“I’m so sorry, I should leave,” Evan said.
Ben waved his hand to dismiss her apology. “No, Evan, Win is out of line.” He looked totally perplexed. One of his daughters was about to burst, and he didn’t know which one. “They both need to calm down.”
“I can’t believe you are protecting that man.” Rowan shook her head. “We all saw him.”
“You can’t prove it!” she protested. “I know him. He wouldn’t have done this. He wouldn’t hurt me!”
“And neither would Evan!” Rowan shouted, her face flaming. She stalked away, gripping the sink for support. “If he’s so innocent, where the hell is he? Where has he been all this time, your knight in shining armor?”
Win wept. “I don’t know.”
“You think he loves you? Are you really so naive?”
“He does,” she spluttered. “I know he does. You don’t know him. You thought Spencer loved you, and he was controlling you all along.”
“What has that got to do with anything?” Rowan yelled. “Are you honestly comparing your woodsman to Evan? A woman here in the flesh, a woman who actually supports me? Get a grip, Win. He is using you, and he killed our grandfather!”
“He did not!” Win threw back in temper, her nose running. “You are so blind, Rowan, so blind! You don’t want to be alone; you’ll do anything to avoid the truth.”
Rowan smiled nastily. “Oh, really, what’s that?”
“That you’re hurt and angry… you can’t forgive Dad for leaving you. He pushed you away when you needed him…because of what you did to Mom.”
Ben let out a loud moan, rolling his eyes skyward as if he’d guessed at some point during this fight, he would get dragged into it.
“Win,” Ben said, taking her firmly by the shoulders. “This is really not the time or place, nor is it therapy. Rowan and I are working out our problems.” But Win stared her sister down, Rowan’s chest rising and falling rapidly. In the corner, Evan watched the whole thing in horror.
“He hurt you so much, and you can’t let it go,” Win sniffed. “Admit it.”
Rowan’s shoulders slackened. “So I have ‘daddy’ issues? Is that what you are insinuating? Okay, maybe you are right. Spencer was my lifeline; he got in my head, made me feel worthy. Dad never looked me in the eye after I let Mom go. I thought he hated me. When I came here, this handsome, clever guy was all over me, wouldn’t leave me alone, and made me so dependent on him. Sometimes I couldn’t see straight. I couldn’t think for myself. But don’t you, even for a second, compare what I have with Evan to Spencer. You are so blinded by your stupid crush; you’re the one who can’t see straight!”
“It’s not a crush!” Win was exhausted, her chest tight.
“This is bullshit!” Rowan snapped. “You better get out of here before someone says something they regret!”
Win dissolved into tears, pushing past her father and into the hallway. When Evan protested her support, Ben pushed her away. “Let her go,” he said. Win heaved against the front door, letting it slam behind her, ignoring the stares from some lingering mourners as she shoved by.
Win’s throat was raw; she took off into the forest, her heels uncomfortable as she ran. They sank into the mud, bringing her so near to exploding she flung them off in temper. For a moment, she thought about Jennifer Riley. She thought about tracking the older woman and dragging her back to the house by her hair. She would make her confess! But there was only one person Win needed.
She ran, quickly picking up speed. She ducked ferns and darted through the undergrowth. She caught her dress on a low bramble; it ripped through the silk hem. Win lifted her chin, sniffing the damp air. She had to find him.
Wiping her eyes, she slowed, trying to pick up Grayson’s scent, his fiery, woodland smell. Tension rippled under her skin, filled with need. Rowan was delusional. Evan was hiding something; she knew it. She couldn’t take another moment in the house with her, simpering, skulking in corners, watching them. Win stopped for a moment, catching her breath. The memory of the anger flashing in Rowan’s eyes came back to her. The words they’d exchanged were so heated, so furious.
She’ll never speak to me again, Win thought, her chest tightening. Rain spat from the sky; she carried on sprinting through the trees until, at last, she caught a waft under her nose. She smiled, turning on her heels and running wildly, parallel to the brook. He was here, somewhere.
“Grayson,” she called. Her voice hurt. “Grayson!”
