by Juniper Hart
“What do you mean you’re not packed?” Jax had screamed at her on Thursday night. “We’re leaving after work tomorrow!”
That was how Annabelle had discovered she was also invited. Hastily, she had thrown some clothing into a duffle bag, trying to ignore Jax’s critical scowl and forced a smile.
She fought through rounds of, “Oh, you’re still wearing that?” and “Seriously, Annabelle? This is a camping trip, not the Bunny Ranch. Don’t you have something more appropriate?” Finally, she had a complete travel bag packed and ready for transport.
“See? Finished! No harm done.” She smiled at him.
“No harm except you leave everything to the goddamn last minute. Would it kill you to plan in advance for once in your life, Annabelle? You’re going to be a shitty mother. I hope to God we make enough money to hire a nanny, or our kids will be screwed.”
In reality, Jax was the one who was perpetually late and unprepared for almost everything. Annabelle was in a constant state of rushing to compensate for his lackadaisical approach to life. Of course, Annabelle was far too seasoned in this style of conversation to utter any such words contradicting his accusation, and instead swallowed the sour lump in her throat, bearing his soul-crushing words with her usual quiet dignity.
Inside the Chevy, the windows were fogging up from the mix of condensation and sadness. Annabelle wiped the thick towel against the glass, trying to peer beyond the raindrops, but she could not see anything. She glanced at her cell phone for the time and realized that Jax had been gone for well over an hour. A fusion of alarm and guilt sounded through her as she wondered if something terrible had happened to him in his search for help. What if he got lost? What if an animal got to him? What if he’s laying in a ditch hurt? Or dead? More shame flooded over her as she recognized she was smiling slightly at the thought.
She uselessly tried to dial out once more on her cell phone, but no signal was available. Sighing heavily, she knew that she should go after him and ensure that he was safe, if only to ease her nagging conscious.
Throwing open the door, she jumped out of the car before she could change her mind and sloshed through the deep mud puddles, completely desensitized to the rain now. She was so cold; her extremities had gone numb, water shamelessly seeping into her thin running shoes and her socks, adding to the sogginess of it all. Without turning, she continued down the path where Jax had vanished.
The rain showed no sign of letting up, and the wind had also picked up, forcing the clouds through the angry sky in a kaleidoscope of gray and black puffs. Tenaciously, the huge moon bared its face as a gust of wind plowed through the heavens, herding the storm along. If the circumstances had not been so wretched, Annabelle would have relished the untouched beauty of her surroundings. The wetness created a halo about the flora, and even in the nighttime, its glory was astounding. The tantalizing scent of fresh rain and pine trees tickled her nose, but she was too distracted to notice.
Annabelle used her pen flashlight to guide her way through the maze of roots protruding from the dirt roadway. As she struggled to follow the almost useless smidgen of light, she was suddenly regretting her impulsive decision to chase after her fiancé. An unwarranted panic closed in on her, and she paused, weighing her options. Going back to the car was tempting, but how much further could the main road possibly be?
As she stood thinking, a slow chill began creeping its way down her neck and through her back. It was a strange, undefinable feeling, but undeniably, she felt as if she was being watched. Stopped in her tracks, Annabelle flashed the minuscule beam of the flashlight around the bushes. Her heart thudding recklessly, she tried to steady her nerves with deep breaths. She made one last sweep of the horizon and froze. In the weak ray of light, mere feet from her dripping shape, two unearthly green eyes steadily stared at her.
It was an image that regularly haunted her, in her dreams and sometimes in reality. A pair of green eyes seemed to frequently lurk in the shadows, watching her and waiting for something. She had tried to tell Jax one time, but he brushed her off, complaining that she was crazy.
It’s just the rain; it’s just the rain. It’s just a mirage from the rain, Annabelle told herself over and over in her head. But it was not an illusion. The creature continued to hold her gaze, emitting a low growl from the depth of its diaphragm, a sound that caused a million goosebumps to explode along Annabelle’s tanned arms. It was the first time she had ever heard a noise from the mysterious creature. Her perfect pink lips opened to let out a scream as the animal lunged. At first, Annabelle’s mind couldn’t figure out what was happening between the dark, her fear, and an unexpected flash of light, all confusing her sense of reality.
