disappointed? Narrowing his eyes, he seems to think about it for a moment before grunting, “Night.”
“Night, Buck.”
Soft rays peek through the tall Pine trees throwing shadows on the wood deck at my feet the next afternoon. The light rustle of trees in the wind fights to be heard over the rush of the river. It’s a forest musical.
Leaning my back against the cedar siding of the house, I stretch my legs out in front of me. My toes meet the end of the wood deck, finding the soft warm rays casting there, instantly heating them up.
It’s heaven here. There’s nothing up here but wilderness. No humans, no homes, no stores, nothing. I know why Buck picked this spot.
I’ve spent the last week up here alone, most of the time. Eight days with a lot of time on my hands. I’m okay with it though. I’ve wandered, I’ve read, I’ve napped, and I’ve relaxed.
I woke up alone. The house was empty and void of any trace of Buck. I have no idea where he went and when he’ll be back. It’s nothing new. I’m always alone, even when he’s here.
One hour and countless chapters later, the growl of engines cut through the quiet. Bill jumps off the deck, barking and howling down the driveway. What the hell? Sitting up, I crane my neck to see a white van coming through the trees, crawling up the gravel road towards me.
I instantly feel sick. Whipping my head from side to side, I start to plan my escape. My nerves shoot through the roof and my heart is in my throat. Taking a few steps back towards the door, the roar of bikes drown out the van.
Staring wide-eyed at the driveway, I watch the van drive on by, past the shop and disappear into the woods with two bikes on its tail. Buck rolls to a stop in front of me while the other bike keeps going. It’s definitely not the bike, nor the white van, that has me wide-eyed now. No, it’s the ski mask covering Buck’s face that has me staring. What the shit?
Straddling his bike, Buck stares at me through the small cutout in the ski mask. The growl of the engine is drowning out to soft sounds of the forest, making it a hell of a lot less peaceful than it was three minutes ago. What the hell is going on?
Gesturing to his face, I mouth, “What is that?” Why the hell is he riding around with a damn ski mask on? Cutting the engine, Buck throws his leg over his matte black bike, which is damn near as sexy as he is, and tears the mask up over his face.
“Yo,” he grunts, jerking his chin in a gruff greeting. Twisting my hand in the air, I give a quick wave and throw my own confused “Yo,” back at him.
Bending down, he sticks a hand in the bag on the side of his bike. Digging around in his saddlebag, he rips out a brown paper sack and chucks it at me with no warning. The crumbled bag sails through the air and lands at me feet.
“Nice catch,” he says around a chuckle.
“Never claimed to be a catcher,” I smart back as I bend down to pick the bag up.
Holding the worn-out and wrinkled bag, I stare at Buck in pure confusion. “What is this?” It’s somewhat heavy and solid.
“Take it in. Stick it in the freezer for me.” I just look at him, waiting for an answer.
“What,” he groans, rubbing at his beard. He can’t just chuck a bag at me and tell me to put it in a freezer.
“Please,” he says, this time in a gentler voice. That’s better. By the time I leave here, he’ll at least have some basic manners.
Walking into the house, I have to peek. It’s impossible not to. It’s a bunch of cash, stacked neatly together. My heart tumbles from my chest to my stomach. Where’d he get this? Shit.
Shoving the bag inside of the fridge, I take off down the hall and head into my impromptu bedroom.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Scooting my ass up next to the bed, I fish a hand around, digging for my box. My heart beats anxiously and my hand searches frantically for something that’s not there now. Fuck, it was here last night.
Leaning down, I lift up the sheets and look.
“Night, Buck.”
Soft rays peek through the tall Pine trees throwing shadows on the wood deck at my feet the next afternoon. The light rustle of trees in the wind fights to be heard over the rush of the river. It’s a forest musical.
Leaning my back against the cedar siding of the house, I stretch my legs out in front of me. My toes meet the end of the wood deck, finding the soft warm rays casting there, instantly heating them up.
It’s heaven here. There’s nothing up here but wilderness. No humans, no homes, no stores, nothing. I know why Buck picked this spot.
I’ve spent the last week up here alone, most of the time. Eight days with a lot of time on my hands. I’m okay with it though. I’ve wandered, I’ve read, I’ve napped, and I’ve relaxed.
I woke up alone. The house was empty and void of any trace of Buck. I have no idea where he went and when he’ll be back. It’s nothing new. I’m always alone, even when he’s here.
One hour and countless chapters later, the growl of engines cut through the quiet. Bill jumps off the deck, barking and howling down the driveway. What the hell? Sitting up, I crane my neck to see a white van coming through the trees, crawling up the gravel road towards me.
I instantly feel sick. Whipping my head from side to side, I start to plan my escape. My nerves shoot through the roof and my heart is in my throat. Taking a few steps back towards the door, the roar of bikes drown out the van.
Staring wide-eyed at the driveway, I watch the van drive on by, past the shop and disappear into the woods with two bikes on its tail. Buck rolls to a stop in front of me while the other bike keeps going. It’s definitely not the bike, nor the white van, that has me wide-eyed now. No, it’s the ski mask covering Buck’s face that has me staring. What the shit?
Straddling his bike, Buck stares at me through the small cutout in the ski mask. The growl of the engine is drowning out to soft sounds of the forest, making it a hell of a lot less peaceful than it was three minutes ago. What the hell is going on?
Gesturing to his face, I mouth, “What is that?” Why the hell is he riding around with a damn ski mask on? Cutting the engine, Buck throws his leg over his matte black bike, which is damn near as sexy as he is, and tears the mask up over his face.
“Yo,” he grunts, jerking his chin in a gruff greeting. Twisting my hand in the air, I give a quick wave and throw my own confused “Yo,” back at him.
Bending down, he sticks a hand in the bag on the side of his bike. Digging around in his saddlebag, he rips out a brown paper sack and chucks it at me with no warning. The crumbled bag sails through the air and lands at me feet.
“Nice catch,” he says around a chuckle.
“Never claimed to be a catcher,” I smart back as I bend down to pick the bag up.
Holding the worn-out and wrinkled bag, I stare at Buck in pure confusion. “What is this?” It’s somewhat heavy and solid.
“Take it in. Stick it in the freezer for me.” I just look at him, waiting for an answer.
“What,” he groans, rubbing at his beard. He can’t just chuck a bag at me and tell me to put it in a freezer.
“Please,” he says, this time in a gentler voice. That’s better. By the time I leave here, he’ll at least have some basic manners.
Walking into the house, I have to peek. It’s impossible not to. It’s a bunch of cash, stacked neatly together. My heart tumbles from my chest to my stomach. Where’d he get this? Shit.
Shoving the bag inside of the fridge, I take off down the hall and head into my impromptu bedroom.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Scooting my ass up next to the bed, I fish a hand around, digging for my box. My heart beats anxiously and my hand searches frantically for something that’s not there now. Fuck, it was here last night.
Leaning down, I lift up the sheets and look.
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