Chapter 4

Warning: Any form of stereotyping is there for gags – not provocation…

Arella’s POV

Ok, so--- NOT dead!

That’s a plus…

And the good news kept coming because, despite the severe break in his leg, nothing else seemed to be broken. Or infected, which was a miracle in my book, considering that the bear trap looked as old as Methuselah and as rusty as a Cuban automobile.

Still disinfected the shit out of it…

And this time the man remained still as--- well, the dead, but knock on wood for me, will you?

I was sort of walking a thin line here…

The huge guy continued to sleep soundly, while I wrapped his leg and unceremoniously got him onto the stretcher.

And I do sincerely mean unceremoniously!

The guy weighed a ton! And no matter what training I’d done in the past or continued to do every day out here, could have prepared me for the density of this being.

“What did they make you out of? Clay?!” I panted, as I finally was done moving the mountain of muscles, aching in places I didn’t know I had places! “Seriously, I hope you’re not Jewish, otherwise I’m so screwed!”

Seriously!

Because since there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body, the only explanation had to be that he was made up of something else entirely. A flash of the legend of the golem clay monster momentarily popped up in my mind and I realized that that could actually explain his heaviness.

Not that he looked to be middle eastern – or Jewish for that matter--- And I suddenly burst out in laughter as I realized that there was a very simple way I could find that out. One little peek at his cock and I’d know right away.

Ha-ha--- I’m going to hell…

Catching my breath, I pushed myself to my feet and went to cover him properly. Once I did, I realized that there were some seriously bad-ass scars zig-zagging across his chest and torso. Hell, there were even a few on his face, but most of them were faint and barely noticeable. But I easily recognized the claw marks of a wolf – or a bear, since they were huge.

What in the world did this guy do for a living – besides illegal poaching?

Bear wrestle?

And was it even a good idea to bring him back to my place? Considering that the guy hadn’t just been high as a kite, but would possibly be experiencing withdrawal symptoms? Shotgun or no, the guy was three times my size and could easily take me. And guys on drugs were dangerous men…

But would I leave him here?

My instincts were telling me to walk away and never come back. But---

I took in a deep breath and slapped my thighs, standing to my full height. No, there was no way I was leaving him. High or not – poaching or not – he was a human being in need of help and I’d taken an oath. And so help me, I was going to respect that oath, even if it killed me.

Besides, he had a broken bone and was currently unconscious.

“What’s the worst that could happen, right?” I asked my pet chameleon and turned to the now mostly green lizard--- against a red and yellow rescue vest. Tiny responded by licking his eyeball and I huffed.

“Nobody likes a skeptic,” I scoffed, and went back to work. I attached the wheels to the stretcher and went back to my ATV, and slowly began the drive back to my cabin.

And stopped outside, glaring between the door and the man on the stretcher.

“Oh fuck,” I growled, realizing that I somehow had to get the heavy-as-all-sin bear wrestler inside.

“No good deed goes unpunished,” I hissed, turning off the engine and picking up Tiny, carrying him inside first and putting him on a shelf. And while my chameleon turned purple against a golden and coral backdrop, he silently watched as I comically pushed, pulled, and dragged the heavy log inside. I spent most of that time swearing and yelling profanities, which would probably make my Catholic family send me to confession – twice! – and the rest of that time I spent asking why this was happening to me. And yes, at that point, I was sitting on top of him, wondering if the floor really was that bad a place for him to rest.

Hell, I hadn’t been that bad of a person, right?

I mean there was that one time when I shaved my foster brother’s eyebrows--- and the rest of his body, but he totally deserved it! He’d gotten me in trouble with the pastor, just for kicks. And the other time, when I’d poured soda into my other foster sister’s science experiment, making the volcano quite literally explode... But she deserved that too!

She cut my hair while I slept!

It was justice – karma even!

I was merely the instrument, I swear…

At long last, I got the guy on the couch and, with a huff, I slid down next to him, sitting on the floor and trying to catch my breath again. Sweat was pouring down my brow, down my neck, and other unholy and utterly unsexy places. My tee was drenched, and I had sweat stains everywhere! Hell, even my crotch was wet, making me grimace.

I needed a shower – badly!

“Fucking shit,” I swore again--- and to my surprise, the guy grunted behind me, as if I'd displeased him. I narrowed my eyes at him and snorted. “You’re one to judge! You’re walking around naked in the woods! You know how much that stunt would have cost you in the Big Apple?” I laughed silently, my shoulders shaking as I did. “If anyone would have noticed with all the weirdoes walking here!”

I tried on a New York accent and laughed at my own joke---

Yeah, I did that a lot…

I was alone most of the time, sue me!

I took another sip of the water bottle I’d gotten myself at one point during the excursion and relished the fresh cold feeling of water running down my throat.

“Anywhere, you would have gotten a big fine,” I informed him, filling the strange not-emptiness of my cabin. I was used to being alone – and I was fine with that. Having this big lumberjack of a bear in my living room almost felt like an invasion of my home.

But I couldn’t let him sleep outside.

Although I’d been tempted by that idea for a moment there…

“But out here? Nothing!” I continued my rant, feeling tired and irritated. “Hell, you don’t even have to pay for the therapy I’m going to need after this.”

Or pay for all the replacement vibrators I was going to need, I snickered, remembering how absolutely well-hung the guy was. Even deflated, there was no denying that the guy was the size of a baseball bat. Hell, guys like him should come with a warning label:

A face that will look good in your wildest fantasies and a tool that will leave you forever looking for XXL sizes…

Ok--- That actually helped my mood a bit.

Pushing off the floor, I stripped and took a short shower. It was an outdoor shower, where the water only ever got as warm as the weather, but that was never a problem in the summer. Hell, I was just counting myself lucky that I at least had indoor plumbing.

The cabin wasn’t big but it was well done. A half-loft was above the kitchen where my bedroom was and the living room was a decent size with a big fireplace, a sofa – home to the unconscious growling junkie for now – and a big comfortable chair was placed right in front of the fireplace. And I spent many a night snuggled up into it, reading a good book.

Or twelve…

Refreshed and smelling a hell of a lot nicer, I walked back into the living room. I hadn’t bothered to put on my uniform again but kept the badge hanging around my neck, nevertheless. My hair was curly naturally, which meant it was one big frizzy mess on top of my head, but I wasn’t out here to impress anyone.

The big log was still sleeping off the drugs – at this point, I was just glad he was still breathing! But that’s when I decided that I was going to make myself and the golem something to eat. Supplies were far and long between, so I always made a point to gather as many roots, nuts, and mushrooms as I could, to be as self-sufficient as I could. I also sometimes set up traps to catch some small game or fish. Mynt, rosemary, and other spices were in abundance out here if you knew where to look, and – if I do say so myself – I did make a mean hare-stew.

Plugging my phone into the portable speaker, I put on some of my favorite music and started cooking. I may look like a sweet little Latina, with too much padding in all the wrong places, but I was a hard-core Metal Head at heart.

So, when Rammstein started to blaze through the speaker, I turned the volume all the way up, letting the music wash away the day. And as always, I swayed to the rhythm and sang along like nobody was listening!

Not realizing that dark blue eyes were following my every move…