The creature sped past her, a whoosh of energy so stealth-like, it was gone well before the headlights fully focused on Annabelle’s trembling shape in the road.
“Anna? What are you doing out here?” Jax jumped out of the tow truck and hurried toward her, removing his jacket as he approached.
He wrapped her frame lovingly and rubbed her shoulders, ushering her toward the vehicle. She allowed him to lead her to safety, but her purple eyes were watching the treeline for the beast she had just encountered. It was just a mountain lion, she lied to herself. She knew a mountain lion would never cause her to feel such an intense electricity as it brushed past and vanished without a trace.
Chapter Two
“Holy shit, you guys! It’s almost midnight! What took you so long?” Julian ran up to the Chevy as Jax parked, grinning at the couple expectantly.
The rest of the group had already arrived, and the party was in full swing around the camp fire. The hard rain had finally decided to take a break, therefore allowing them to commence the rowdy weekend festivities. Bryden had picked up his guitar and was playing a soulful tune as Alex and Brock were playing some nonsensical drinking game at the picnic table. Annabelle felt the apprehension of the evening beginning to slowly dissipate as she took in the scene.
“We ran out of gas,” Jax replied sheepishly, shooting Annabelle a grin.
Timidly, she smiled back, relieved that the berating had come to a halt now that there were witnesses in their midst. Ever since the tow truck driver had left the two, filling the Chevy with must needed fuel, Jax had not stopped yelling. There were moments when Annabelle was sure they would crash into a tree, and for fleeting seconds, she wished they would. Anything would be better than listening to the endless venom spewing from her fiancé’s mouth. But as usual, the key to keeping Jax calm and cool was always to remain in the presence of others. Somehow, the moment any other person appeared in their midst, Jax became the same charming, boyish sweetheart whom everyone adored, the man with whom she had fallen in love.
Annabelle believed that even if she had mustered up the courage to tell anyone about how Jax treated her when they were alone, no one would believe her. He was always so charismatic, so mild mannered.
“Oh, that sucks. Well, hurry up and get out here before the boys drink all the beer. We’ve been here for hours,” Julian told the couple, reaching into the backseat for their belongings.
Annabelle hurried to assist him with unloading, anxious to be out of the suffocating confines of the car and away from her fiancé. When she turned back to the site, she suddenly realized that she was the only female.
“Hey!” she called in protest. “Where is everyone else?”
“Like who?” Julian asked.
“Like the women!”
There was a collective laugh at her question, and Brock shrugged.
“You were the only one brave enough to come,” he answered, smiling toothily. His mouth was a gnarled mess of crooked teeth, but somehow it made his innocent face all that much more endearing.
“All the other girls bailed?” Annabelle asked disbelievingly. She looked at Jax accusingly. Why wouldn’t he have told her that before?
“No girls were invited,” Alex growled, irritated.
Brock punched him, shooting him a warning glare
to silence him.
“Except you,” Brock piped up smoothly. “We consider you one of the boys; you know that. Come on, Anna. We’re going to play beer pong.”
A sinking feeling overwhelmed Annabelle as she suddenly understood the reality. Jax had invited her along on a boys’ weekend despite their objections. He hadn’t wanted to let her out of his sight. Slowly, she followed Brock to the picnic table where Alex sat scowling at her. As she sat, she found herself looking longingly out into the trees, half-hoping to see bright emerald orbs looking back at her.
After Jax set up their small tent, he strategically placed himself between Annabelle and Brock at the table. Annabelle felt tense as she understood the gesture to be one of dominance. She knew that she was going to get an earful later about how close she had been sitting to his friend. She couldn’t win. If she had declined Brock’s invitation, Jax would have given her grief about being rude to his friends. Annabelle didn’t know when in her life she began walking on eggshells constantly. Once upon a time, she had been a bouncy, cheerful young woman. She was now a dull shadow of her former self, aged well beyond her twenty-five years.
