The Meadow Snare Ch. 02

"Alright, Genevieve, it's time to head back to camp. Don't try anything funny." Jason turned to me, and I nodded, completely resigned to my fate of complying to the sadist's demands.

Jason and Chris went ahead, following the winding mountain trail back to our camp site, while Bryan was told to escort me since I was moving too slow for their tastes. I was having a lot of trouble just slowly walking along the path, and Jason held my hand to steady me.

The boys were far ahead now, and I squeezed Bryan's hand, which made my hand look tiny. He said nothing for a while, and I focused on the path. Just limping along was bringing tears to my eyes, but I had to get back one way or another.

For a long while, I hobbled along like that, gritting my teeth, squeezing Bryan's strong hand, grateful to be away from the accursed clearing. I tried to focus on the birds' songs, the crickets, the crunch of twigs underfoot, but the pain was too distracting. I was weeping for the agony when I halted. Bryan gently tugged on my arm, but I begged him.

"Please," Tears were running into my open mouth. "I need to rest. It hurts, so bad, Jesus." I whined, half-expecting my request to be met with some measure of violence or ridicule. Instead, Bryan stopped.

"Okay. Let's rest a few minutes," He took a glance around. "Sit." He gestured to a small moss-covered boulder a few meters off the path. I obeyed, carefully, and whimpered from the bruises as I sat down. But sitting still felt much better than walking. Bryan dug around in his cargo pants for something.

"Here," he handed me a flask, "I don't have any Tylenol, but that should help." He knelt beside me, resting a hand softly on my thigh. His touch sent a shiver up my spine. I knocked back the flask, drinking the whiskey like water. Of course, it burned, but I needed a good drink. I downed the entire flask right there, and Bryan just watched me, his grey eyes full of pity. When I drained it, he stuffed it back into his pocket. "That'll have you feeling better in no time!" He smiled at me. I hesitated a moment, then, emboldened by the warmth in my chest, held his hand against my thigh.

"Let's hope so." I laughed through my tears. "Thank-you." I squeezed his hand, spurred by his touch, and gazed into his eyes. He was sad.

"Genevieve-" He started, but I leaned over without warning, and kissed the man, who had been my rapist, on the lips. He did not protest. At first, he just passively accepted the kiss, but as my lips massaged his, he began to kiss back.

I parted my lips, ever so slightly, and his tongue tenderly entered my mouth. I moaned, enraptured by the longing my entire body felt for this man. I caressed his tongue with my own, ran my hand through his greasy brown hair, swept my fingers down his beard. He ran his fingers through my own messy hair, rubbed my back, and moaned for me. I felt him, rising at the thought of me, and in that moment as he held me, the horrid experiences were gone, replaced by a sensation of pure ecstasy. As our tongues danced together, I felt that I could've done it forever.

But then he slowly pulled himself away. I whimpered, hoping he would take me back into his arms once more.

"Sorry...We," He paused. "We have to talk."

I nodded, still tingling from the magical kiss, and starting to notice a buzz from the liquor.

"Jenny, I'm sorry." He crouched before my rock-perch, and held me at arm's length, his eyes telling me that he was sorry. I reached out and put my finger across his lips.

"Shhh." I mustered a faint smile. "It was Jason, I know." I knew that wasn't true, that there was no excuse for the violence that this man had actively participated in, but deep down inside, my heart stirred for him. His forehead was creased with lines of painful remorse.

"My god, I just-" He began, but I shook my head fervently, silencing him.

"Please, let's forget about that. Right now, I need you to get me out of here." I was surprised by the confidence in my voice.

Bryan gazed down the path where Chris and Jason were far ahead of us, and rubbed his temples in thought. Finally, he spoke.

"We could try to head them off. There's a short-cut to the camp road. But we'd have to go much faster."

I groaned, because even though the whiskey was dulling the pain, I knew that running would be far too agonising. I shook my head. "I can't. It hurts way too much."

But Bryan wasn't listening. He stood up, then in one quick motion, he bent down and scooped me up into his arms. I protested, but he just began walking briskly back down the trail in the direction we had come from.

"Jenny, you're so light," He chuckled. The jolt from each step was jarring, but it definitely beat walking. The position would normally have been rather uncomfortable, but the drink shielded me from that, and I began to drift off, even as we jostled down the mountain path. "Where do you want me to take you?" He spoke after a while, panting but still moving fast. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"

"No!" I cried, then realising that I had overreacted a bit, "No, I just want to get to a motel. God, somewhere with a fucking shower."

"We'll get you to a motel, then." I mumbled something, then drifted off into a drink-induced slumber while Bryan carried me away.