She trotted along the brook, minding her step, the rocks sharp beneath her bare feet. “Grayson.”
She smelled fire, embers on the breeze. She had smelled enough burning to last a lifetime, but it must be his camp. Stood on tiptoe, she peered down the brook, the water rushing past her feet. “Grayson?”
There was someone there. He was hooded, his crossbow down at his side. He was sitting on a large rock overhung the water, his boots inches from the rapid current. There was a small campfire and blankets on the ground as if he’d been sleeping out here a while. He didn’t seem to hear her as she crept up behind him; his long hair was free, tangled, and grimy. He jerked when she stepped on a twig, cracking under her weight. He whirled about, and Win gasped. What had happened to him?
“Win?” He was grey. His face ashen, he looked gaunt, cheeks slimmed down to hollows. He was so pale. It made his eyes look like glass. “You’re alright?”
“Of course I am!” she cried. He got to his feet, nearly staggering into her arms. He swept her up, holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe. She buried her face in his face, his neck. “What happened to you?”
He let her down, cupping her face. “Win, I’m sorry. Your grandpa…I wanted to come to you.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He shook his head weakly. “I couldn’t…Win, I need to tell you something.”
“Tell me you didn’t do it, please!” she begged, her wide eyes staring up at him.
“What?” he choked.
“You didn’t do it? You didn’t kill my grandpa? Please tell me the truth….”
Grayson creased at the eyes. He swallowed visibly. Her face was so open, so honest. His mouth tried to find the words. “Win…no. Of course, I didn’t kill him.”
Win smiled, exhaling. “I knew you wouldn’t,” she said, relief surging through her. Her fingers played with the collar of his coat, pressing against him. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you. It’s been so messed up.”
“But I do need to talk to you.”
“Yes…later!” She was so desperate, so needy he didn’t push her away when she kissed him. It was bruising, hard, her mouth searching his. He was weak, letting her snake her arms around him, but he kissed so hard she stumbled backward. She tried to breathe between kisses, but it was delirious, mindless. She had missed him so much. She was lost. This time she wasn’t going to let him end it. Fire burned under her fingers; her insides ached with need.
He broke away. “I’m sorry,” he said against her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“You can’t be sorry.” She kissed his face. “I walked out on my family for you. So you better not stop kissing me, not until I say so.”
Twenty Five
THE FOREST WAS silent; there was nothing except the soft rising and falling of her breath as she pulled him down to the ground. Grayson greedily kissed her neck, scorching fire along her jawline, while she frantically pushed the coat off his shoulders. He tossed it aside, his hands in her hair, on her legs. Instinctively, she arched up into him, letting him find the zipper at the back of her dress. He tugged it downward, and when it got stuck halfway, she moaned against his mouth in frustration. He smiled against her cheek, giving it one last yank before it came free. Win sat up, crawling into his lap, arms up as he pulled the dress off over her head, her curls tumbling down her naked back. He went to unclip her bra, pausing for a moment. She had snaked her legs around his waist. She cupped his face with her hands so she could look at hi
s glassy clear eyes.
His fingers paused on the catch. “So, we are doing this?” he said, uncertain.
She kissed him again, feeling his resolve melt away. Her heartbeat danced around in her chest, heat rapidly spreading through her. His tongue probed her mouth hungrily, her fingers finding the buttons on his shirt, seeking out the skin underneath. She tugged on his belt buckle, whipping it free, as they both struggled backward, Win felt the cold earth on her back as she landed, pulling him down on top of her. Win sensed a need deep inside her, a strange ache, his kisses more intense, like electricity bolts were coursing through her veins. A moment of panic exploded inside her. He wound his arm under her hips, her body going rigid, fear crossing her face. Win was panting, one half of her mind wildly delirious, the other half, the rational half, racked with nerves. He was looking at her, staring at the length of her naked body underneath him. Her breath caught, and he wound his fingers through hers, their palms pressed tightly together.
“It’s alright,” he said, his expression so soft, his perfect face she loved every inch of. “We don’t have to do anything.”
