All Rhodes Lead Here

by Zapata, Mariana

  I knew I was going to have to go even slower than I’d planned.

  And the clouds opened up more, and I gave myself the middle finger for being a stubborn idiot.

  I had to be careful. I had to be slow.

  I couldn’t even call out for rescue because there wasn’t any service, and I wasn’t going to shame Rhodes by being that person who had to get saved. I could do this. My mom could do this. But…

  If I made it out of here, I was never doing this shit alone again. Didn’t I know better? Of course I fucking did.

  This was stupid.

  I should’ve stayed home.

  I wished I had more water.

  I wasn’t going to hike at all next year.

  I wasn’t going to walk anywhere ever again.

  Oh God, I still had to drive home.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  I wasn’t giving up. I could do this. I was going to make it.

  I was never doing a difficult hike again. At least not in a day. Fuck that shit.

  One foot after another took me down. I stopped. I hid under my tarp. The temperature started to drop, and I couldn’t believe I hadn’t brought my thicker jacket. I knew better.

  I layered Rhodes’s jacket over my pullover when I started to shiver.

  My water was getting low even though I’d filled it up with water from a creek, and I started having to take the tiniest sips every time I stopped because there weren’t any more water sources.

  My legs hurt worse and worse.

  I couldn’t catch my breath.

  I just wanted a nap.

  And a helicopter to come save me.

  My phone still wasn’t connecting.

  I was so stupid.

  I hiked and hiked. Down and down, slipping sometimes on the wet gravel and trying my best not to fall.

  I did. I busted my ass twice and scraped my palms.

  Two hours turned into three, I was going so slow. It was getting too dark.

  I was cold.

  I cried.

  Then I cried more.

  Genuine fear settled in. Had my mom been scared? Had she known she was screwed? I hoped not. God, I hoped not. I was scared already; I couldn’t imagine….

  Half a mile to go, but it felt like thirty.

  I took out my flashlight and put it in my mouth, clutching to my trekking poles for dear life because I would have probably died without them.

  Big, fat, sloppy tears of frustration and fear ran down my cheeks, and I took out the flashlight to scream “fuck” a couple of times.

  No one saw me. No one heard me. There was no one here.

  I wanted to get home.

  “Fuck!” I yelled again.

  I was finishing this motherfucker, and I was never doing this so-so hike again. This was bullshit. What did I have to prove? Mom had loved this. I liked six-mile hikes. Easy and intermediate ones.

  I was just kidding; I could do this. I was doing it. I was finishing it. It was okay to be scared, but I was getting out of here. I was.

  A tenth of a mile left that switchbacked and rounded and dipped, and I was cold, wet, and muddy.

  This sucked.

  I glanced at my watch and groaned when I saw the time. It was six. I should’ve been done hours ago. I was going to be driving in the dark, and I mean, the pitch-black shit. I could barely see anything now.

  All right. It was all right. I’d just have to go really slow. Take my time. I could do it. I had a spare. I had a Fix-a-Flat. I knew how to change a tire.

  I was going to make it home.

  Everything hurt. I was pretty sure my toes were bleeding. The cartilage in my knees was shot.

  This sucked.

  I could do it.

  It was fucking cold.

  This sucked.

  A couple more tears spilled out of my eyes. I was an idiot for doing this by myself, but I’d done it. Hail, some snow, rain, thunder, eating shit. I’d made it. I’d done this bitch-ass hike.

  I was tired and a couple more tears came out of my eyes, and I wondered if I’d taken a wrong turn and was on a game trail instead of on the real trail because nothing looked familiar, but then again it was dark and I could barely see anything that was out of the beam of my flashlight.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Then I saw it, the big, low-hanging tree that I’d had to duck under right at the beginning of the hike.

  I’d made it! I’d made it! I shivered so hard my teeth chattered, but I had an emergency blanket in my bag and in my car, and I had a thick, old jacket of Amos’s that had found its way in there somehow.

