Page 75 of Caught in the Axe
But we kept growing closer, and it was getting increasingly harder to stand my ground. With each minute I spent with him, I cared about him more and more.
After so many years of letting life steamroll me, I’d set a boundary. Not just with him, but with myself. NYU was only a few months away, so I didn’t have to fight this too much longer.
Saturdays at Hebert Timber were quiet. Typically, Owen and I were the only ones in the building. He’d be in eventually, but I’d come early to get a run in first, hoping it would help me get my head on straight.
After our weekend in Boston, I needed to run farther and faster than usual to shake off the need to be near him. So I headed out, set on physically exhausting myself before facing him.
The Hebert Timber campus was a great spot to run. The paved roads were fairly empty, and the trails heading up through the woods were beautifully maintained. I could go down the airstrip, through the wooded paths, and come out by the lake.
I could get a little fresh air and work up a sweat, and in turn, keep my pants on around Owen.
Running used to be a punishment. I’d push myself to go farther and faster, logging every mile on my calorie app. I’d run a few half marathons, which I despised, and had usedearly training runs as an excuse to skip out on fun more times than I could count.
But it wasn’t until recently that I realized that moving my body could do more than burn calories. And that I could pick the pace that worked best for my mood and goals for the day. In Lovewell, surrounded by breathtaking scenery and serene quiet, running was a great way to get out of my own head.
These days, I rarely ran more than a few miles. I only ran when I wanted to, and I stuck to a pace that my pageant self would have considered a warm-up.
When I came to the end of the paved path, I turned and headed down toward the lake. The trees on either side of the path were just starting to bud. In no time, they’d be in full bloom. My running playlist kept me going, even as I got distracted by my surroundings. My heart lurched and I almost tripped over my feet when movement ahead of me caught my eye.
I pulled up short and froze as I took in the massive moose standing in the middle of the path about ten yards away, blocking my access to the lake.
I stumbled backward, panic rising up inside me. A lone bull moose in the woods was fucking dangerous, and this one was as big as a truck. Sure, moose weren’t uncommon, but I’d never been this close to one, and certainly never alone in the damn woods.
I gasped for breath even as I willed my heart to calm and my legs to function so I could head back up the path, hopefully without the beast noticing me.
I’d taken a single step back when he bellowed. A loud, moaning roar.
He turned enough to make the thick scar cutting across his back and hindquarters visible. Shit, it was Clive. The notorious bull who liked to wander around town wreaking havoc on its citizens.
Most moose were afraid of people and didn’t come too close to town, but not Clive. He didn’t give a shit. I’d heard stories that included him disrupting fireworks shows, crashing weddings, and stealing belongings. They were all so ridiculous it was hard to tell which were truths and which had been made up.
What I did know was that wild animals that were too comfortable around people were more dangerous.
Fuck. This moose could straight-up murder me just for crossing his path.
Okay, new plan.
Slowly back away, cut through the woods if necessary, and avoid detection.
I took a step back, then another, up the hill, sticking close to the tree line in hopes that he wouldn’t spot me.
I’d only gone a handful of feet when he grunted and swished his tail. When he turned his enormous head and pinned me with one big moosey eye, my body locked up.
Aw, fuck.
Should I run?
No. I knew better than that. I may have been gone for years, but I was a born-and-bred Mainer. Moose may look slow and lazy, but they could run thirty miles per hour and take out a truck.
This close, I couldn’t scramble up a tree fast enough to avoid him if he decided to charge, even if my upper bodystrength wasn’t shit. And out here, there weren’t any places to hide.
He made a loud, scary noise, causing me to jump and slap a hand to my chest. Fuck me. I’d rather run up a mountain in hell than tangle with Clive. He had no fear and could gore my ass with minimal effort. The grunt he let out sent snot flying from his massive nostrils, but he didn’t come closer.
He moaned again, his focus still fixed on me, as if he was telling me to get the fuck out of his yard.
I was more than happy to oblige, so I backed away slowly again, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn’t come closer.
When I made it to the bend in the path, I turned and ran like hell toward the parking lot.
