Chapter 17

Time passed slower in the swamp. The days were fuller, brighter, and I found myself waking up earlier and dreading the time I'd need to return to sleep. My encounter with Danny had shone a new light on changing, and I didn't want to miss anything. I didn't want it to end. Croc taught me how to move the way he did, how to feel the current and mold my body into it. The water was just as alive as the rest of the Bayou, and I found myself unable to stay away from her for too long.

Croc called her his mother. He said the water raised him, and I'd have never taken him seriously had I not experienced it for myself. She was like a mother. She enveloped, protected, and every time I sunk into her depths, I grew like a baby returned to the womb.

I could hold my breath for an eternity, swim faster than Gator, climb trees with little effort, and jump across the canopy to land among a new set of branches. I was invincible, extraordinary, and all my fears evaporated in the glory of what I could achieve.

Croc didn't break any more rules. He never had a chance to. We were always with the kids or Julia. But his attention never ended. With each new advancement I made, the heat of his gaze scorched my skin. I avoided his touch, sure that if he so much as brushed against me in passing, I'd disintegrate into ash.

Thankfully, I didn't need his protection as much as I had, and I found moments alone at night. A tree along the edge of the backyard offered the same view Croc had shown me from the roof, and I made it my purpose to climb into its branches whenever the opportunity arose. The quiet beauty cleared my mind.

I slipped out the back door, careful to remain silent. Everyone had gone to bed over an hour before, and I'd waited, making sure they were all asleep. I'd been doing it more and more, getting braver as each night passed without incident or discovery. I was better at it. I'd become a part of the swamp, and I could feel it, move with it, from each blade of grass beneath my feet to the grooves and marks that lined each tree.

I lifted my hand and smiled as glowing green fireflies rushed forward to dance around my twirling fingers. My tree waited, beckoning with swaying branches draped in moonlit Spanish moss.

I hurried forward and gripped its trunk, digging in with fingers and toes and pulling myself up to the branch I always occupied. The view took my breath no matter how many times I looked at it. Miles of winding, glittering green. I rested my head back, stretched my legs in front of me, crossed my ankles atop the branch, and watched, listened, absorbing every rustle and sound just like I absorbed what the water had to offer.

"Wish you were here, old man," I whispered into the calm. I'd been thinking about Merle more and more, coming to peace with the fact that too much time had passed. He wasn't coming, and I wanted to believe—I needed to believe—that he'd somehow made it. In some form, he was here with us, happy we'd found our way, laughing at Julia's antics and impressed with my new abilities. I preferred it to the alternative. No way could a man like Merle just cease to exist. His spirit burned too bright to ever flicker out.

A twig snapped, and my gaze jerked toward where the sound had come from only to find an empty yard. I looked higher, up to the roof where Croc slept. The top of his lean-to was the only shadow visible from my position, and I searched the ground on all sides.

A rustle sounded from the tree to my left. My heart skittered, and I lifted, readying myself to make an escape.

Croc pulled himself onto the branch only three feet from mine and crouched, locking eyes with me.

"You scared me." I clutched my heart and sucked in a breath. "You shouldn't sneak up on people."

"I didn't sneak," he said, tone low. "If I'd wanted to sneak, you wouldn't have heard me."

I pursed my lips but nodded, knowing he was telling the truth. "Sorry if I woke you. I couldn't sleep and wanted some air."

"You do that a lot." He moved again, like a cat, arms and legs smoothly working in time. He looked ready to pounce, and I felt the sudden need to get up and prepare to run. Croc's gaze lingered on my reaction, and his breaths sharpened. "You're out here every night."

"It's nice to have the time alone." I hopped to my feet and hugged the trunk of the tree with one arm.

His chest rumbled, a deep throaty sound that sent a jolt of electricity into my stomach. "You shouldn't run."

My heart rate increased. Who was this man, and what had he done with Croc? This man wasn't innocent. This man ignited my nervous system, and he hadn't even made it close. I took a slow breath and moved another inch. "Why?"

His teeth bared, almost a smile but not quite. Sweet yet aggressive. Playful yet predatory. "Because then I want to chase you."

He lunged, and I jumped back, barely grasping a limb on the next tree. I pulled myself up and spun around.

Croc rumbled a laugh, eyes dancing. "You've been avoiding me."

"I see you every day."

He lunged again, and I did the same, keeping us a tree apart.

"You know that's not what I mean," he murmured. "You don't want to be alone with me." He pulled himself onto a large limb and stood to use it like a bridge to my tree.

I turned, searching for a place to jump, but I'd reached a gap and all the limbs on the next tree were either too flimsy or too high to get to from my position. "Shit!" I ground my teeth, searching, but I couldn't deny the excitement. Adrenaline surged, so strong my whole body buzzed with it.

