The Poisoned Bond

Hideaway

My legs trembled as I pulled myself to my feet, the chill in the air offering no comfort to my heated cheeks; my heart was racing, and the thunder of it in my ears was all I could hear. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but the smell of Chase's cologne on my dress and skin was suffocating. I needed to get it off. Now.

With shaking hands, I peeled off and tossed the dress and apron inside the washing machine, the fabric whispering of our forbidden dance. I didn't dare look at myself in the mirror. The reflection would only show the truth: a girl who didn't know how to keep her feelings in check. The floorboards were cold against my bare feet. I picked up my laundry basket and tipped it into the machine, adding fabric softener and detergent pods.

I did not start the machine yet. I needed to be sure I had removed every trace of him from my skin. I padded down the hall the bathroom and stepped into the shower. I turned the knob and watched the water cascade over me, washing away the evening's events along with the sweat and grime of the day. I scrubbed my body with a loofah until my skin was raw, trying to erase the memory of his touch. I scrubbed harder, trying to erase the feeling of his touch, but it clung to me like a second skin, taunting me with the memory.

When I stepped out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a towel and shivered. I quickly braided my hair into pigtails and slipped into my favorite fluffy pajamas, the ones with cartoon rabbits that Simon had bought me for my last birthday. They felt like a warm hug from my best friend, a reminder that there was still some goodness in the world, even if I couldn't find it in myself.

I headed back to the laundry room to get it started. My hands hovered over the controls, the weight of what had just happened in the library pressing down on me. With trembling fingers, I started the cycle, watching the water swirl and the dress disappear into the depths of the washer. The sound of the water sloshing around the tub and the rhythmic thump of the machine against the floorboards was oddly soothing. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I needed sleep.

As I climbed into bed, I realized that sleep was going to be elusive. The wall was a canvas for my thoughts, and they painted a vivid picture of regret and longing. I turned on Netflix, hoping the mindless chatter of a sitcom would dull the ache in my chest.

The movie played out, the credits rolling, and still, sleep evaded me. I threw the covers off and climbed out of bed, my feet cold on the hardwood floor. I walked down to the washing machine and moved everything to the dryer except the dress which had to be hung to air dry. I sniffed everything as I moved it over to make sure it only had my scent on it.

I stared at the clothes tumbling around in a circle for a few moments. It was memorizing. I had to get out of there. I picked up my phone and sent a quick text to Pepper, telling her I needed some space and would be back in a few days.

I pulled out my suitcase and began to pack, tossing in clothes and toiletries without much thought. I needed to get away from the house, from the memories, and from the reality of what I had done. I knew where I had to go, where I would find refuge and, hopefully, some guidance.

Elkhorn National Park. Simon's fire cabin.

I threw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, grabbed my keys, and headed out into the night. The cool night air rolling in off the lake hit me like a slap in the face, but it was refreshing after the stifling heat of the barn. I climbed into my car and drove, the tires humming against the pavement, the only sound to keep me company.

When I reached the park, I parked in the same spot as before, the silence of the night wrapping around me like a blanket. I took a deep breath and took off into the woods.

I called out to Simon, using our secret password. "Rapunzel, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!" trying to keep the tremor from my voice.

The quiet was thick around me; I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. For a minute, I thought maybe Simon was sleeping too deeply to hear me. But then, I heard the soft scuffle of his footsteps on the cabin floorboards, and the gentle whish of the rope sliding down. A second later, a rope ladder dropped from the loft window. I tightened the straps on my backpack before climbing up, feeling the roughness of the rope against my palms.

When I reached the top, Simon was holding his hand up, his grin unmistakable even in the dim moonlight. "High five!" I exclaimed, slapping his palm firmly.

"Payment!" he yelled back, his laughter echoing through the stillness of the night.

I slid over the railing, and I felt a weight lift from my shoulders as Simon took my backpack. I could hear the jars shift with the honey and honeycomb inside. "The goods are at the top, with my clothes," I said.

"Payment accepted," he said, his voice rich with amusement as he headed inside with my backpack. The twinkle in his eyes was the same as it had been since we were kids, sharing secrets and stolen cookies. He had always had a way of making me feel like everything was going to be okay.

