Love without a Compass. Lindy Zart

back the urge to try to, once again, make him understand my betrayal, I begin to walk. He’s right. What I did was shitty and uncalled for, and I have no good reason for my actions. I have my reasons, but they don’t justify my behavior, not toward Ben.

      I have not been myself since I moved from my home state of Montana to Illinois. I felt it was necessary to change my public demeanor, and I’ve been lost for a while now. Until I can be completely upfront with Ben, things are at a standstill. Possibly irreparable at this point.

      * * * *

      The sound of Ben’s voice directly behind me causes me to jump. “Have you seen the map?”

      I turn to face my coworker. He’s kneeling on the ground, digging through the backpack with a black expression on his face. One leg is straightened to keep his weight off it. The leg is toned and covered in fine hairs and cuts. He looks haggard and beat up by nature. I’m sure I don’t look any better.

      “I saw you put it in the backpack when we started up the last trail.” I think.

      The look on his face gets deadlier. “It’s not here.”

      Ben turns the look on me. Without his glasses, the fierceness of his eyes is harder to ignore. My breath catches. I’m glad the glasses are gone; they were hiding such loveliness. I didn’t mean any of what I said. I find Ben terribly attractive, even when he’s scowling at me, as he is now, and I guess, pretty much always. He makes me so mad with his rude behavior and then I have to retaliate.

      “We need that map,” he all but growls.

      “Maybe it somehow fell out of the backpack when you took a tumble down the mountain.”

      “Right. Only I didn’t take a tumble down the mountain.”

      The sharply spoken words echo through me, bringing an uncomfortable twinge with them.

      “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I reply with a sniff. “I mean, it’s possible it seemed like I pushed you, but—”

      “Where’s the compass?” Ben cuts in, his voice rough and unpleasant.

      “Compass?” I frown.

      “Yeah. Compass.” He turns to me. “The contraption that is going to tell us which direction to go and help us find the others, since we apparently have no map.”

      “I don’t know anything about a compass. Didn’t you have the compass?”

      Ben turns to stone. “I handed you a compass before we walked up the last hill.”

      I scrunch up my nose. “No. I don’t think so.”

      “I know I gave it to you.”

      “If you did, I’m sure I gave it back to you, or put it in the backpack. I don’t remember.” I truly don’t, and who can blame me? This whole filthy, uncivilized scenario has me traumatized.

      “Are you—are you kidding me?” Ben slams his hands on the top of his head and keeps them there. His shirt rides up, showing a hint of lean muscle.

      My heartrate trips and I redirect my gaze from him. “If I didn’t give it to you or put it in the bag, which I’m sure I did, it must have somehow been lost when I was attacked by that rabid bird. When I next see the employees of Extreme Retreat, I will demand to know why they allow birds out here. That’s completely uncalled for.”

      He sputters, his face turning red. “You lost it? You lost it?”

      Heat burns my cheeks. “Maybe? I don’t know. It isn’t like I planned on being chased by a crow. I could have gotten seriously hurt, and you’re worried about a stupid compass. You know, you could have at least tried to help me out, instead of falling down the side of the mountain.”

      Ben mutters something.

      “What? What was that?”

      “Son of a bitch.” Ben gets to his feet, heaves up the backpack, and flings it in the air. A bird squawks as the bag soars by, within inches of hitting it. He stalks toward me with a faint limp, danger dancing in the depths of his dark eyes. He looks like a beast. A virile, unstoppable machine of vengeance.

      “That was unnecessary.” I step back, and Ben follows.

      His voice is low and controlled when he tells me, “We are now out of a compass. Because you took it from me, along with the map, right before we climbed up the mountain you shoved me off.”

      “Shoved? That’s a little harsh.”

      I take another step back, and again, he closes the distance between us.

      “Okay. Then we’ll backtrack until we find it. It has to be around here somewhere.” My face burns under the force of Ben’s focus. “Why are you looking at me like that? What is it?”

      Time pauses as I watch a vein bulge in his forehead, and then he explodes.

      “How are we supposed to find anything without the map, or the compass?” Ben roars, kicking at a nearby bush. He swears, reaching for his bad leg he used to abuse the foliage. He spins away, and then turns back to add, “Have you also somehow missed the fact that we are surrounded by trees? How are we supposed to have any idea which way to go?”

      “We’ll find another checkpoint. They have to be all over the place.”

      Ben’s jaw hardens.

      “I guess…” My mouth is terribly dry. “I guess we need a compass or map to find those too?”

      “We’re—”

      “Don’t say it,” I plead.

      “Lost.”

      I close my eyes as my stomach drops. Guilt races through me. This is at least partially my fault. We are surrounded by treacherous earth and unknown danger, pretty much the worst scenario ever to find yourself in when lost. I hate when things are my fault. It makes my stomach queasy. Anger is better than guilt. I can handle anger.

      I snap open my eyes, glare at Ben, and lie. “This isn’t my fault.”

      He laughs at me. He actually laughs.

      “I shouldn’t even be surprised,” Ben says conversationally. “Ever since you stepped through the red door of Sanders and Sisters, my life has been completely ass-backwards.”

      Ben’s words evoke a flutter of disquiet in my chest. Because it’s true. It’s been one miscommunication after another with us since the moment we met. I turn from his view and look at what faces me on all sides. Tall, long-limbed trees, and whatever lives among them. They look ominous; I swear they’re mocking me.

      My voice is weak when I tell him, “That’s a rotten thing to say.”

      “Am I wrong?” Ben counters.

      Not having a comeback, I mutter, “Whatever.”

      “Did you or did you not make sure you had Duke’s favorite breakfast delivered every morning?”

      “So?” I shift uncomfortably when he turns to glower at me.

      He steps closer. “First of all, that’s Anne’s job, and second of all, you were being an ass kisser.”

      “I was—”

      He moves another step closer, until we’re less than a couple feet from each other. “Because every morning when you took his food to him, you made sure you mentioned some great idea you had for one of the companies interested in using our advertising agency. There you sat, chirping away in his ear, making yourself indispensable to him.”

      He raises his voice to a high falsetto. “Oh, Duke, what do you think of this? And I had the most wonderful thought last night. I think if we move the wording around, it will sound better.”

      My face flames. I jab him in the chest. “You purposely set up an appointment