7. Enormous Danger

7

Enormous Danger

" W hat the hell are you doing out here?" I hear his deep voice before I can see him, but the rain continues to clear, and the man gets closer, allowing me to make out his features.

"Hello? Do you have a death wish? What are you doing here?" He's right in front of me, staring me down with eyes so dark they're like black holes sucking me in.

I can't find the words to respond; they're stuck at the back of my throat.

The enormous stranger towers over me. His jet-black hair is slicked back, and water drips from his angular features. God, he's the most devastating man I've ever seen. A rush of energy zips through my veins, and my skin suddenly feels too tight for my body. I place my hand over my chest, wondering if this must be what it's like to come down from adrenaline.

"Hello! Earth to the dumb girl alone in the woods! Do you hear me?"

Apparently, he's an enormous asshole. Figures, the hot ones always are.

I snap out of my daze. "Yes, I can hear you! What am I doing here? I have the same right to be here as you. I could ask you the same question."

He stands steps away from me, and his eyes lock on mine. His pupils dilate, his nostrils expand, and his chest heaves as if not only am I an annoyance but also the most disgusting thing he's ever smelt. He chuckles and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before turning his head and taking a deep breath. Why is he acting like this conversation is torture? I'm the one who's getting berated.

"It's my job to be out here. I'm the park ranger. Now, what are you doing here?" This time, his tone isn't as harsh.

"You're a park ranger?" He doesn't look like any park ranger I've ever seen. I examine him from head to toe. He's wearing a white t-shirt, completely see-through, revealing his chiseled chest and stomach, and black jeans—not exactly what I would think the uniform would be for a National Park Ranger.

He must catch me staring because he spins around and faces me with his arms outstretched. "Did you get a good enough look?"

God, he's an asshole. "You just do not look like a park ranger."

He smacks his lips and gives an agitated laugh. "And now tell me, what do park rangers look like?"

I stutter. "I don't know. Looser, non-see-through clothes, maybe a badge, a dorky hat."

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you with my attire, but I'm not sure you have any room to judge." He motions his gaze down to my chest.

I look down at my white tank top, completely soaked and revealing my lacy black bra. "Excuse me!" I yell in horror as I wrap my arms around my chest.

"I'm just pointing out the hypocrisy in your slut shaming." He pulls a carton from his pocket and brings a cigarette to his lips. The rain has completely stopped, allowing him to light it, even as water drips from his forehead. "Now, to direct you back to my initial question. Why the hell are you out here in a storm? Didn't you hear about the attacks that happened out here? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Do I need to call a suicide hotline?"

"Actually, that's why I'm here! I work for the New York Times, and I'm here to investigate the attacks."

He gives a disgusted chuckle. "Oh, figures. I knew I could smell a vulture. Can't you just let the families heal in peace? Why must you dig your nose where it doesn't belong?"

I've never condoned violence, but right now, I could ruin this guy's pretty little face. I'm surprised he's managed to keep it intact with a mouth like that.

"Look, I'm not here telling you that you shouldn't be doing your job. Besides, people need to be aware of the truth. The truth makes people safe. You know damn well there's nothing normal about those attacks, and it's becoming more and more apparent to me that something is going on here."

He's silent for a moment, which is surprising since he hasn't stopped berating me in the last five minutes since I've met him.

"You're wrong," he finally says.

"Oh, I am?"

"Yes. You said you're not telling me I shouldn't be doing my job when, in fact, you are here arguing with me instead of leaving like I asked. "

"You never asked me to leave! You just asked me why I was here."

He scoffs. "You know what? You're right. I apologize. Please get the hell out of here. Thank you." He smiles at me, and I have to stop myself from slamming my fist into those pearly whites. God, his smile is like something from a toothpaste commercial.

"Fine. I'm leaving, but I will be back." I walk toward the edge of the clearing and fish around in my pockets for my keys. I stop in my tracks. "Shit." It starts raining again as if God is playing some cruel joke on me.

"What?"

I turn back to him, surprised that he's still standing in the spot I left him in.

"Nothing." I look around on the ground and trail back to where I examined the footprint. "It's just… my keys."

He laughs. "Of course, you lost your keys."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I whip around, my soaking wet red hair slapping me in the face.

"I've just known you for five minutes and can already read you like a book."

I drop my hands, feeling utterly defeated. "What is your problem? I don't even know you. Why are you being so mean?" Tears push at my eye ducts, and I turn around before he can see my tears. I'm not usually the type to get emotional, but this whole day has been a whirl of emotions. Between thinking I'm going to be eaten alive to being completely disappointed in men—I can't take it anymore.

He sighs and remains silent for a moment. He must notice I'm crumbling because his tone softens. "Look, I'm sorry, okay. I don't deal with people often, and you almost got hurt, and I don't like when people get hurt in my woods."

I breathe in, trying to stall my tears. I must admit, his half-assed apology softens the sting of the day just a tiny bit.

The rain pelts harder.

"You're not going to find your keys in this weather. Why don't you just come back to my place, and you can call someone to pick you up?"

"No thanks." I continue my search on the ground. I'm already dirty and completely soaked. Why worry about the rain?

Lightning cracks overhead.

Great.

I stand up and sigh. "Fine, but just to let you know, I am experienced in Krav Maga. Try anything, and I'll kick your ass."

He gives a genuine chuckle, and honestly, it lightens my sour mood a little more. "I don't doubt you will."

He leads me down a trail through the woods.

And for some asinine reason, I follow.