Ridge Creek
Authors: C L Green
Ridge Creek
C L Green
Published by C L Green at Kindle
Discover other titles by C L Green:
Attraction Series:
Natural Attraction
Copyright 2014 C L Green
ISBN-10: 0987552457
ISBN-13: 978-0-9875524-5-7
Front cover image © Cor Van Der Waal / 123RF
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locals, or persons, living or dead
is coincidental.
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This
ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to
share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for
each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was
not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase
your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
*****
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my best friend KAL.
My sister and soul mate in laughter, music
and crazy, crazy fun.
*****
Chapter One – Divine Intervention
Chapter Three – Even Crying Hurts
Chapter Four – Electronic Visibility
Chapter Seven – Ladies Come First
Chapter Twelve – Expansion Of Morality
Chapter Seventeen – Plausible
Deniability
Discover other books by C L Green
Divine Intervention
Staring up at the moon through my left eye, I wonder if
there is a God. Under normal circumstances I would hold steady to my firm
belief that God doesn’t exist.
But not tonight.
Tonight I have a reason to believe. A reason to believe
there might just be a God and that even though I have been a bad girl, he still
thinks I am worthy of redemption.
Either that or he simply has something else planned for me.
If that’s the case, whatever that something else is, I’ll take it. Anything
has to be better than being dead.
Right?
Clearly there is a reason I am still here.
There must be, I can feel it.
I can feel it because tonight I am positive I witnessed a
Divine intervention. I am also positive that without it, right now, I would
most certainly be dead. I would also most definitely not be looking up at a
big, bright, silvery full moon.
Blinking slowly, I marvel slightly at the sensation of
blinking with just one eye. It's not a skill that people use much, but tonight
I don’t have a choice. My right eye is swollen shut and has what I think might
be a nasty case of gravel rash over the top of it as well.
Not that I can confirm that, I haven’t seen myself in a
mirror.
Yet.
But perhaps I never will. I’m still not out of this mess
and even with the Divine intervention about half an hour ago, I’m not sure I’ll
be breathing easy any time soon.
Shifting my good eye from the sight of the big silvery moon
beating its light down on me and the skinny bitumen road ahead, I once again
hold my breath to listen for the truck. I have been doing this every five
minutes or so for the last half hour.
I do this because I know that eventually he’s going to turn
that truck off onto a dirt side road, pull to a stop and head around to the
back. Eventually, he’s going to find out the back roller door of that truck is
open and that I am no longer in there. Then he’s going to turn around and he’s
going to come looking for me.
Fuck.
With a deep sigh, I start my ridiculous shuffling along the
roadside again. My shuffle is compliments of the three inch spiked heel
missing off one of my boots. One of my
favorite
knee-high, leather
black boots.
Rethinking my Divine intervention theory, I decide that I
could be wrong. Surely if there
was
a God up there, he would not have
added this final insult to all my injuries. He would
not
have snapped
the heel off one of my favorite boots.
Deciding that I will probably cover the ground more quickly
if I rip the heel off my other boot, I groan and start searching the roadside
for something to sit on. Spotting a huge log off to my left, I swallow all the
scary thoughts. Scary thoughts of what might be slithering in the grass in the
dark under my feet. Scary thoughts of what might be behind or inside that
log. Scary thoughts of all the things that could be hiding in the thick forest
surrounding me.
Including vampires.
Shaking the ridiculous thought of vampires from my head and
wishing my high schoolteacher had never made us watch
The Lost Boys
that
time at school, I shuffle across to the log.
Ignoring all the screaming bones and muscles, I lower myself
down onto my sore ass. Leaning forward, I watch in awe as my right arm swings
uselessly in front of my body. It looks all kinds of wrong flopping about
while I grab for the heel on my second boot with my left hand. Gripping it
firmly, I am surprised at the ease with which it snaps off.
Ignoring the pain in my ribs as I straighten again, I am
about to fling the spiked heel off into the trees when it occurs to me that I
should hold onto it. It could useful to poke his eyes out if he manages to
catch up with me before I reach … safety.
Wherever safety is.
That’s a whole new problem I have yet to consider.
Thinking that I will just slide my new makeshift weapon into
the back pocket of my jeans, I slowly stand again and reach around behind
myself. Trying to find my pocket with my fingertips, I get yet another
surprise. The pocket of my jeans is no longer there, and to be honest, I don’t
think much of my pants are either. Feeling what might well be a mixture of
ripped clothing, ripped skin and blood with my fingertips, I sigh and give up.
Unfortunately, that’s when I hear it.
The sound of a truck groaning it’s away along the road
towards me.
Fuck, he’s on his way back already.
Freezing as panic takes over me again, I hear my heart
pumping in my ears.
This is it. This is fucking it.
There’s no way he’s going to just throw me in the back of
the truck alive this time. This time he’ll put that gun to my forehead and
blow the back of my head off first. This time he’ll make sure that I can’t
escape out the back before we get to his middle of nowhere, mineshaft
destination.
Watching in horror, I see the headlights of the truck
rounding a bend towards me and I suddenly launch into action. Spinning around,
I throw myself over the top of the log to land painfully and awkwardly on the
ground on the other side.
