Page 8 of Lost and Found

He holds on, the overly strong jerk, because of course he's not going to let it out of his grip until it's secured to his specifications.

"Give me my trash, you asshole," I grunt as I yank harder on the bag.

"Hold on," he growls as he yanks back. "I'm almost—"

I pull back so hard that the sleeping bag he's just stuffed so carefully into my pack pops out like a worm from one of those prank cans and smacks him right in the face.

His expression, shocked, outraged, and disgusted, is too much to handle and I bend at the waist and laugh until there are tears streaming down my face.

When I recover, I look up to find him watching me, his expression hard to gauge. Maybe annoyed? But also something else, something soft and slightly amused.

He swallows and steels his expression back to bored asshole and hands me my pack, now fully zipped, sleeping bag inside.

"I'm not going to find a bunch of tickets in here, am I? Is laughing at an officer of the park land an offense that's finable?"

He gets to his feet with a heavy sigh and heads for the trail that leads back to the trailhead. "Finable's not even a word."

I stand my ground, because he's heading in the opposite direction I need to go and I don't want to double my hike out when I'm still woozy.

He glances back, stops with a heavy sigh, and turns to face me. More than exasperation on his face, though, there's also concern. "You need me to carry you?"

"My car's not at the trailhead."

His brow crinkles and his lips purse in a way that makes him look less aquiline, more boyish. "The only way up to this campsite is from that trailhead."

"You didn't park at that trailhead or you'd already know my car's not there."

"I jogged up here from my house."

"Well, I walked here from mine. Eagle's Nest trail cuts close to this campsite, and the trailhead is less than a mile from my house."

His pursed lips get pursier, and I can see the calculations going on behind his eyes. "You live in that monstrosity off Evergreen Ridge road?"

Monstrosity, prison, nothing he calls my new home will offend me, because I hate it. Hate it so much I had to hike into the woods just to get away.

"That's the one. Honestly, this is my backyard, so it's not fair to ask me to pay the campsite fee."

He rolls his eyes. "I have to get to work sometime before the sun sets, so spare me the 'nature is free' argument, would you?" He stomps off into the woods, waving a hand over his shoulder. "I'll drive you. You can get the twenty bucks from your house, since you don't have it in that ratty backpack."

"Uh, yeah, that's not happening." I turn and start trudging through the woods toward the Eagle's Nest trail.

"Come on," he shouts behind me. "Just give me one goddamn break today, would you? Just one fucking break."

A few tree branches and a campsite are between us when I spin and face him. "I don't care what kind of badge or fancy title you have, Ranger. I don't get into trucks with strange men."

"If I laid a hand on you, I'd lose my job in a heartbeat."

I scoff, biting back a bitter laugh. "Surely you aren't that stupid. You probably have friends who are cops and judges. Not only would no one believe my version of events, I'd have my reputation ruined and would probably have to move across the country to find anyone who would hire me."

He deflates like I stuck a pin in him and stomps back across the campsite and into the woods.

I don't give him a chance to change his mind. I hurry through the underbrush to the trail.

He doesn't speak again until we're nearing the Eagle's Nest trailhead. "I'd never lay a hand on you without your permission," he says. "I know the world is fucked up right now and guys, especially men in power, get away with shit like that all the time. What I meant was that if I ever did something like that or made you uncomfortable, in any way, I'd deserve to lose my job. In a perfect world. A world where women got the respect they deserve."

I glance back over my shoulder at him, but there is no mockery in his expression. He meets my gaze, head on, sober and serious.

An odd thrill runs through me right before I trip on a tree root and hit the ground.