Stranded with My Stepbrother

Chapter 22

“I wish they’d start sawing again,” Jocelyn muttered, cutting me off a hunk of bread and handing me a water bottle.

The bread turned out to be a sweet bread and really good. We finished off the loaf, sitting on a blanket I spread on the floor and swigging water.

I laid down after we’d set the bottles aside and motioned for Jocelyn to lay with me. She pillowed her head on my bicep and snuggled into me, her arm across my stomach. I played idly with her braid, thinking of what we could possibly do next to aid in our escape.

Jocelyn, thank God, drifted off into a light sleep. I kissed her forehead, wracking my brain for some way to protect her. To get her out of here.

I must not have noticed myself drifting off as well, because the next thing I knew, the door was rattling and my eyes were flying open. I quickly grabbed another blanket and wrapped it around Jocelyn, who came awake with a start.

“Shh,” I whispered, looking at the long shadows of light along the floor. Hours had passed. Had they found Bill?

Girard poked his head in the shed, took a look around, and chuckled. “Made yourselves right at home, I see.”

“Please, let us go,” Jocelyn said, tucking the blanket high up under her chin to hide her mostly-naked body.

“Well, about that. My men just radioed me with some interesting news. Seems old Bill is sitting in the forest, not far from his cabin, with his head bashed in. Now, I know it was a bit early for moose-hunting season, but I don’t think the Canadian Forest Service is giving out corporal punishment for breaking that law.” Girard raised an eyebrow at us. “Care to explain?”

“We don’t know this Bill person,” Jocelyn replied quickly, while I just kept my mouth shut.

“Really? Because there were bare footprints and some woman’s size boot prints near his body,” Girard pressed. “Care to revise that lie of yours?”

Jocelyn squished closer to me, practically mummified in the blanket, and gave Girard a harsh look. “What are you, CSIs now?”

Girard stepped into the shed, his gaze cold. I looked past him. There were at least five men behind him, looking equally stoic. “Bill was a friend.”

“Bill was a pervert!” Jocelyn insisted. She struggled her arms out of the blanket and grabbed for me when I stood to face Girard down.

“I killed him.” I let the truth marinate around him for a while, then continued, “He was trying to hurt my stepsister.”

“Ah.” Girard gave Jocelyn a long once-over. “Well, can’t blame the man. That body’s made for sin.”

Jocelyn pulled the blanket back up to cover herself.

“I don’t care what you think her body’s made for. She’s my stepsister, and I won’t have ANYONE messing with her,” I said. I wasn’t going down without a fight. If it came to it, I was taking some of these bastards with me if they decided to go for Jocelyn. Or I’d die trying.

Girard chuckled. “Oh, you’ve been a very bad boy, Caleb.”

“So now you know I murdered somebody and we know about your logging operation. Does that make us even enough for you to let us go?” I demanded.

Girard stroked his chin. “I’ll have to think about that.” He walked back toward the door, then turned around and winked. “Don’t go anywhere.”

His laughter carried through the ill-fitted boards as the door slammed behind him.

-Jacey-

In the last light of the day, Caleb and I ransacked the clothes in the shed, finally finding pants and shirts that fit both of us. There were even socks, and a pair of boots for Caleb. Unfortunately, none of the steel-toed boots in the shed were small enough for me. I was left with my rubber, knee-high waders.

The pants were also far too long on me, so I tucked them inside my wading boots. I had found a T-shirt that fit me, though it was tight over the chest, and a flannel button-down to go over it.

Caleb was dressed similarly, only his button-down was blue instead of red.

When night fully fell, Caleb and I moved to the back of the shed. Caleb put a blanket up against the back wall, and we started kicking the boards, letting the quilt muffle our efforts.