Page 37 of Speak No Claim

Onyx

The smoke caught my attention from my bedroom window before the fire did. Thin layers curled around our tree line against the evening sky. It was impossible to miss. Someone had built a fire, and I didn’t have to wonder who the hell that was.

I grabbed my crossbow without thinking. I was the captain of our university team. I had perfected its use by the time I was eight. It was in my bloodline. Around here, walking into the woods unarmed was unheard of. It was a death wish, especially at night.

On my way out of the garage, I grabbed the keys to the golf cart, not bothering with walking. It was safer this way.

The path grew darker the farther I drove in, the golf cart bouncing over the ground, until, out of nowhere, I heard music. I killed the engine, not wanting to be heard. Grabbing the crossbow and flashlight, I made my way toward it.

I knew the woods better than I’d known most people. The beats led me the rest of the way. Branches brushed my shoulders as I silently made my way through the trees, not wanting to make a sound and startle whatever she was doing.

I saw the fire first, then I saw her. She was barefoot, dressed in clingy white clothes. Her shorts barely covered her ass cheeks, riding up higher with every sway of her round hips. Her top had also risen, showing off all of her stomach and the bottom of her tits.

She had no idea she looked like that, which made her extremely dangerous to a man like me.

Her long, curly hair was framing her face wildly. I’d been in ballroom galas, debutantes, charity performances, and strip clubs, but I’d never seen anyone dance like that.

Dance like her.

I’d never even heard this song. I stood there, hiding behind the trees, watching her with curiosity as she whipped her body around in perfect symmetry. It was such a sensual dance that I couldn’t look away from her, not even for a second.

She was no longer in my Connecticut woods, but more like she brought her Amazon with her. I should’ve walked away. Instead, I watched her for longer than I should have, utterly captivated by the woman who was sinfully dancing only for me. I was never meant to see her, yet you couldn’t pull me away from her.

For as long as the dance lasted, I allowed myself to get lost in her, forgetting why I’d come out there to begin with. I didn’t check the clearing like I normally would out here in the darkness. That was my first mistake.

The second was letting myself get consumed by her, when all she was doing was dancing. That mistake nearly got her killed. The silence hit me first. It wasn’t loud; it never was. Not unless it was coming out of my own mind like a fucking lunatic.

Once the silence hit me. there were no birds, no insects, no noise other than quiet stillness… I fucking knew. My gaze swept the clearing the way it should have the moment she came into sight.

Fuck…

The copperhead rested perfectly among the grass, near the bushes. It was when she finally noticed what was a few feet in front of her. In seconds, it struck her, and I didn’t hesitate.

I lifted my crossbow, and my voice cut through the clearing, ordering her to move.

She tensed, but didn’t move an inch. “Don’t,” she replied.

“Hennessy…” I coaxed, trying to control my temper. “Move, or it’s going to try to bite you again.”

My crossbow stayed trained on my target.

“That’s only if you give it a reason to.” She didn’t look at me. “It’s just a copperhead.” Her tone was calm. “So stop pointing that crossbow at him.”

Him? Is she out of her fucking mind?

“Just?” I stressed.

In a casual tone, she remarked, “I’m used to dealing with anacondas.”

Every instinct inside me screamed to pull the trigger anyway. She took one careful step toward the snake, and I tightened my grip.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

She didn’t pay me any mind. Slowly, she deliberately searched the ground beside her until she found a long-forked branch.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I demanded, knowing where she was going with this.

She faintly smiled, never taking her eyes off the copperhead. “I was taught to respect all living things in their own territory and to be grateful when they allow me to step into it.”