  I made it.

  More tears filled my eyes, and I stopped, tipping my head up. Part of me wished there were stars out that I could talk to, but there weren’t. It was too cloudy. But it didn’t stop me.

  My voice was hoarse from the screaming and the lack of water, but it didn’t matter. I still said the words. Still felt them. “I love you, Mom. This sucked ass, but I love you and I miss you and I’m going to try my best,” I said out loud, knowing she could hear me. Because she always did.

  And in a burst of energy I didn’t think I had in me, I took off running to my car, my toes crying, my knees giving up on my life, and my thighs shot for the rest of my existence—at least it felt like that in the moment. It was there.

  The only one.

  I didn’t know where the hell those other people had gone, but I had no energy left to wonder how I hadn’t run into them.

  Fuckers.

  As exhausted as I felt, I chugged down a quarter of my gallon bottle of water, stripped off Rhodes’s rain jacket and my damp one, and pulled Amos’s on. I took my shoes off and almost tossed them in the back seat but didn’t just in case I needed to get out of the car; instead, I propped them on the floor of the passenger seat. I wanted to look at my toes and see what the damage was, but I’d worry about it later.

  I checked my service, but it was still nonexistent. I shot off a message to Rhodes and Amos anyway.

  Me: Finally done, it’s a long story. I’m okay. Didn’t have service. I think the tower is down. On my way out, but I have to go slow.

  Then I backed out and started the trip home. It was going to take about an hour to get there once I got off this sketchy part. Best-case scenario, it would be two hours to get to the highway.

  And it was just as shit as I remembered. Worse even. But I didn’t care. I gripped the steering wheel for dear life, trying to remember what path I’d taken on the way up, but the rain had cleared my tracks.

  I got this. I can do it, I told myself, driving literally two miles an hour and squinting like never before and hopefully never again.

  My hands cramped, but I ignored them and the weird feeling of driving with no shoes on, but I wasn’t putting those boots back on anytime soon.

  I drove, not turning on the radio because I had to concentrate.

  I made it maybe a quarter of a mile down the road when two headlights flashed through the trees around a bend.

  Who the hell was driving up here this late?

  It was my turn to curse because the best path was straight down the middle, and it wasn’t like the road was wide to begin with. What were the chances? “Fuck,” I muttered just as the lights disappeared for a moment and then reappeared on the straightaway, coming toward me.

  It was an SUV or a truck for sure. A big one. And it was going a hell of a lot faster than I was.

  With a sigh, I pulled off to the side, zipping up Amos’s jacket to my chin, and then pulled off even more. With my luck today, I was going to get stuck.

  No, I wasn’t. I was going to get home. I was going to—

  I squinted at the approaching car.

  The SUV slammed to a stop, and the driver’s side door opened. I watched as a big figure jumped out and stopped in place for a second before starting to move again. Forward.

  I locked my doors, then squinted again and realized… I knew that body. I recognized those shoulders. That chest. The cap on what was de
finitely a man’s head.

  It was Rhodes.

  I wouldn’t remember throwing my own door open, then reaching to grab my shoes and slipping them halfway on before sliding out of my car. But I’d remember hobbling forward with my boots barely hanging on by my toes and watching Rhodes make his way toward me too.

  His face was… he looked furious. Why did that make me want to cry?

  “Hi,” I called out weakly. Relief shot straight through me. My voice broke in half, and I said the last thing I would have wanted to. “I was so scared—”

  Those big, muscular arms wrapped around me, the only thing holding me up, one hand going to palm the back of my head. My hair was wet with sweat—that shit wasn’t rain—but the entire length of his body pressed against mine. There and comforting, and everything I needed then and more.

  That entire beefy, hunky body trembled lightly, I faintly noticed. “No more hiking by yourself,” he whispered roughly, so hoarse it scared me. “No more.”

  “No more,” I agreed weakly. I shivered once in his arms, supported nearly completely by his frame. “It rained so much, and I don’t know where the fuck those clouds came from, but they were shitheads, and I had to hunker down.”