"You better hurry, little fish. Croc's gonna catch you." His tone was light, but I panicked all the same.

With no other options, I jumped back to where I'd been, then kept going, one tree after the next, too quick for my brain to even comprehend which branch I was aiming for.

I made it through six trees, reaching the border of the yard where the cypresses thickened and the moon disappeared.

Croc's hand hit the branch next to mine, and he swung up in front of me, circling my body and caging me to the trunk.

His lips were parted, eyes electric, and his breaths came out quick and sharp. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to mine as he gave himself a moment to catch his breath. "You've gotten so slippery," he murmured. "I've been wanting to catch you for weeks."

"I'm not actually a fish, Croc."

His nose touched my hair then lightly traveled down to my neck. "True," he rumbled, "but I still caught you." He cupped my waist, pulling me closer.

I trembled despite his blistering heat. It flooded my chest, pooled into my stomach, warming me up for things I couldn't allow to happen. "You...can't catch a human."

"I know how the rules work," he murmured against my neck. "With humans it has to be mutual. I can't catch a human unless they want to be caught." He gently kissed my skin. "You wanted me to catch you. You want me like this." He pressed closer. "I can smell your arousal." He took another deep breath in through his nose and rumbled low in his chest. "It's mutual."

I curled my hands into fists, demanding they not reach out and grip him closer. He didn't understand. There were other reasons to not want to get caught. There were plenty of reasons why he shouldn't get involved with me. "I'm not a good catch."

He shook his head. "I'm the hunter. I get to decide that." His lips pressed against my skin, then again along my jaw. "You're the greatest catch I've ever made."

I lifted my chin and bit the inside of my cheek. "Croc, stop."

He pulled back immediately and stared at me, jaw set and eyes determined. "Why? Why do you think you're not a good catch?"

I blinked away the familiar sting. I'd never told a soul, never said it out loud, and the thought of telling him made bile dance at the base of my throat. He didn't need to know. He didn't need to see that part of me. "There are good reasons. You just have to trust me."

"I don't. Not about this." The words were sharp. "You protected Julia. You saved the babies. You sit next to a man that fills your scent with disgust, yet you don't show an ounce of fear." He gripped my chin between his fingers, forcing my gaze up to his. "You amaze me more than letters. More than words. More than books. You embraced the water, learned the swamp, and it fell in love with you just as hard as I did."

Love. No, not love. He couldn't love me. He didn't even know what it was. He'd never had a chance to learn, not that, not yet. "No, Croc." I shook my head. "Maybe you think you do, and I believe you when you say those things, but you have nobody to compare me to, and there's plenty you don't know."

"Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me what it is so I can tell you it doesn't matter."

"It does matter!" I threw up my hands. "And I...I don't want to tell you."

He stared me down, not giving an inch, and when he spoke again, the words were quieter. "I'll give you anything you want. I'll do whatever you ask. If you want me to stay away, leave you alone, and pretend we don't both feel this way, I will." He held me locked, unblinking, intent. "But I'm not letting you out of this tree until you tell me why."

My eyes turned to slits. He didn't get to demand that. It was my story. My secret, and I'd carried it long before I'd ever met him. "I'm not telling you."

He didn't even flinch. "Then I'm not letting you go."

We squared off, and I wanted to scream at him. Of all the times he could have picked to start behaving like every other stubborn, pig-headed man, this was the worst possible one. He wanted to know. He wanted to see. He wanted to taste the vile, putrid acid that came along anytime I thought of it. It would turn him off, drive him away, change his opinions and alter his view. It would destroy all the things he thought he knew about me.

It was for the best. "Fine," I ground out between my teeth. "You want to know?"  My stomach churned, and cool dread filled my lungs, froze my words. He'd never look at me the same. He'd be able to see me, how I truly was, the filth and dirt I kept hidden from the world. "You're not the first," I said.

That wasn't enough. He remained perfectly still, watching, waiting.

"I've been with men before. Lots of men. My body has been used, Croc, over and over again." The more I spoke, the easier it became, and before I could process what was happening, the words poured out of me like a purge. "I let the aid in the group home do what he wanted because I didn't think I was allowed to say no. I let my first foster father touch me for the same reason. I ran away when I was fifteen and slept with a man in exchange for a place to hide." I swallowed hard. "I let Danny use me how he wanted if he'd lower my doses enough to keep me alive. I'm tarnished, Croc. You think you want me, but—"

Croc pulled away and dropped to the ground below, and it felt as if he'd plunged a knife into every wound I'd just laid open for him.

I looked down, watching him stiffly walk away, only to realize too late where he was headed.

Danny.