Follow the River

“I know, Coach. Don’t forget I’ve been here a time or two,” River grins.

Yeah, we get it, River. You’re in tight with Coach Scott, NFL superstar, and his kid. No need to rub it in more.

“And so then you know the way back? It’s been a few years since you guys have been out here.” Coach raises his brow, questioning Len.

River smirks and shakes his head, which only makes Coach chuckle in return, both of them clearly in on the inside joke I’m not privy to.

“Someone want to enlighten me, so I don’t get fucking lost in the middle of the mountains if I decide to take a nice stroll…and don’t end up throwing myself over a cliff?”

Sounds pretty fucking good right now. Actually scratch that and point me to the nearest death drop, thanks.

Coach shakes his head and glances at River. “When these guys used to come out here with us when they were younger, since maybe about ten, they’ve been exploring these woods. They know them like the back of their hands now. But the first time we let them wander a little too far out of our eyesight, they were lost for almost two hours.”

River laughs at that. “I still am convinced I knew where we were the entire time, but your son was convinced we were going the right way until I managed to convince him otherwise.”

My brow quirks. “And this has fuckall to do with finding my way back to the cabin…how?”

River rolls his eyes. “Because dumbass, you just have to use common sense.”

Coach’s eyes snap between us. “You two going to be okay up here for this long of a time? I don’t really feel like walking in on a bloody crime scene in January when I’m back to pick you idiots up.”

“You wouldn’t have that problem if you didn’t force us to come here in the first place,” I growl, unamused. “Just tell me how to get out of the damn woods if I have trouble.”

Coach sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Look, Grady, it’s simple. If you think you’re lost, just follow the river.”

Follow River. Is he fucking serious?

My eyes shoot between them, a

River rolls his eyes before pushing off the railing of the deck. “He said the river. Not me, River.” His gaze shoots passed me to look at Coach. “Although I stand by the fact that if Taylor would have followed me that day, I’m sure we would have been back a lot sooner.”

Coach shakes his head and lets out a deep laugh. “We can definitely go with your story, but don’t tell my son that. It would bruise his ego since he never picked up a sense of direction for being a born and raised mountain kid.”

Yanking open the door to his truck, he hops in and starts it. “Don’t kill each other, please. I don’t want to have to explain it to your parents.”

Don’t have to worry about that one, Coach. Doubt they’d give two shits either way.

We watch from the deck as his truck disappears over the bridge of the stream and into the forest on the other side, back to civilization.

Since I don’t particularly want to sit outside freezing my ass off and I’m definitely not looking to sit around the fire and knit fucking sweaters with River, I head back into the cabin, finding refuge in my room.

Thankfully, River took the one diagonal from mine, so he’s as far away from me as possible without sleeping outside.

I start opening the different bins I brought with me, setting the first on my desk, and begin pulling out the supplies I need to start painting. I want to start setting up my makeshift art studio as quickly as I can, needing the small slice of freedom from my thoughts and tormentor already.

“What are the crates for? Decided to move in?” River asks from the doorway not even a minute later.

Why didn’t I think to shut and lock the fucking door?

Rolling my eyes, I slam the lid back on the one I was digging through and spin around to give him a mocking smile. “No, they’re to hide all the pieces of your dismembered body when I end up killing you before these next five weeks are over.”

His brows furrow, glancing at the five or so crates, stacked in the corner, not knowing they are filled with paint, canvas, and pads of paper, then at the one on the desk in front of me. “Okay, but we’re in the middle of the mountains with literally no one around. Why wouldn’t you just toss me out back for a mountain lion or something?”

Jesus Christ, leave it to River to think of a better way to dispose of his own dead body.

I shake my head. “I fucking can’t with you right now.”

“You never can with me, Rain, so—”

I round on him in an instant, pressing him into the doorframe with my forearm on his throat. “For what might be the thousandth time, don’t call me that,” I snap. “In fact, don’t call me anything.”

“Kinda hard when we’re stuck out here for over a month,” he gasps.

I crush my forearm against his trachea more. “No, see Le

River licks his lip, drawing my eyes down to them. And of course, he notices and smirks.

“Whatever you want. Just know these little rules aren’t going to last long or you’ll go fucking mad.” His hand wraps around my forearm, ripping it from his neck. “And honestly, baby? I think it’s cute how you think your cock won’t end up in my mouth again before this little vacation is over.”

My jaw ticks and goddamn it, it’s been ten minutes since Coach left and I’m already itching to make good on my threat to murder and dismember the asshole.

But I don’t let his taunts gain the hold he wants.

No, instead I get in his face and shove him hard out the threshold of my room, slamming the door shut and locking it for what might be the next five weeks.