clouds had just begun to pick up the rosy-warm tint of afternoon. A brook chattered along the edge of a meadow. She dipped her hands in its icy water and splashed her face, smiling at the refreshing chill.
She had covered several miles of trail, wandering from one viewpoint to another, drinking in the landscape with a serenity she hadn’t thought to find in the midst of her anger and hurt. Roxy had always loved nature, but never before had the wilderness filled her with such a feeling of rightness. The valleys that lay open before her like books waiting to be read, the pathways of long grasses and the secret spaces between the trunks of trees, at once soothed and excited her. Her soul warmed with a sensation that all would be well, even as it quivered with a newfound thirst for adventure. And the quiet force within her yearned for the wild, open spaces, so that several times Roxy found herself nearly walking off the trail, out into the wilderness.
The afternoon slipped away. Roxy took her map from her pack and verified her location as the sun sank toward the western horizon. She was a mile and a half from the Jeep – it was time to start heading home. Knowing she must say good-bye to the peace she’d found in the mountains, and that she must confront the issue of Scarlett’s vindictive meddling when she got home, Roxy sighed. It had been a perfect day after all, and she wasn’t ready for it to come to an end.
As she dragged herself away from the siren call of an alpine meadow, painted by the broad and varied brush of autumn colors, Roxy heard a rustling in the brush alongside the trail. She paused, expecting to see some small creature scamper across the path – the rustling had been so slight.
But when the brush parted and a large, blocky canine snout protruded, Roxy gasped. Her body chilled and stiffened.
The snout pushed through the brush, followed by a round head the size of a large pumpkin. For one panicked moment Roxy was sure it was a wolf. Then she noted the slight jowliness, the downward point of the ears, and the loose skin around its neck.
It was a dog – a huge dog, larger than any Roxy had seen before. She was no expert on breeds, but she thought it might be a mastiff, or a mix of mastiff and something else. She watched it warily, never daring to move as it stepped onto the trail and sniffed the air with a deliberate movement of its head. Its body was muscular, the shoulders heavy and the loins thick and arched. The dog stared at her, and Roxy’s heart began to pound. Was it friendly? She couldn’t detect anything dangerous in its stance, and it wasn’t growling or showing its teeth. But still, Roxy hesitated.
There was another rustle, and a second dog emerged from the brush, cringing a little behind the mastiff, licking its lips in an eager but skittish way. Roxy eyed them both, clutching the straps of her pack. She would have spoken to them, tried to win them over with her voice – but her throat had gone dry.
As she glanced from one dog to the other, she caught the mastiff’s small, dark eye. It held her gaze, and there was something almost human in its look – something… That’s insane, she told herself, but she couldn’t deny it… something mocking. The look reminded her of Jared’s cocky arrogance, his bold talk and his over-confident swagger.
And as she thought of Jared, her eyes widened. The mastiff licked its chops slowly, as if savoring her fear.
Roxy edged backward, not daring to take her eyes from the dogs. The mastiff moved toward her, its companion whining low in its throat as it followed.
“Shoo,” Roxy said, waving her hands. “Go away.”
If it had been able, the mastiff would have laughed. She could clearly see a spark of amusement in its small black eyes.
You’re being irrational, Roxy told herself. She turned and began walking briskly, sure of the
trail that would lead her back to her Jeep. This was not like the last time – not like the time that deep gray shadow had slunk through the forest while she ran. She knew where the dogs were – and they were just dogs, after all. True, unfamiliar dogs could be dangerous, but only if you got too close. Or allowed them to get too close to you.
She looked back, hoping the dogs had stayed put. The mastiff, however, was closing on her at a shambling trot, its smaller companion trailing not far behind.
Roxy picked up her pace. Not running – she would not run. She only wanted to maintain the distance between herself and the dogs.
The sun set, and red light slashed through the trees, covering the trail with a patchwork of crimson light and blue shadow. Roxy looked back again – the mastiff was still there, following at the same distance, pursuing her with lazy interest.
“Go home!” Roxy shouted. Already weary from her long day of hiking, her legs were tiring fast under the strain of keeping the dog at a safe distance. She began to pant, and soon her shirt was damp beneath the arms. She still had at least a mile to go, but the strain was making her light-headed. She stumbled over a rock and cursed, catching herself against a tree, and looked back toward the dogs.
The mastiff gave an enormous yawn, showing the pink inside of its mouth, its curling tongue, and long, white teeth. The yawn was laden with amusement, and when its huge mouth closed it shook its head and loped toward her.
Jared, something wild and frantic cried inside her head. She recalled Alexander’s attack with horror, and then suddenly wished Alexander were here – wished anybody were here with her, who might help defend her against the dog.