Page 23 of Redwood Blaze
The protein bar I had for lunch makes a quick return trip and I’m running for a trashcan. I gargle with a drink out of the final bottle of water I have.
“No,” I say firmly.
“You want me to save this asshole, you’re going to agree to come with me.”
Save Callum or save myself?
“Fine. I need you, Gideon.”
To leave me alone.
There’s a long pause. Probably distracted by his own image in the reflection of his phone screen to focus on what truly mattered. But that’s the thing about narcissists. They twist the world to their liking and expect everyone else to play along.
“Millicent, come on. You know I hate when you don’t play nice,” his voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp and demanding. I can almost picture him, leaning back against a tree like he has all the time in the world, a wicked grin plastered on his face, waiting for me to crumble under what he thinks is his power.
The sound of crackling wood makes my heart race— another tree succumbing to the flames, another piece of this forest dying while he toys with my emotions.
“No. I’m not gonna say it nicer. You know this isn't about you.” I grip the phone tighter, trying to give my words with the strength I can’t quite feel.
“Sure it is, babe,” he chuckles, the condescension dripping from his voice like thick honey. “We always make it about me. Isn’t that the game we play? Just admit it.”
In the distance, smoke billows into the sky, a dark omen against the bright blue. I can’t help but think how fitting it is, how the fire is a mirror of our own relationship— intense and destructive.
But it’s burnt out. Charcoal ruins.
“If you want me to say anything, you have to earn it, Gideon. Prove you can handle whatever mess you’ve made.” The words spill out of me faster than I can catch them, fueled by anger and a desperate wish for autonomy.
A silence hangs, heavy and weighted. I wonder if he’s frowning, his self-assured mask slipping.
“Prove? Please. You think it’s so simple? You should know by now, you’re the only one I keep coming back to.”
“Because I’m the only one you haven’t broken completely,” I mutter under my breath, my skin prickling with the truth of it.
He laughs again, but it’s hollow. “Words, Millicent, just words. Now, you can do better. Try it again. Say it the way I like it.”
Only he ever dared to use my real name. He was known for making fun of people and their names, and I endured constant ribbing. The worst thing I ever did was to show him that it got under my skin.
“Shit!” I hear a familiar crackle through the phone of a tree top crashing to the ground. “Fuckin’ fire.”
He was never made out for the job. He was too self-centered. Too thin-skinned.
“Where is he?” I scream in the phone.
“See, now you’ve gone and done it. Tell me where you are, or ginger-boy gets toasted like a marshmallow.”
“Fuck you, Gideon! You’re going back to jail!”
I step outside and into the phone I hear a blow horn go off.
Shit.
“Ahhh, you’re not more than two miles away. And I would say to the west since the fire’s moving east.”
“One that you set.”
His response is only a chuckle and, “One that will flush you out.”
I have to leave now. He’ll hunt me down. It’s time to run.