Win knew he must be desperate, yearning to take what he needed from her. She swallowed, running a hand through his white-blonde hair. “I said not to stop kissing me, Grayson. You owe me.”
If she was going to die soon, she wanted to do this in her own body, on her own terms, before it was all snatched away from her. Moments later, his jeans were gone, and she hooked him closer with her leg, arching her hips.
Her toes curled in anticipation, languid, flowing vibrations coursing through her. She never wanted it to end. He cried out into her hair, his weight bearing down on her as his shoulders stiffened. Breathing hard, he released her; she collapsed back onto the cool ground. Leaning on both his forearms, he looked down at her, his hair falling about his face.
“Are you alright?” he whispered, his thumb tracing across her lower lip. Shifting his weight off her, emotion bubbled up in her throat. She rolled away from him. Grayson cradled her from behind. “What’s wrong?”
She smiled and leaned back, kissing him lightly. “I’m okay.” Her heart thumped wildly; she struggled to come back to earth, oddly numb, knowing she’d never be able to explain it to him. Drenched in relief, she had taken something for herself. The curse wouldn’t take everything. It wouldn’t take this.
“Wait here.” He crawled to the campfire, hurrying back with the blankets and tossing them across the two of them. “Better?”
She smiled, rolling toward him, snuggling into his body so warm against her. He traced his fingers over her bare shoulder, playing with a loose strand of red hair. He looked better than he had when she had first arrived at the camp. His cheeks were flushed with color, his eyes shining, propped on one elbow, gazing down at her. “You finally got your way,” he teased, his face splitting into a grin.
Win laughed. “Don’t pretend to be coy now,” she joked, resting her head on his bicep, letting her fingers play with the silver chain around his neck.
He stared at her seriously. “But this is what you wanted?” he asked, and she grinned, flushing.
“Yes, of course,” she whispered. Was it? She pushed the thoughts away, smiling to herself. She wouldn’t pretend now she hadn’t been daydreaming about this moment for months.
“Was it what you expected?”
Win rolled her eyes bashfully. “I don’t know. I mean, do you want a grading?” She laughed as he poked her ribs. “I don’t know what I expected. I know I want to do it again.”
Grayson rolled his eyes, sliding onto his back sleepily, pulling Win with him, so she lay content across his chest. “You’ll have to give me a minute.”
Win yawned, content and exhausted. Fragments of her argument with Rowan were threatening to press into her memory. She batted them away carelessly. Grayson had his eyes closed but knew what she was up to. She was watching him. “Are you okay?”
He opened his eyes, rolling toward her. “I’m good.”
“Was it what you expected?”
He pinched her chin, kissing her lightly, his mouth curled in amusement. “What makes you think I haven’t done that before?”
Win cocked her head, giggling. “I’m kind of guessing you haven’t.”
Grayson pulled a face. “Thanks!”
“No—I didn’t mean that!” Win broke into a fit of giggles, then she sobered, running her fingers over his chin, his lower lip. He was hers, completely. “You know what I meant.”
He kissed her again, smiling against her mouth, and when he pulled back, his expression darkened. “I know what you meant. And you’re right—I haven’t.”
He tried not to smile as she danced her fingers over his chest, working their way under the blanket. “What are you doing?”
Win laughed. “You said a minute.”
Grayson groaned, rolling over and kissing her into silence. Afterward, he wound the blanket around them both, his eyes narrowing at the darkening sky. He looked exhausted, and this time Win let him snooze.
“Do you know how hot your skin is?” Grayson moaned. “You’re like a toaster.”
Win rested her head against his chest. “I know I’m sorry.” She was going to let him sleep. His dark lashes closed against his skin. She watched him for a moment, her heart aching, knowing there was no way she could ever go back now. “Grayson…you wanted to tell me something?”
He made a noise in his throat, his head lolling away from her. He was asleep. Win stared at him, the contours of his face, chin propped on his chest. “I love you, you know.” She was wracked with emotion; the act of what they’d done had stirred up every nerve in her body. She fought back the tears. She wouldn’t cry now. She wouldn’t think about anything at home, the argument, the tension.
