Page 13 of Speak No Claim

Nine words that held a lot of meaning. It was an order, not a request. Still, nothing from me. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I’d rather this be your decision,” he insisted. “I’d enjoy the alternative far more than you would.”

He paused like he was waiting for me to come to my senses.

When I didn’t move, his voice softened in a way that felt more dangerous. “Now be a good girl, and I’ll reward you. Unless, of course, you want me to come get you. Seeing as it’s only a matter of time before you’re screaming my name anyway.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Ni cagando!” which translated to, “No fucking way.”

I heard him chuckle. “Good. I would’ve been disappointed had you chosen the other way.”

When his footsteps suddenly retreated, I listened until I couldn’t hear him anymore. He definitely wouldn’t have left that easily. He was up to something, probably following through on his threat. He was about to learn I wasn’t scared of him. I wasn’t scared of anyone.

The silence didn’t last nearly long enough. Wood scraped against stone, and metal clanged somewhere in the distance among the forest. He was loud now. The sounds that followed were heavy, dragging through the underbrush.

I frowned despite myself. Minutes later, he reappeared with a bright lantern, guiding him through the trees. He dragged an old metal ladder that looked like it weighed two hundred pounds, hauling it effortlessly as though he’d been trained to.

I bit, “What are you doing?”

Without an ounce of remorse or shame, he spewed, “Collecting you.”

“The hell you are!” I held back a curse. “You need to go!”

He laid the ladder against the tree. “I gave you a choice.” The ladder juddered beneath the weight of his body.

My eyes widened when I realized he was following through, coming to snatch me out of this tree.

“So now we do this my way.”

Carajo… I thought. Shit.

Never taking his eyes off where he placed his hands, he climbed until the ladder couldn’t take him farther, stopping several feet below my branch. Pulling himself onto one of the branches, he flowed with natural precision, like he’d been climbing trees long before he feared falling, just like me. He only stopped once he was a branch below mine.

His hoodie was pulled over his head, and I couldn’t see much of his face. The same way I hadn’t when we were in the foyer earlier.

His breathing may have been ragged. I hoped his lungs burned, but he looked calm and composed, freaking me the hell out. He climbed this tree far too easily. He was experienced.

Why?

Spiteful, I snapped, “I would’ve chosen the bear.”

A ghost of a smile threatened the corner of his mouth, though it disappeared before it ever truly formed. He didn’t bother hiding the flicker of amusement that spread across his face as he taunted, “Who says you didn’t?”

My heart stuttered, searching his shadowed expression for any trace that he was joking. I didn’t find one.

“You’re insane,” I simply stated.

“Sanity is overrated.”

“You think you’re a bear?” I challenged, not backing down.

He tilted his head. “No.”

I pressed, “Then what are you?”

He didn’t answer, watching me instead.

I hated how long it took before he finally argued, “Wrong question. Now ask me the right one.”