Page 10 of Stranded
Fuck, I could have lost him.
“Let’s go back to the RV. We’ll head out first thing tomorrow.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
A loud explosion shook the ground under our feet. What the fuck was that?
“Oh my god! The RV!”
I spun around, Aiden still clinging to me. The RV was on fire. How the hell had that happened?
“Aiden, get down.”
He hopped down. I ran toward the RV, but he grabbed my arm.
“No! It’s useless.”
“Everything we own is in there!”
The fire was rapidly spreading, but I had to save something. Our devices were inside. Our food. With the RV up in flames, we were already at a disadvantage with nothing but our feet for transportation. In a fucking desert.
I shook Aiden’s arm off and ran toward the vehicle. An angry boom splintered the windows. The force of power behind it lifted me off my feet and slammed me into the ground. Blackness threatened to engulf me.
A ringing in my ear had me shaking my head. The wilderness transformed into heavy, oppressive air. All around me, men were running, shouting as explosions and gunfire erupted around us.
No, this isn’t the present. This isn’t now.
But I couldn’t keep the memories at bay. Flashbacks from that day swept into my head as I struggled to get up from theground: gunfire, screams from injured comrades I needed to reach… to save. But my right side was on fire.
With a hoarse cry, I beat at the flames while the world around me turned black.
As consciousness slowly returned,I found myself lying on the ground, disoriented and groggy. My throat felt raw, as if I had been screaming. My vision cleared, and Aiden’s face materialized. His eyes were red-rimmed and filled with worry. Soot streaked his cheeks. My gun was in his small, trembling hands.
“Jackson!” Aiden cried, relief clear in his voice. “You’re awake!”
I struggled to sit up, but pain shot through my side. I looked around, trying to make sense of our surroundings. In the distance, the RV, no longer on fire, was charred and covered with dirt.
“What happened?” I rasped, my voice hoarse. “How did I get all the way over here?”
“I had to drag you.” He sniffled. “I was afraid the fire would spread. When you wouldn’t wake up, I didn’t know what to do.”
A mix of emotions—gratitude, pride, and a tinge of guilt—overwhelmed me for exposing my stepson to such danger. But in that moment, as I spotted the determination and bravery in his eyes, immense pride swelled inside me.
“And the RV? The fire’s out. You put it out?”
He nodded. “With dirt. It was the only thing there’s plenty of in this godforsaken desert.”
“You remembered?”
We’d been camping when he was fourteen. I’d turned my back for a second, only for him to come running. He’d pulled a stick out, and it’d fallen on a dry bush. That day, I’d taught him that when no water was available, sand or dirt could put out a fire.
I’d never thought he would remember such details.
Aiden nodded. “I never forget what you tell me.”
Including all the horrible things I’d said to him to push him away, convincing myself that loathing him was better than wanting him because what did it say about me that I couldn’t get my stepson out of my mind? That I had intense, carnal thoughts about him?
