Page 29 of Heart of the Sun

A small sound made my eyes fly open, and I saw Tuck, sitting up, leaned against the wide tree trunk, his knees bent, feet flat on the ground. I blinked though my vision needed little time to adjust to the brightly moonlit night as I tried to figure out what he was doing. Was he…sharpening a stick?

I leaned up on my elbow, and his head lifted. His eyes glittered in the silvery light, the angles of his face more sharply defined. A strange shiver tightened my stomach muscles. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Making a weapon.”

“A…stick?”

“A spear,” he said. “Not ideal. But better than nothing.”

I glanced around. “What are you anticipating?”

“Nothing specific at the moment but it’s always best to be prepared.”

“I guess you’re right,” I murmured. He flicked his wrist, and a small piece of wood went flying off the stick, landing somewhere next to him. “What are you using to sharpen it?”

“The knife on a wine opener,” he said. His voice was quiet, sullen.A wine opener.He must have snagged that from the plane with the other things he’d collected. We were lucky he had. Because of him we’d had water to drink and a bag of crackers each for dinner. Not exactly a feast, but better than the nothing we’d have had if we’d simply sat and watched the plane be incinerated.

“You didn’t happen to snag any wine with that opener, did you?”

“The liquor was locked up. I didn’t think it was worth breaking the glass.”

I’d put a teasing note into my tone, but Tuck had responded with flat coolness. He was obviously still angry that I’d fired him. But what choice did I have? And he was the one who had not only engaged in something criminal but had flung hurtful words at me because of my completely justified reaction. I wasn’t going to think about those words, however, because frankly, I had enough on my plate at the moment without also dwelling on Tuck’s unfair opinion. Also… I knew his words had been spoken out of anger, a reaction to being exposed. And I would give him some leeway—and try to put myself in his shoes as much as possible—because he was helping us find our way back to civilization.

I bit at my lip for a second. “Tuck…listen. I… I understand why you might have done what you did. It must be hard, not having any money. No direction…” Was that how he felt? I didn’t want to put words in his mouth, but I also wanted to let him know that despite what I had learned about him, I appreciated that he was helping us now. “But you understand why I can’t have you working for me anymore, right?”

His expression didn’t shift, but I felt the weight of his stare, and for some reason, I felt guilty. I dismissed the feeling. How many chances did one person get? I wasn’t the one who’d messed up. “Sure, Emily.”

I stared, a heavy sinking feeling in my stomach. He didn’t care at all. Who had he become?

I suddenly wondered if he’d taken a moment to hunt for those little baggies among the mess inside the plane. Were they in his duffel bag now? He’d need the money they’d bring in more than ever now, wouldn’t he? Well. That was no longer my business.

He went back to sharpening the stick, obviously not interested in any further conversation. I sighed, glancing up at the glowing orb overhead. The sky was streaked in shades of gray, from dark to platinum, and though it was somewhat eerie, it was also incredibly beautiful and made our surroundings surprisingly light. Had the moon always been this luminous? Had the city lights dimmed it so much for me in recent years? I started lying back down, but pressure on the wound on my flank almost made me yelp. I pressed my lips together to hold it back as I sat up. Tuck’s head rose, his gaze meeting mine. “I have to use the bathroom,” I squeaked, rising stiffly but quietly, careful not to wake Charlie.

I noticed Tuck’s hands halt in their task as I moved past him toward the denser section of trees and brush off to the right. “Don’t go far,” he said.

I didn’t answer. I’d go as far as I wanted. Yes, he was helping us. But he wasn’t the boss of me. Truthfully though, I had no interest in going far anyway. I was creeped out and had this odd weight sitting on my chest that felt like it was about more than just the fact that we were basically lost in the wintery wilderness. I just needed to privately investigate this wound that was getting more painful by the hour.

I stepped behind a section of brambly bushes that hid me from view and lowered my pajama bottoms and then unbuttoned my pants, hissing as I peeled them down slightly and the leather scraped over my skin. I’d stuck a pair of ankle socks in my jacket pocket to wear on my hands and I took one out and dabbed at my wound which was now oozing and angry red around the border.Great. And ick.

The edge of the seat belt had obviously sliced into me pretty deeply in this spot, but it’d also abraded and burned from my waist to halfway down my ass. I hadn’t gotten a good look at the gash as it was in a spot that was difficult to see unless I simultaneously twisted and bent. But even in this dimmer section of woods and from my awkward vantage point, it didn’t look good.And dabbing it with a sock was doing nothing except getting small fibers stuck to the open flesh.

Tears pricked my eyes, frustration and fear and sadness and a slew of other emotions hit me all at once as I stood there alone in those cold woods, uselessly attempting to treat my own wound. I straightened as I dropped the sock and brought my hands to my face, giving in to the quiet sobs that racked my body. Maybe I just needed a release. I’d been doing my best to hold my emotions at bay and do what needed to be done since the crash and they simply wouldn’t be contained any longer. The sight of that angry wound across my skin had opened the floodgates, in a sense representing some inner part of me as well. Ripped open. Exposed.

“Emily.” I jolted, letting out a tiny shriek as I dropped my hands from my face and whipped my head around. Tuck was standing behind me as though he’d materialized out of thin air. His gaze moved from my tear-streaked face down to my rear. “Are you okay?”

“Obviously not! God, you scared me! What the hell? What if I was doing my business?” I said, attempting to calm my racing heart after he’d practically given me a stroke.

He stepped forward, his jaw set. “I could hear you crying. And I could tell you were injured by the way you were moving.” He nodded toward my wound. “That doesn’t look good.”

“No kidding?” I sputtered, swiping at my tears and starting to bring my pants up. “It’s the least of my problems right now.”

“Not if it gets infected,” he said. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back with something to treat that with.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, aware that I was standing still in the woods with my pants pulled down because Tuck had told me to. But the promise of something that might lessen the pain was too tempting to pass up. Tuck was back in thirty seconds with a small first aid kit in his hands, one he’d obviously tossed in that magical duffel bag of his. He set the kit on the ground and knelt down,leaning in and examining me. “It’s not so bad you need to cry about it,” he murmured as he opened the kit and took out a few items.

“I’m not crying because I’m injured,” I snapped, annoyed by his suggestion that I was still a dramatic baby. What I’d said was honest, but I hadn’t necessarily planned on admitting it. What did I care if he thought I was crying over my injury? I didn’t want to expose myself further to someone who thought I was asellout.

Tuck leaned closer and used a cotton ball soaked in alcohol to clean my wound. I grit my teeth, squeezing my fists as he tossed one cotton ball back in the box and then soaked another.

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