Andrea gave Bonnie a long, slow smile, their hands reached out and, for some time, they lay there. Content to be together. Staring at the hot sky. At a wisp of cloud, which had appeared, it seemed, from nowhere. Andrea watched it move across the broad sweep of blue.
“Bonnie?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Y’know Rick,” Andrea felt awkward about bringing Rick into the equation. Especially just after she and Bonnie had made love for the first time. But she had to get it out of her system, once and for all. She moved her head so she could see Bonnie’s face. Bonnie was suddenly quite still. She kept on staring skyward.
“Well, I didn’t want him and all that stuff. I want you to know that, Bonnie. I was testing myself. Wondering how it would be—y’know? Seeing if I could go through with it. I’m glad he didn’t take me up on it now. Because I know it was you that I really wanted, Bonnie. It was you all the time. Only, I was too scared to admit it ...”
“You’re a dummy. Y’know that, Andrea Winston?”
“You think so?”
“I sure do. You’re such a girl; and I love you for it.” With studied nonchalance, Bonnie still gazed skyward. Andrea grinned, leaned up on an elbow and kissed her full on the mouth. It felt good. She did it again. They both laughed. Bonnie rolled over, quickly, grabbed her by the shoulders and held her down. And kissed her. And for a while they were lost in each other.
Drawn to the heat, a bunch of mosquitoes danced around their faces. Bonnie swore, rolled over and swatted them out of her hair, off her face and arms. Andrea, already sitting up, slapped busily at her legs. Strange how they hadn’t noticed the little bastards before ...
They gave up swatting and, laughing at themselves, fell back onto the soft grass. Their lips still curving with their own secret smiles, they remained in silence for a while longer. Neither wanted to break the spell; their amazing, magical bond that had changed everything for them both.
They grinned and toasted themselves with the last of their water.
Chinking the sun-warmed bottles together, they drained the final dregs.
They sat in silence for a while longer. Then Bonnie looked at her wristwatch. Almost an hour had passed since they’d made love. She said to Andrea, “You okay to carry on? I vote we get moving. Been out here in the wilds, livin’ next to nature, for too long. Kinda gets to you after a while!”
Andrea blushed and smiled. “You’re the boss,” she said.
Feeling hot, happy, and emotionally replete, Bonnie and Andrea both felt a twist of sadness at leaving this, their special spot in the wilderness. They fastened up their packs, shrugged into the straps, adjusted themselves and, hand in hand, continued along the trail toward Mulligan Lake.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The car stopped again.
There was a quiet sound of the latch releasing. The trunk lid started to lift open. Gillian, on her back with the belt and rope clamped in her teeth, bolted up. She grabbed the edge of the trunk, flung a leg over it, and rolled. She dropped. She heard the car door shut. Her side rammed the bumper. She heard rushing footfalls as she hit the ground. Flipping over, she thrust herself up and ran.
• Holden raced at her from behind. His breath came out in snarls. Gillian hissed in pain as something raked her right calf. She kicked the leg forward as fast as she could and heard the rustly sound of a body smashing onto the pine needles that matted the forest floor. Holden gasped out a quick “Awg!”
A glance back. He was skidding on his belly. He must’ve made a dive for her.
The thought flashed through Gillian’s mind that she should whirl around and try to overpower him while he was down. She tore the belt and rope from her teeth and pictured herself beating him with them, but she kept on running, knowing it would’ve been foolish to fight him. This way, at least, she was sure to gain the few moments it would take him to get back onto his feet.
She dashed through the pines. Springy limbs smacked her body and bent away. Others scratched. She leaped over rocks, over barriers of fallen trees. Rocks and twigs and pine cones punished her feet. But all the pain seemed to belong to someone else. She was free. Though Holden was pounding through the woods behind her, she still had her lead, she still had her chance.
I’ll make it.
He won’t get me again!
He’d had her but someone had come along and he’d rushed her into the trunk but with hands still tied to the belt. Untying herself had been easy. She’d been given her chance.
Gillian lunged between two trees The branches tried to hold her back, shoving at her face and chest, but she plowed through. And found herself in a flat, sunlit clearing.
She picked up speed. She tucked her head down and darted her long legs out fast and far. The belt and rope in her right hand flew as she pumped her arms. They lashed her face and shoulder and breast, they whipped her thigh and groin. They scorched her. She wanted to throw them down. But she might need them later. She couldn’t waste time balling them up to stop their flailing. So she ran as hard as she could, bearing the pain, hoping the snapping belt and rope would stay away from her eyes.
The sound of Holden’s crashing feet went silent. “Stop or I’ll shoot!” he shouted.
Gillian sprinted across the clearing. She heard her harsh breathing, the soft crushing noise of her footfalls, the sharp smack of the belt striking her bare skin, the softer whup of the rope’s lash.
She listened for a gunshot.
She could almost feel a slug crashing into her back. Right between the shoulder blades.
He doesn’t want to kill me, she thought. That’d spoil his fun.
He’ll try to go for the legs.
The sound of the gun reached her ears, filled her head. It was a quick metallic clack.
Silencer?
She heard the sound again and realized it was the hammer dropping.
The hammer snapped down fast, again and again. Gillian didn’t try to count the quick hard dada, but they went on and on.
She glanced back.
Holden stood in a shooter’s stance at the edge of the clearing, far behind her. The front of his pale knit shirt had a dark patch of blood on one side a few inches above his waist. He brought the revolver up dose to his face and scowled at it.
That was all Gillian saw before she swung her head forward again.
Empty gun, she thought. What luck!
Then she thought, My good Christ, I’m the one who unloaded it !
It was the revolver she’d found yesterday in his desk. Had to be. She remembered the cartridges tumbling into her palm, how she had dropped them into her shirt pocket and the heavy feel of them against her breast. Then she had put the revolver back into the drawer where it belonged-where Holden must’ve grabbed it before driving her from his home.
I saved my life.
The thought astonished her.
Not only had she rendered the revolver harmless, but it had caused Holden to stop while he took aim and snapped the hammer down on all the empty chambers. Now he was far behind her.
You’re not out of it yet, she warned herself. Don’t let it go to your head. You’ve had a couple of reprieves, that’s all. You’re in the middle of nowhere and he’s not going to give up............
She came to the edge of the clearing, dodged a tree, and dashed into the shadows.
Hide? she wondered.
Not yet. But maybe soon. Duck behind some rocks or something.
He might see you do it. Then he’d have you.
If you’re going to do it, you’d better do it now.