“Go fish!” Brock yelled, startling her out of her sadness. Obligingly, Jax picked up a card and laughed. He slapped down two aces on the table and pointed at the plastic shot glass on the table.
“Drink!”
Bryden was still strumming away at the guitar, but his songs had taken on a lighter, joking tone as he drunkenly sang some purposely off-key Irish folk songs. Even thought the mood was light, Annabelle couldn’t help but feel some strange undercurrent among them. Perhaps it was Alex’s glowering, particularly in her and Jax’s direction. Possibly it was Jax himself souring any potential for happiness, as usual, with his covert smirks, which escaped everyone’s view but hers. Yet, Annabelle felt like there was more than the obvious hanging over her head like a funnel cloud. She felt as though she was being watched and at a very close range. However, as she looked around, no one was paying any attention to her whatsoever.
That animal in the woods is making your imagination run wild, Annabelle tried to reason with herself. The near brush with whatever it was out in the trees caused her some sort of posttraumatic stress. Her nerves were frayed. You’re looking for drama when you already have more than enough.
Sighing, she looked back at her surroundings, realizing that she was once more staring wistfully into the woods, as if willing the creature to return. You are losing your mind. You are looking for a mountain lion to come back. Who do you think you are? You’re not Snow White befriending wild animals. You need to snap out of this and stop looking for distractions.
But no matter what she told herself, she felt hypnotized, drunk almost. Of course! You’re drunk! The realization hit Annabelle happily, and she seized the explanation blindly, even though she knew that was not the cause of her unease. Regardless, Annabelle decided that it was time to retire to the tent and sleep off whatever haze was clouding her mind.
“Baby, I’m going to sleep,” she whispered in Jax’s ear quietly. He glanced at her, his gray eyes narrowing suspiciously, but on his mouth, he wore a smile for the benefit of the others.
“Already? We just got here!” he cried loudly. “You didn’t even drive!”
“Yeah, Anna! Stay up!” Brock bellowed as he overheard.
“Come on, Annabelle!” Julian added. “We never really get to hang out with you! Jax keeps you hidden away all the time. Stay up a little while longer.”
Jax’s eyes were little slits as the other boys echoed the sentiments, and Annabelle saw the jealousy flash in his eyes. Annabelle felt the blood drain out of her face, understanding that their well-meaning objections were going to be the source of trouble for her later. She smiled thinly at the group, shaking her head.
“Tomorrow night,” she promised quickly, depositing a kiss on Jax’s cheek and rising to her feet. “I think it was just a long day.”
“That’s all I get? A shitty cheek kiss?” Jax demanded. He jumped to his feet and crushed his lips against hers, causing her teeth to push against his. A cheer went up from the boys.
“Good night,” Annabelle said again, trying not to wipe the kiss from her face in front of witnesses.
There were a chorus of boos followed by rounds of, “Good night,” and “See you later,” which chased Annabelle into the small, three-person tent she was to share with Jax. Once inside, she hurriedly changed into a pair of red pajamas and hunkered down in a warm sleeping bag, immediately shutting her eyes. She was trying to block out the noise from outside, the weird thoughts coursing through her mind, and most of all, her feelings of woe.
She willed sleep to come and for the night to be over, but as usual, it was a long while before she finally drifted off. She had never been a stranger to insomnia. Annabelle lay awake counting sheep, taking meditative breaths, and eventually succumbing to listening to the sounds of the others in various stages of intoxication. Ultimately, she slipped into a dream state, still thinking of the luminous green eyes from the depth of the woods.
Annabelle was startled and woke suddenly. She didn’t immediately understand where she was, and it took her a moment to familiarize herself with her surroundings. In the pitch black and dead silence, she eventually meshed her physical presence with her subconscious and recognized the tent. Jax was sound asleep beside her. The partying had exhausted itself, and Annabelle very slowly slipped out of the sleeping bag and found her shoes. Her bladder was at its tipping point, but she wanted to ensure that Jax remained undisturbed.
