Bayou

Chapter 25 ~ Bound

Chapter 25

Croc had awoken something in me, and not just in a physical sense. It was cells and chemistry and DNA. He'd set fire to my nervous system, boiled my blood, melted me down, then left me anticipating when he'd put me back together again. I wanted more. For the first time in my life, I wanted a man. I wanted to give myself, and then that man disappeared.

If we entered the same room, he left it. If I sought him out, he brushed me aside. He was busy hunting, fixing something, checking this, doing that, and he always needed to be alone. For weeks, I barely saw him, then, I stopped seeing him at all. It was as if he'd never existed, and the only indication I had that he was even still alive was Julia. Each time we ate, she made him a plate then ventured off unannounced to deliver it to him. She refused to let me follow, ignored my questions, told me all was fine, said Croc had his reasons, and for the first time since I'd known her, her lips were sealed.

I paced the floor every time she left, tossed and turned through sleepless nights, and with each day that passed, my frustration festered like a wound. The need became tangible–a living, breathing entity that clawed me from the inside out and left my skin raw, sensitive, and far too tight.

My hormones were on high alert and ready to take the plunge, but the tall glass of water they'd chosen to dive into was nowhere to be found.

I lay in bed, wide awake, staring at the ceiling as if it were everything I'd ever hated. My teeth bared a little more each time an alligator started screeching. They'd been doing it more and more, especially at night, and something about the sound inflamed my irritation, because I wanted to ask him why, and he wasn't there to tell me.

He didn't get to do that. He didn't get to ingrain himself into my life then silently slip out of it. It wasn't fair. If I'd upset him, he could at least explain. Nothing made any sense, and I couldn't take it anymore.

I kicked my way out of the blanket and smacked my fists against the cushions on either side of me. My teeth clenched tighter, forming a barrier between my scream and the peacefully sleeping children in the next room. It wasn't working. It wouldn't stop. He'd done this. He'd done something, and I'd be damned if I was going to go one more minute without him fixing it.

I rolled from the couch, threw on my shoes, and stormed out the back door with no direction or thought. It was later than sin, and the swamp was alive with bellowing gators. Grunts sounded from the east, a low hum drifted from the west, then silence fell for a period of time before the harmony repeated itself from a new direction. I didn't understand what was happening, not without Croc to explain it, but I knew it was somehow connected, and I was determined to understand before the sun rose.

I trudged through the grass, following my instincts, smelling the air and praying I'd be able to sense him the way he could me. An internal compass urged me into the thick trees, over roots and through the mud. I ignored each scratch from a limb and gave little thought to what dangers may lurk within the darkness.

My stomach clenched and held as his scent hit my senses. Earthy and masculine and raw. I picked up my pace, following the smell until I could hear his harsh breaths, then I saw him.

I pressed both hands against a cypress and peeked around it.

Croc sat against a tree, his head hung forward. Thick chains cut across his chest. He was locked in place, banded to the trunk. His hands were behind his back, and his legs were stretched out flat, ankles bound with thin rope. I stared, shocked to see him that way; hair disheveled, glinting with sweat. Red marked the skin where he was bound as if he'd been fighting to break free. Had Julia done this? Why?

I took a step forward, and a twig snapped beneath my foot.

Croc's head shot upward, and he sniffed the air hard. A deep, masculine laugh rumbled from his chest, then like a star caught behind a cloud, he darkened and jerked savagely against the restraint.