"If the cold doesn't kill you, the wolves will."
NOT A WEREWOLF STORY
Book 1 of 2.
In which an 18-year-old girl flees to Alaska to escape being accused of murder & to uncover what happened to her uncle. Involves two gentle giants.
Completed. :)
Fea...
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Chapter 16 | THE NAME WILSON AND PARANOIA
I blink, kind of feeling trapped for some unknown reason. Even though Vaughn's a yard or so away from me, he has a way of just making me feel cornered when he directs targeted questions at me. It's totally unreasonable, seeing as how he's so serious over nothing, but I can't help how I feel.
"I honestly just wanted some beans," I state. "Because I'm hungry. But, if the whole frying pan issue is that problematic, then I suppose my beef jerky will have to do."
I reach into my bag and take out a water bottle and my beef jerky, walking to my spot by the fire. Before I start to eat, I build up the fire again, putting some more logs onto it.
Then, I slowly start to chew on the food, as that will fill me up faster.
Vaughn stays silent, so I decide to answer his earlier questions for no real reason whatsoever. Maybe I just feel bored, or perhaps I want him to talk to me; who really knows?
As the vivid sunset progresses, I say: "I do not expect to do nothing. I don't expect anything to be handed to me. I expect to work for what I want. I don't expect to be 'safeguarded and protected' against all dangers, but I do expect to be told how to protect myself from them."
He doesn't say anything. He just stares at me, almost curiously.
Or maybe that's just my hopeful side doing what it does best: hoping. Who truly knows?
Finally, as the sky grows darker, he nods faintly.
"Fine."
I raise my right eyebrow, "What?"
"If you can prove to me that you can survive on your own, I'll help you."
My eyes seem to automatically squint. "Then, why are you here?"
"I don't trust you."
"That's total crap. I mean, not the whole not trusting me thing. That's clearly true. I mean, that's not your reason."
"And you can read my mind now?"
"No, but I'm assuming. Even I would leave someone whom I don't trust to chill out overnight in a cave. I don't particularly trust you to not kill me in my sleep."
"Even if I did, would it be such a big deal? Painless, you wouldn't even know."
I frown, scooting a bit farther away from him. "Okay, see, that's not the typical, reassuring, trust-building reply that you should give to a freaked-out teenage girl."
He looks a bit apologetic, "I won't kill you in your sleep. Or at all, for that matter. I give you my word."
"Thanks, do you give me your word that you're not a pathological liar, too?"
