Talisman 01 - The Emerald Talisman

All I really wanted was to get home where it was safe. I would ask him about it later.
    With his help, I climbed onto his back. I could feel his large muscles under his jacket and admired his nice physique.
    “Ready?” he said.
    “Yes,” I said and hugged his neck.
    Nimbly, he charged his way down the ravine along the mountain side. A path leading back up to the trail was about 100 yards ahead of us. Keeping a tight grip on his neck, I closed my eyes, enjoying the calming peace exuding from his body and realized I was no longer worried. It was as if he’d wrapped me in a warm comforting blanket and nothing in the world mattered. I wanted to stay there forever.
    But suddenly he changed course and barreled up the side of the cliff on a path unknown to me. I snapped out of my new found utopia and squeezed tightly, feeling like a butterfly hanging on for dear life, afraid I’d fall off. When I looked up, we were level again and on the original trail.
    “Which way?” he spoke, barely out of breath.
    I glanced behind us, but it was too dark to see the path that led from the ravine to the trail. Furrowing my brow, I wondered where this mysterious path lay hidden, as I knew the trails by heart. Maybe we weren’t where I thought we were?
    “It’s that way,” I motioned, pointing him in the general direction of my home.
    With ease, he carried me swiftly through the dark. I clung to his back, but sensed his worry and inner struggle, like he fought to control his feelings. I wondered why.
    Soon enough, we exited the woods and we were on the road leading to my house. He relaxed and continued on quietly, carrying me as if I were as light as a feather.
    The road was deserted, lit only by street lights. The mudslide made the street into a dead end, so no one drove down it unless they lived in the area. I was secretly grateful. I could imagine what my neighbors would think seeing me ride piggy-back on some guy’s back.
    Who was he anyway? And what was he doing in the woods at this time of night? And what happened to the person he fought on the trail?
    It seemed odd for him to be at the right place at the right time to save me from my demise. That kind of stuff only happened in movies. I felt the urge to ask him my questions until I caught a whiff of his scent. I knew it wasn’t cologne, but his natural masculine smell that made me secretly swoon. I buried my nose close to his collar and inhaled. With my eyes closed and my mind in pure bliss, I almost fell off when he spoke.
    “What were you doing wandering around the woods alone at night?” he asked.
    My eyes flew open and I froze for a minute, trying to be inconspicuous when turning my face away from his neck.
    “I was just going to ask you the same thing,” I blurted out.
    “I asked first,” he said with a smile in his voice.
    “I ran out of gas and I was sorta taking a short cut home.”
    When I uttered the words, I felt like a complete moron.
    “I see,” he said softly.
    I could tell he wasn’t impressed and I wanted to crawl into a hole. I desperately tried to think of something clever to say, but nothing came to mind.
    “And you?”
    “I heard you calling for help, so I came.”
    “Do you live near by?”
    “No . . . not really.”
    Tension slinked into the air and I felt my questions weren’t welcome—like he didn’t want to tell me why he was in the woods. This time my curiosity got the better of me and I couldn’t let it go.
    “So what were you doing?” I asked, gauging the atmosphere carefully.
    Ever so slightly, he breathed a twinge of panic, followed by frustration. “Like I said, I was in the area, heard you scream and then call for help. Did you not want me to help you?”
    “Well, yes . . . of course.” I bit my lip. “I heard a lot of noises before you were able to get to me. What were you doing?”
    He chuckled and I felt unnerved, thinking I asked a stupid question.
    “ It put up a fight. I almost didn’t get to you in time.”
    I hesitated before asking him what I really wanted to know. If he insisted my attacker to be an animal, then I’d sense his deception. And if he chose to lie to me, then no matter how much I enjoyed his company, this would be our final meeting. I didn’t make friends with liars, especially compulsive ones.
    “I was going to ask you about that . . .you said it was an animal?”
    I felt his disdain and then his curiosity.
    “Didn’t you see it?”
    “No . . .. actually, I didn’t.”
    My mind