Creatures

THREE

Christine didn't talk to him for the rest of the trip. It must've been thirty minutes before he completely turned off the road, and started up a dirt forest trail.

Finally, they arrived at what seemed like nowhere. The trail simply stopped, dead ended by a huge southern live oak. Cars were parked sporadically in the clearings.

He parked and turned off the car, getting out. Before she could decide to follow him, he opened the door for her. Not bothering to thank him, she took her bag from the floorboards and slung it over her shoulder.

"We walk from here." He established.

"No shit. Lead the way. Just don't kill me. I do have a butterfly knife on me somewhere." She warned.

He looked at her. "Where?"

"That's why I said somewhere, you dolt." She snapped back.

He held out his hand. "Give it to me, Christine."

She shook her head incredulously. "Hell to the fucking no! What am I supposed to defend myself with?!"

He looked her up and down. "It's in your bra, isn't it?"

"Nope." She lied.

He narrowed his eyes. "Your brothers just admitted to lying to me for over six years and you think you're gonna carry weapons into my home? No."

She snorted. "Well, have fun with that because I have another on my keys and a couple in my bag."

His brows creased. "Why on earth do you have so many knives?"

She gestured widely to the forest. "Have you seen where I live? I'm a chick who walks home almost every day. Why wouldn't I? They're to protect me from freaks like you."

"Christine, the last thing I would do is hurt you. I told you, you're under my care."

She scoffed. "Oh, so that bit earlier about hiding my ass - that wasn't a threat? And you want to take away my only method of defense? No, thanks."

He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then came out of it. "Oh, that was. Most definitely. And I would still, to keep you in line. Give me the backpack."

She started taking steps back and shaking her head.

"Christine," he said in a warning tone, "if you run I will chase you, and you couldn't possibly run fast enough."

The backpack landed in the dirt, she turned on her heel, and sprinted off.

He swore, and Christine didn't get far. She landed hard, facedown on the ground, pinned down by him. She shouted, twisted, kicked, punched, anything she could think of. He did nothing but hold her down.

After several moments, she calmed. "Get off of me." She demanded.

He let Chrissy up just enough for her to turn on her back. She was breathing heavily, angry as well as out of breath.

"Give me the knife."

She scowled. "You want it so bad? Take it!" Quickly, she drew the knife out of her sleeve, and thrusted it up into his stomach. "You really think I'm that dumb? Obviously you know this forest better than me." She attempted to kick him off, and to her great surprise, he didn't budge. In fact, he looked down, grasped the handle, slowly pulling it from his chest. Tristan flipped the blade and stabbed it into the ground, his blood trailed down the edge, mixing with the dirt.