  “I know. I thought something happened.” I was pretty sure he stroked the curve of my head. “I thought you got hurt.”

  “I’m okay. Everything hurts, but just because I’m tired and these boots suck. I’m sorry.”

  I felt him nod against me. “I came up here as fast as I could when your text came through. I had to go to Aztec and didn’t get service. Amos called me flipping out. He wanted to come, but I made him stay, and now he’s pissed off. I got here as fast as I could.” The hand on the back of my head swept down my spine, palming the small of my back, and there was no way I was imagining the fact he hugged me tight. “Don’t ever do that again, Aurora. Do you hear me? I know you can do this all by yourself, but don’t.”

  At this point, I was never going hiking again. Ever. Another shiver shook through my body. “I’m so happy to see you, you have no idea. It was so dark, and I got really scared there for a while,” I admitted, feeling my own body start to tremble.

  The hand on my head stroked down, pulling me in so close, I felt like if he could have put me inside of him, he would have.

  “You’re fine though? You’re not hurt?” he asked.

  “Nothing I won’t get over. Not like last time.” I pressed my cheek against his chest, savoring his warmth. His steadiness. I was fine. I was safe. “Thank you for coming.” I pulled back a little and gave him a small, sheepish smile. “Even though it’d be you they’d send in if I didn’t make it back, huh?”

  Rhodes’s face was serious, his pupils wide, as he stared down at me, taking in my features with dark eyes. “I didn’t come because it’s my job.”

  Then, before I could react, those arms were around me again, swallowing me up completely. A human cocoon I could have lived in for the rest of my life.

  I didn’t imagine the faint tremble that shot through those hard muscles.

  And I definitely didn’t imagine the fierce expression he shot me when he pulled back again. His hands moved to settle low on my back. “Are you fine to drive?”

  I nodded.

  One of those hands moved to squeeze my hip in a way I wasn’t even sure he knew he was doing it as his gaze roamed my face. “Buddy?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I want you to know… Amos is going to want to kill you.”

  That was probably the only thing that could have made me laugh then, and I did. Then I told him the absolute truth. “That’s okay. I’m kind of looking forward to it.”

  Chapter 22

  Everything hurt.

  Literally, every single part of my body ached in some way. From my poor toes that felt like they were bleeding, to my calves that were traumatized, to my exhausted thighs and butt cheeks. If I focused hard enough, my nipples probably hurt too. But it was my hands and forearms that suffered the most on the drive home.

  Those one hundred and twenty minutes were spent with me clutching the steering wheel for dear life, holding my breath more often than not.

  If I hadn’t just spent the last few hours terrified, my body might have been capable of summing up genuine fear at the rocks and ruts that I drove over. It was only because I was so focused on following Rhodes and not driving over anything sharp, that I didn’t lose my shit as we drove painstakingly slow. And if I hadn’t been so tired, I might have cheered when we finally made it to the highway.

  It was then that I finally managed to exhale, deeply and completely, from the bottom, bottom of my gut.

  I’d made it.

  I really had made it.

  It had to be the relief that kept me from shaking on the rest of the drive. But the moment after I turned off my car, that was when it hit me. It was a backhand to my face when I wasn’t expecting it.

  I blew out a breath a split second before my entire body started shaking. In shock, in fear.

  Leaning forward, I pressed my forehead against the steering wheel and shook hard from my neck down to my calves.

  I was fine, and that was all that mattered.

  I was fine.

  The door to my left opened, and before I could turn my head to the side, a big hand landed on my back and Rhodes’s gruff voice spoke inside the car. “I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re going to be okay, angel.”

  I nodded, my forehead still there even as another harsh shiver racked my body.

  His hand stroked farther down my spine. “Come on. Let’s get inside. You need food, water, rest, and a shower.”

  I nodded again, a knot forming in my throat.