As I stepped into the cabin, I asked Simon about the new ladder. "Cissy made it," he said, "Thought it would be easier for when you come to visit."

The mention of Cissy brought a smile to my face. She was a kind, old woman from the pack who had always had a soft spot for me. It was a comforting thought.

"Now, I need your help," I told Simon as we sat down at his little table.

Simon's expression grew serious as he studied me, his eyes searching for the truth behind my smile. "What happened?" He offered me a dried strawberry from one of the bags I brought him last week. I shook my head.

Taking a deep breath, I launched into the story of my night with Chase. The kiss in the library, the dance, and... well, the almost.

Simon's hand paused mid-air, the strawberry forgotten. His eyes grew wide as saucers, and his mouth gaped open.

"Say something." I begged. "I know this is girl talk but you are all I have got, and I need help!!" I set my head down in my hands and groaned.

"I am not all you have got." Simon said. "But - Mags, what were you thinking?" He was shocked, yes, but his voice was not accusatory. It was filled with the kind of concern you get when your best friend does something incredibly stupid.

"I am not talking about this with grandma." I said without lifting my head. I shrugged my shoulders and moved my hands to the back of my head to fiddle with my pigtails. "I don't know. I just...I felt so alive with him, you know?" I looked up at him sliding my hands down to my lap, twisting the hem of my pajama shirt. "But I know it was wrong. He's looking for his mate, and here I am... I just... I don't know, Simon. I just don't know."

Simon leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath before speaking. "Okay, okay. I get it. But you know, he might be feeling just as bad about it. You guys had a moment, and things got heated. It's not like you forced him or anything."

I nodded, feeling a tiny bit of the weight lift from my shoulders.

"Maggie, you can't just push him away like this." Simon's voice was firm, yet gentle. "You guys have been friends for years. This isn't just a fling for you. It's more than that."

I nodded. "I know. I just..."

Simon leaned forward, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"You bring enough clothes for the weekend?" Simon asked.

I looked up at him with a guilty smile. "Yes. I was hoping you would not mind the company for three days – well – two days now,” I added after glancing at the clock.

"You know you never need to ask." Simon said. He got up and pulled a second cot from under his own and unfolded it. "Joe brought this the other day. Said it would be better than us both sleeping on the floor...like...dogs." Simon chuckled while he clicked all the pieces into place.

Exhaustion finally overtook me, and I wandered over to crash on the cot. The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow across the room.

As we lay there, I couldn't help but feel the weight of my decision to come here. "What am I going to do, Simon?"

"You're going to sleep," he said firmly.

The next few days were relaxed. Saturday night, the thunderstorms rolled in like a dramatic backdrop to our quiet conversations. The lightning painted the sky with bolts of electric white that stretched out and danced before fading away into the night. We sat in the cabin, the sound of rain tapping against the windows and the occasional clap of thunder echoing through the valley. Simon and I had a strange fascination with storms; we used to watch them with Uncle Henry when we were little. I had never seen him so relaxed, so I allowed the comfort of his company to ease my own tension.

On Sunday, we whiled away the hours in companionable silence. I buried my nose in a book that I had brought with me, losing myself in words as a way to escape my own reality. Simon occupied his time with the book of logic puzzles I had left behind last time. The simplicity of our shared space was a balm to my soul.

Monday morning, Simon woke me up with a Twinkie and a candle stuck in it. He sang Happy Birthday in a tone-deaf warble that had me laughing and rolling my eyes. He normally had a wonderful singing voice, but he was being silly. It was a sweet gesture, one that made me feel a little less alone. I blew out the candle and took a bite, I love Twinkies. We had a makeshift breakfast of toaster pastries and instant coffee.

Afterward, I packed up my things, feeling a strange mix of reluctance and excitement. I had to go back to face the music, but I was also eager to get to the ball tonight. The anticipation of the season's events and the possibility of finding a mate weighed heavily on my mind.

"You sure you're okay to go back?" he asked, his voice a little too casual.

"Yeah," I said, trying to inject some confidence into my voice. "I'll be fine."

He nodded and leaned against the railing. "I talked to Uncle James. Told him you'd be back in time for tonight."

"Thank you," I said.