If she played her cards right, she wouldn’t ever have to be alone with Jax the entire weekend, therefore giving her some reprieve from his cruel mistreatment. Like a ghostly apparition, she silently crept from the tent. With her pen flashlight in hand, she made her way into the trees behind the campsite. Bryden had fallen asleep near the dying fire in a lawn chair, his guitar half off his lap, but none of the other men were in sight. Annabelle assumed they had stumbled back to their own tents at some point during the night. Confident that she was well hidden among the thick branches, she lowered her flannel pants and crouched near a bush to relieve herself.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” a voice hissed at her from the inky blackness.
Her heart leaped into her throat, and she moved the flashlight’s beam in the direction of the accusation. Jax stood a few feet away, glowering at her like a menacing lumberjack. Annabelle could detect the smell of tequila seeping from his pores, something she hadn’t noticed in the tent. She idly wondered if he had just taken a shot before following her. Not that it much mattered; Jax didn’t require alcohol to be a jerk. Annabelle finished and jumped to her feet, pulling up her pajamas.
“Wh-what do you mean?” she whispered, her heart hammering to a familiar staccato.
“You have to flirt with all the guys and embarrass me. I was sitting right there in front of you, Annabelle, but you don’t give a shit, do you? You just kept drinking and playing with your hair. You have absolutely no respect for me!” He closed the distance between the two of them in steps.
Annabelle swallowed hard, afraid to speak, knowing whatever she had to say would be the wrong answer.
“Well? You aren’t even going to deny it?” he snarled, his tone still eerily quiet. She shook her dark curls vehemently.
“I wasn’t flirting, Jax!” she cried, but she knew her words were only falling on deaf ears. She braced herself.
“Lower your goddamn voice, Annabelle! You’re going to wake everyone up. You don’t think of anyone but yourself, do you?”
A familiar swelling of tears stung her iridescent irises, and she hung her head, waiting for the onset of harsh words.
“I don’t take care of you? You have to go looking for other men?” he continued, circling her like a lion around a wounded gazelle. Annabelle shook her head harder.
“No, baby! I wasn’t flirting! I swear! I only want you!”
“It sure didn’t seem like that tonight. You w
ere laughing and touching Brock like he was your man. Do you want Brock to be your man, Annabelle?”
She choked back a sob, still moving her head back and forth at a frantic pace.
“Are you sure?” He stopped pacing and grabbed her by the arms, his manicured fingers digging into her tender flesh. “Look at me!”
She obliged instantly. Oh my God. He’s finally going to do it. He’s drunk, and he’s going to hit me. What am I going to do if he hits me? The panic she was feeling was suffocating, and she stared at him, her violet eyes fearful as his steely gaze pierced into her. For a moment, time froze as if the gods themselves were deciding how the next seconds should proceed.
“Prove it,” he whispered, pulling her close. Heart hammering, she allowed him to draw her in for a rough embrace, the smell of stale beer overwhelming her. His lips crushed down on her, bruising her mouth.
“Prove you don’t want anyone else,” he urged, his hand reaching up to the back of her neck.
Eagerly, she returned his kiss, elated that his anger had not escalated into violence. Annabelle felt some of the stress ease out of her physique, even though his touch was clumsy. Jax’s free hand snaked its way up her shirt and found its way to her firm breast. She winced as his fingers twisted her erect nipple harshly. He bit her lower lip, daring her to shy away, but she stayed put and let his lips move down her throat, sucking ruthlessly. She knew there would be blotches in the morning, markings of his territory.
Suddenly, he turned her around, pushing her against a fir tree face first and yanking her pants down. His own pants were already around his ankles. Annabelle barely had time to steady herself when Jax pushed his knee between her tanned thighs, creating a small gap while his fingers fondled her from the front. Annabelle moaned quietly in pleasure and looked over into the bushes, noticing a pair of green eyes staring down.