Flight Risk

Capitulo Cinco

Picture of Danny and Jake Evans ------------------------>

"I never knew you had a tattoo."

The sound of his voice so close to me, startled the crap out of me. If not for the steadying hand that shot out to pull me back to the center of the log, I would have had an up close and personal meet and greet with the forest floor that could easily be a five foot drop.

"Would it kill you to make a noise when you approach a person?" I asked as I held a hand to my racing heart.

"What's it of?" he questioned, completely undeterred by my annoyance. I watched as Sam bent down to retrieve a shiny object, which turned out to be my bracelet. He leaned onto the log and studied the engravings on my bangle before looking me in the eyes. "You never answered my question," his eyebrows were raised in question and his head jerked slightly toward the wrist that lay on my stomach.

"It's a butterfly on a rose," I responded quietly, "my two favorite things back in high school. I got it in her honor."

"Rosie was lucky to have you as a sister," he said equally as quiet.

Up until then, I had resumed watching the fluffy white masses form and reform themselves in the sky, but his comment caused me to automatically return the gaze I had felt studying me. His blue eyes were like the sky on a stormy afternoon; blue with just a hint of grey, and in my opinion, they were his best feature. The shade was constantly changing with his moods and his wardrobe.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out forlornly.

"For?" he replied obviously not following my train of thought.

"Your dad. I mean he was in the car with my family when they...you know."

"What are you sorry for? It's not like it was your fault, and if anyone should be feeling sorry for the other, it should be me feeling sorry for you."

"But my dad-"

"If you seriously think I'm going to blame you or your parents for giving my dad a ride into town after he got a flat tire with no spare, your opinion of me must be insanely low. Your parents were good people; people that deserved my respect in both life and death."

Had I been asked to describe the relief I felt when he said those words, I'd say it was like one of the invisible weights that kept me grounded in the past had been removed. Part of me recognized the irrationality of my fear that part of Sam would hate me and my family for having a hand in his father's death, but the other part had clung to the idea like a zealot to the ideals of their religion.

"Come on, we should probably head back," he said, holding out a hand to help me down.

I sat up and dangled my legs over the side of the tree, loathe to end our alone time so soon. When I went to place my hand in his, the spark I had anticipated was merely a fizzle. My reaction to him or the lack thereof surprised me, and I can't say that I wasn't disappointed because I had expected so much... more.

"Thanks," I frowned, hopping down from my perch.

"No problem," he replied, taking my other hand. Curiosity had me opening my mouth to ask him what he was doing, but it quickly became apparent when he slid my bracelet back on. His fingers lingered on my wrist and then with a feather light touch began to trail up my arm. The lack of reaction I had been so disappointed about earlier, was not an issue this time as I felt both heat and goose bumps rise in the wake of his touch. Looking into his eyes I discovered their color had changed to the same color one would associate with the depths of the ocean. How he managed to guide me backward to a nearby tree without tripping or breaking eye contact with me will always be a mystery, but that ceased to be a point of concern when the hand that had come to stop at my neck began to pull me forward. My heart, which had up until this minute been beating quickly albeit steadily, stuttered in my chest when he lowered his lips toward mine.