The Publicist's Plight (Book I in The Harrison Inc. Series) | ✓

Chapter Twenty Three: Mistakes

Three hours. Three hours of walking, falling, tripping, whining, mentally dying and coming back to life again in the woods.

"Sebastian, I don't think I can go much longer," I pant, holding onto a tree for support. My legs are sore from the calf all the way up to the thigh, and every step I take creates the most intense feeling of ache I have ever felt.

"We're almost there," he says. He does a better job at hiding his tiredness and pain than I do, but it's still evident all over his body, especially in his worn-out eyes.

I let go of the tree and drag myself to keep up, "Well how do you know that? How do you know how far we have to go? We could...we could be wandering here all night, for days, even. What if we don't make it? What if we don't make it to the ro—"

Suddenly, gravity drags me down a soft hill of dirt and plants and pushes me down in an embarrassing tumble paired with a boisterous scream. The world around me is nothing but blurs of brown and scrapes against sticks until I hit the ground. When my hands feel the ground beneath me as actual gravel rather than soft dirt or rough leaves, however, I freeze.

The wide expanse of road that separates forest from forest almost brings a tear to my eye—the yellow and white painted dividers, the evergreen sign a yard away indicating the type of slope of the hill, and the endless meadow at the end of the forest, with wooden fences between the greenery and the road that runs right in between.

"Road!" I cry as I lay on the ground and look up and the darkening sky with a smile. "Road!"

"Leslie, are you alright?"

"Never been better!" I giggle.

"Perfect. Then c'mon."

Sebastian continues down the road, aiming for the bright green fields that break the woods.

I slowly sit up and stare at his distancing back in disbelief, "Wh...what?"

"I said c'mon, we've got to keep moving."

"Can we just take a break? We've been walking for hours, the least we can do is just...just sit and...and rest. Please?"

He turns and faces me, and although he's farther away, I can still see the apparent annoyance on his face.

"May I remind you of the reason we're stuck out here?" he says.

I lay back on the ground, "Don't bring up that card—"

"Well, I'm bringing it up."

Before I know it, Sebastian is already by my side, kneeling down so his face is inches away from mine. I stare up at his eyes—eyes that are so cold and exhausted. I hold my breath at our close proximity and his hostile demeanor.

"I'm tired, my feet feel like I'm walking on hot coals, my stomach is growling like a wild animal and my mouth is so dry I can't even feel spit on my tongue. I stink, I'm dirty, and my legs are about to collapse on me. Yet you're here on the ground complaining as if you're the only one suffering. This wouldn't be happening if you would have listened to me in the first place, Leslie. Matter of fact, this wouldn't be happening if I wouldn't have listened to you; you'd be stuck out here yourself."

"Excuse me, but—"

"Look up at the sky," he points to the shade of lilac and baby blue above us without peeling his eyes off of me. "Do you know what that means? The sun is about to set. Do you want to be out here at night?"

I don't reply.

"Do you want to be out here at night!?"

"No! I don't!" I shout at him.