  Rhodes reached behind me, and a moment later my seat belt loosened. Rhodes guided me to sit back, letting the seat belt snap back into place. I glanced toward him right as he leaned forward, and before I knew what was happening, his arms slipped beneath me, under the backs of my knees, the other under my shoulder blades, and he hoisted me up. Against his chest I went, cradled.

  And I said, “Oh” and “Rhodes, what are you doing?”

  And he said, “Taking you upstairs.” He closed the door with his hip before beginning to move, carrying me like it was no big deal as we made our way to the garage apartment. The door was unlocked, so all it took was a quick flip of his wrist to open it before we were going up.

  “If you help me, I can do the stairs myself,” I told him, taking in the silver-brown facial hair covering his jaw and chin.

  His gray eyes flicked to me as he took one step after another up. “You can, and I would, but I can do it.” And like he was proving a point, he squeezed me tighter to him, closer to that broad chest that had been the biggest relief of my life when I’d spotted him coming out of his car.

  He’d come for me. I pressed my lips together and glanced down at my hands, which I was holding against my chest, and felt more tears spring up in my eyes. That same familiar fear that I’d suppressed the entire drive home flared up inside of me again.

  Another shiver raced through me, strong and potent, coaxing a few more tears into my eyes.

  I could feel Rhodes’s gaze on my face as he kept on climbing the stairs, but he didn’t say a word. His arms held me even closer somehow, his mouth dipping closer too, and if I hadn’t closed my eyes, I was pretty sure I would have seen him brush his mouth against my temple. Instead, all I did was feel it, light and more than likely an accident.

  I sucked in my breath and held back a choke as he lowered me to the bed and said, quietly, “Take a shower.”

  Opening my eyes, I found him standing almost directly in front of me. A frown took over his mouth as I nodded.

  “I reek, I’m sorry,” I apologized, barely able to get the words out.

  His frown got even more severe.

  I pressed my lips together.

  Rhodes’s head cocked to the side at the same time his gaze moved over my face and he said very carefully, “You had a scare, angel.”
>
  I nodded, holding my breath and trying to swallow the emotion clogging my throat. “I was just thinking….” I sniffled, my words a croak.

  Rhodes kept on looking at me.

  I curled my fingers in my lap, felt my knee shaking, and whispered, “You know that time I told you I wasn’t scared of dying?” I scrunched up my face and felt a tear slip out of my eye and stream down my cheek. “I was lying. I am scared.” A few more tears escaped, hitting my jawline. “I know I wouldn’t have died, but I still thought I was going to once or twice—”

  A big, big hand swept over half of my face before doing the same to the other side, and in the time it took me to realize what he was doing, I was up again, his arms around me once more. Then I was on top of him, seated across his thighs with my shoulder to his chest, and it was me that pressed my face to his throat as another shiver ran through me.

  “I was so scared, Rhodes,” I whispered into his skin as his arm curled low around my back.

  “You’re okay now,” he said hoarsely.

  “All I could think about, when I could, was that I had so much still left to live for. There’s so much I want to do, and I know it’s dumb. I know I’m fine. I know the worst that could have happened was that I’d have to hide under a tree with my tarp and an emergency blanket to rest for a while, but then I pictured myself falling down and getting hurt and no one knowing where I was, or not being able to help me, and I was alone. And why did I go alone? What the hell do I have to prove to anybody? My mom wouldn’t have wanted me to feel like that, right?”

  He shook his head against me, and I buried my face even deeper into the softest skin of his throat.

  “I’m sorry. I know I stink and I’m sticky and gross, but I was so happy to see you. And I’m so glad you went. Otherwise….” I sniffled, and a couple more tears spilled between us. I could feel them stream between my cheeks and his skin.

  Rhodes hugged me even closer to him, and his voice was steady when he said, “You’re fine. You’re totally fine, angel face. Nothing’s going to happen. I’m here, and Am is next door, and you’re not alone. Not anymore. It’s all right. Take a breather.”