Page 31 of Reckless Bonds
One hour to go. The highway disappears as we embark on long, winding roads through rural communities.
“So, how did you find me, anyway?” I ask him, realizing I’d never done so. Sunder stirs as if he’d been lost in thought, glancing at the sleeping cat in my lap.
“I’m not entirely sure. I had a dream. While it wasn’t a true Dreamshare, it had the feeling of one. I saw you in a bar I’d recently walked by in Atlanta, so I watched the area for a week before I spotted you on the street that night.”
Patches of that night are fuzzy, but I vaguely recall his face staring at me by the crosswalk.
“I don’t remember much. Did we talk?”
“You did.”
I grimace, imagining the heinous shit I must have said. To him and then later to Tim. My heart sinks recalling that terrible night. Changing the subject, I ask, “What’s a Dreamshare?”
“What it sounds like. It’s a shared dream between two people. But this was more broken and fragmented than that. Less deliberate. There were a lot of different scenes playing around me. Some from the past. Maybe some of the future. Some of you.”
“Did I at least look cute in the dream?” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
He clears his throat, before replying matter-of-factly. “You did.”
I blink in surprise, but I’ll take it. Sunder doesn’t strike me as someone that flatters others. He speaks his mind, without regard for other’s feelings. There’s some comfort in that, knowing where I stand with someone.
“I didn’t know the pull would be so strong,” Sunder says more to himself. He pauses again before turning off the music.
“I was listening to that,” I say with indignation.
“It’s not music. It’s noise and a guy with marbles in mouth wailing. Inferior hearing doesn’t lend itself to making music, and this human attempt is pathetic.” My mouth drops open at the harsh insult.
“Tell that to Beethoven. Besides, an hour ago you said you liked it. Now it’s suddenly awful?”
He just shrugs. Maybe he says stuff he doesn’t mean to flatter or endear himself to others. I’ve ignored red flags before, but I hate jumping to conclusions. What if his entire story was a lie to get me to agree to this?
What if it wasn’t?
“Well, I like it,” I say, turning it back on.
Instead of replying, wordlessly, he turns the music off again.
Anger flickers to life around my annoyance. “You know you don’t have to be such an abrasive asshole all the time, right?”
“You’ll need to learn to hold your tongue when we go through the portal. Other fae won’t tolerate a human who doesn’t know her place.”
My jaw muscles stretch as it drops open. Blinking at him, aghast. Giving myself a moment to process, I laugh at him. Red anger boils up to his cheeks, making me laugh harder. I know I shouldn’t purposely provoke him, but at least I know I can get under his skin.
“You pop into my life like, ‘Help me, Obi-Wan Miranobi. You’re my only hope.’ And then tell me to know my place? You need me way more than I need you, so maybe you should start thinking of me as an equal instead of some lesser being you’re stuck with, you selfish prick.”
My huffs of anger turn to slow, calming breaths when Sunder relents. He nods a silent agreement as pride swells inside me. I can’t believe I just stuck up for myself like that. If I wasn’t so pissed, I’d probably smile.
We drive the rest of the way in silence. The true vastness of the isolation is staggering as we follow the winding driveway for a half a mile through the thick forest. My thoughts are finally calm as we climb up the long gravel driveway to the cabin, if you can even call it that.
As it comes into view, I realize the pictures online didn’t accurately represent how small it is. It looks more like a shack. A strong wind picks up, causing the surrounding tall trees to sway deeply, the swirling leaves creating a mesmerizing pattern that puts me at ease somehow.
I’m the first to enter the tiny house. The layout is simple with typical mountain decor, wooden bear statues and hardwood throughout. The door opens across from the fridge and tiny counter space. A small sofa and a table. A ladder leads to the full-sized bed in the loft area, which is positioned above the small bathroom.
I can’t believe we’re going to spend a week together here. There’s barely enough room for one person, let alone two and a cat. Luckily, there’s a fire pit, some chairs, and a hammock outside, so we at least have somewhere to sit that isn’t in this cramped space.
“I call dibs on the bed,” I say to Sunder as he follows me inside with our bags.
“You shall not make that decision. If you don’t want to sleep next to me, then you can sleep in the hammock.”