Cringing at the new round of unbearable pain shooting
through my body, I shuffle myself sideways and try to plaster my body
lengthways against the log. Lying on my back, staring at the silvery moon
again, I decide to start praying.
What have I got to lose?
As the truck approaches, I see the ground light up all
around me and I am temporarily blinded by the high beam lights blazing the
roadside into daylight. Muttering prayers of all the things I will do on
God’s behalf, I lie still as I will the truck to pass by without its driver
spotting me.
And it does.
It doesn’t even slow down, the engine never missing a beat.
In fact, I can’t even say that it sounded like the truck was in a hurry. It
sounded like a normal truck on a normal road, going somewhere. Although at two
in the morning, in the middle of nowhere, one would have to doubt that any
truck would be doing anything normal.
Dazed and relieved, I struggle back up to a sitting position
to look at the taillights of the truck as it makes its way off into the
distance. Staring in disbelief, I realize that this is a different truck to
the one I escaped from earlier. It's slightly bigger and it has canvas sides
that are flapping in the wind. The truck I had been in had solid metal sides.
Sighing with relief, I begin to struggle to my feet again
only to launch back into panic as I hear another loud grumbling vehicle noise
coming from the bend again. Swinging my head back, I falter briefly as I sight
the single headlight of a motorcycle and recognize the heavy roar of Harley
pipes.
A momentary sense of relief floods my system as I realize
that my savior may be here. This could be my ride to safety (wherever that
is).
It is only as I am about to struggle my way back over the
log that another thought hits me. What is a biker doing out in the middle of a
forest, in the middle of nowhere at two in the morning?
Fuck!
He’s probably out here taking care of the same sort of
business that
he
had been taking care of with me.
Shit, I’m probably jumping from the pan into the fire.
Realizing the error of my ways, I throw myself back down on
the ground and roll behind the log again. More pain screams through my body
but this time it’s worse. This time I land on my back and a rock positions
itself just right to jamb itself hard against my shoulder blade on the arm that
has been dangling uselessly.
As pain beyond bearing slices through me, my mind
finally
decides it’s had enough. It’s time to give up. After all I’ve been through
today, I’ve just found my last straw.
With an audible sigh of relief, I sink into blackness and
pass out.
*****
“Woman! Wake the fuck up woman!”
Slowly, and with a good amount of reluctance, my mind
decides to wake up again.
With an enormous effort, I drag my good eye open to find I
am still lying on my back next to the log.
There is a small torchlight beam pointing straight into my
face and I can vaguely make out the shape of an enormous hulk of a guy squatted
down behind it.
Deciding that it’s not worth fighting anymore, that this
time I really am done, I groan and shut my eye again.
Now is the perfect time to die.
I just hope he has a gun and decides it’s kinder to shoot me
than leave me lying out here on the roadside next to a creepy forest.
“Woman. What’s your name?” I hear Hulk’s deep rumbling
voice urge again.
“Ari,” I murmur. “Arianna.”
“Arianna, are you gunna be able to get to my bike?”
Keeping my eye shut, I half groan, half whisper as my mind
teeters on the edge of nowhere. “Just leave me here to die. I’m cool with
it.”
“What the fuck?” I hear him rumble loudly again. “I’m not
gunna leave you lying on a roadside woman. You’re all kinds of fucked up. You
need a hospital.”
At those words my mind snaps back to attention.
Ignoring the agonizing pain roaring through every part of my
body, I snap my eye open and start struggling to sit up. “No hospitals!” I grunt
between jabs of pain. “No police, no public places either.”
“What the fuck?” I watch as the torchlight moves and Hulk
puts the handle of the torch between his teeth. Using his now free hands, he
gently helps me to a sitting position.
“Arianna. You need to see a doctor. Can you make it to my
bike?”
Avoiding staring straight at the torchlight, I look towards
Hulk who is now in a stooping position in front of me and mumble, “No doctors
either. Just leave me be. I’m fine.”
Hearing a click, the torch goes off. Cast back into the
shadowy gray of the moonlight, I can now see a better outline of the man before
me.
He is indeed a biker. I can see he is wearing heavy biker
boots, possibly jeans and a thick leather jacket. He is also
huge.
Huge by way of being tall
and
broad. Huge by way of being six foot four
tall and muscly broad, not fat broad.
“You’re not fucking fine woman. You need help,” he rumbles
softly as he stoops down towards me. “I’m gunna carry you to my bike.”
“No!” I screech as I struggle to stand up on my own. There
is no way I am going to let Hulk carry me to his bike and then take me to a
hospital. I can’t go anywhere
he
might find me. As soon as he realizes
I am gone he’ll have men posted out the front of every hospital, police station
and shopping outlet for a hundred kilometer radius. He’s not stupid. He’ll
know I have to show up somewhere.
I watch as Hulk takes a step back at my outburst. His body
language tells me he’s being wary.
“Chill woman, I hear you. Trust me, I’ve got this.”
“No hospitals, no doctors, no police and no public places.”
I chant my list off trying to sound as authoritarian as possible. Although I
am finding it hard to sound anything but feeble when faced with a six-foot four
mountain of a man with a voice as deep as sin.
“Gotcha. I’ve got this. Just let me get you the fuck on my
bike.”
“Okay,” I mumble. “Thank you.”