Grayson smiled. “I heard that,” he mumbled.
She didn’t expect him to say it back; she snuggled down under his arm, sleep pulling at her eyes.
Cold nipped at her toes. She huddled tighter under the blanket. Win was caught in a dream-like state, between waking up and her eyelids still refusing to open. Her limbs were heavy as she propped herself up on one elbow, peering sleepily around the campsite. Her body ached from sleeping on cold hard ground. Twigs dug into her naked flesh. She sat up rigidly. “Grayson?”
The fire was out, smoke billowing into the breeze. It was dark. Win hugged her knees to her chest, her eyes roaming the campsite wildly. “Grayson?” she called again, this time more urgent. She pulled back the blanket, brushing off dried leaves stuck to her, stones embedded in her skin.
Okay, don’t panic. She told herself. But a nagging apprehension poked at her subconscious. The brook bubbled a couple of meters away, the sound of water making her feel uncomfortable, she needed the toilet, but the last thing she wanted was for him to come back and catch her out. Win waited, her nerves becoming more frayed as every second passed. All around her, the sounds of the forest mocked her, rustles in bushes, owls hooting overhead, bugs tracking over tree birch. Win bit her lip, her stomach dropping. Where the hell was he?
Shivering, she retrieved her underwear, standing gingerly, holding the blanket to her breasts. Her underwear was hanging off a low branch. She snatched them up, her face flaming as she wiggled into them. She grimaced, shame coursing through her, wondering if this was how Ella must have felt after she had been with Luke for the first time. Win had a strange sensation of her body being invaded like it didn’t belong to her anymore. She found her bra, hurriedly strapping it on and slipping back into her black dress.
Where was Grayson? Win sat by the brook, arms folded across her chest, trying to ignore the kernel of fear growing rapidly in her belly. She rubbed her arms, blinking back tears.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, she willed herself. He’ll be back, and you’ll laugh about this.
But he didn’t appear. Win rocked on her bottom, feeling disjointed and alone. She batted away the feeling, which was slowly becoming a reality. He had
left her. In the middle of a clearing.
Win stood and paced frantically, her stupidity dawning on her. She’d thrown herself at him. She hadn’t seen him for days, over a week. He’d wanted to talk, and she hadn’t let him.
You’re an idiot, an idiot! She wished she had her phone. She could call Ella. She longed to hear the comfort and warmth in her voice. She’d know what to do. Rowan would kill her for this; she couldn’t imagine the look on her face. Not to mention her father’s.
“Oh god.” Win bit her lip to a pulp. Her gaze lifted to the trees, half expecting to see the falcon there. Even she wasn’t there to comfort her. God, she wanted her mom. She wanted Ella or Rowan. Even Luke would do. She wondered at how Luke had behaved with Ella when they had first started sleeping together. Would he have left her alone in a forest?
There had to be a reason for his absence. He had been alerted by something, an animal wandered into camp, and he’d chased it away? But as minutes ticked by, and he didn’t return, Win’s fear kernel grew into a giant stone in her stomach.
Lifting her chin, she decided she would have to find him herself. She narrowed her eyes, studying the ground, taking a deep breath, and letting her night vision kick in. The world blurred at the edges; she ducked to her knees, sniffing the ground, determined to pick up his scent. She circled the camp on her hands and knees, praying he wouldn’t choose this time to return and find her on all fours like an animal. Her fingers brushed through dry leaves, letting their smell wash over her. She closed her eyes.
She edged closer to the brook, peering over the edge of the rocks. He’d been here; she could smell the faint aroma of his body, his sweat mixed with hers.
Win’s guts churned, her face burning. Something was terribly wrong. She slid over the rocks, careful with her footing, scooting closer to the water and sniffing the air. She realized she could smell herself, her own bodily scent clinging to his skin like a blanket.
Her cheeks burned, a reminder of what they’d done flooding back to her. Her knees went weak. She needed to know what had happened to him and tried to follow the scent.
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