Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 16116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 64(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
"Emma Carter?" asks the taller one, checking a photo on his phone.
My stomach drops. "Yes?"
"Bill?" Wyatt appears behind me, his hand coming to rest protectively on my shoulder. "Richard? What's going on?"
The rangers exchange uncomfortable glances.
"Hey, Wyatt," says the one called Bill. "Wish this was a social call."
Before either can elaborate, the rumble of an approaching vehicle cuts through the morning quiet. A truck pulls up beside the rangers' vehicle, and my blood turns to ice as my parents step out.
"Emma!" My mother rushes forward, her face a mask of panic and relief. "Oh my God, it's really you. You're alive!"
My father follows more slowly, his eyes taking in everything—my state of undress, Wyatt's protective stance, the cabin behind us.
"What is this?" I ask, my voice barely audible.
Richard, the shorter ranger, clears his throat. "Your parents filed a missing person report three days ago when you didn't return to campus. Your phone pinged near this area before going offline."
"We've been looking for you, sweetheart," my mother says, reaching for me. I step back instinctively, bumping into Wyatt's solid chest. "When your roommate said you'd gone hiking and never came back—"
"I've been perfectly fine," I say, fighting to keep my voice steady. "I got lost, panicked, and Wyatt helped me."
My father's gaze hardens as he looks at Wyatt. "And you just kept her here for nine days without letting her contact anyone?"
Wyatt's hand tightens slightly on my shoulder. "Emma has been free to leave whenever she wanted. I offered to take her back to town the first morning."
"He did," I say quickly. "I chose to stay."
My mother's eyes widen in horror. "Emma, look at yourself! This man is … he's—"
She gestures helplessly at Wyatt, at his size, his beard, the scar on his face.
"He's scary, honey. Did he threaten you? Make you stay? Did he force himself on you? It's okay. You can tell us."
The accusation ignites something fierce inside me. "No! Wyatt helped me when I was lost and terrified. He's been nothing but kind and respectful."
"Kind?" My father's voice rises. "You've been missing for over a week! We thought you were dead! Or kidnapped!"
"I'm an adult," I say, straightening my spine. "I chose to stay."
Bill shifts uncomfortably. "Wyatt, it's fine. I know you wouldn't—"
"You don't know what he would do." My mother glares at him. "You don't know what he's done to my daughter."
"He hasn't done anything to me!" My voice cracks with emotion.
"I love him!"
The words hang in the air, shocking even me. I've never said them aloud before, never even fully acknowledged them in my own mind until this moment.
Richard and Bill exchange looks.
"Look," Richard says gently, "nobody's accusing anyone of anything. But Emma, your parents have been worried sick. There's been search parties out looking for you."
Guilt washes over me. In my bubble of happiness with Wyatt, I hadn't considered what my disappearance might look like to others.
"I'm sorry," I say, glancing at my parents. "I should have called. My phone died, and I-I lost track of time."
My mother's face softens slightly. "Just come home, sweetheart. Whatever's happening here, we can sort it out later."
I feel Wyatt's body tense behind me. We were just talking about our future together a few minutes ago.
"I'd like a moment alone with Emma," he says, his voice carefully controlled.
My father jabs an accusing finger at him. "Absolutely not."
Bill steps forward. "Mr. Carter, why don't we give them two minutes? We'll be right here."
"Out of the question. Emma, get your things. We're leaving."
I turn to face Wyatt, my back to everyone else. His blue eyes are storm-dark with emotion.
"I'm so sorry for this mess," I whisper, low enough that only he can hear. "I don't want to go.” We step back a little further, inside the doorway.
Wyatt’s jaw tightens. "If you leave with them now, accusing me of nothing, it will blow over. If you stay..." He swallows hard. "They could make trouble. Charges. Kidnapping. I don't give a damn what it will do to me, but it will disrupt your life. You're so close to graduating. You don't need additional stress."
Horror washes through me because God, I didn't think that far ahead. "You didn't kidnap me!”
"They don't know that." He touches my cheek briefly and smiles sadly. "Go with them, baby. Protect yourself."
Tears burn in my eyes. "Protect you, you mean."
The smallest nod. "I'll be fine, and I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Emma, now!" My father's voice cuts through our whispered exchange.
I reach up, touching Wyatt's face one last time. "I'll come back."
He smiles again, but it's not the smile I've grown to love. It's the kind of smile that says, 'I don't believe you, but whatever you say.' It's the kind of smile that says goodbye.
Turning away from him feels like tearing out a vital organ. I walk stiffly back inside, gathering my camera bag and my backpack. When I emerge, Wyatt has stepped back outside onto the porch, waiting for me, but his face is stern – an expressionless mask.