CHAPTER NINE
I was in the woods again, at the same cliff as before, staring into the water at the bottom as I fought to catch my breath. My throat felt raw as I dragged in forceful gulps of air, resting my hands on rubbery thighs.
I couldn’t turn back and needed to keep moving, but as far as I could see, the only way to go… was down.
I hesitated. It was a fifty-foot drop to the bottom of the cliff, and while the current was moving languidly enough, I had no idea how deep or shallow the body of water was.
Still, the feeling of being hunted loomed over me, smothering me like a blanket and demanding I move. I was prey – little more than a rabbit sitting in an open field, frozen in fear as the wolf prepared to pounce.
But what was hunting me?
Or more accurately… who?
“Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
My eyes flew open, a rush of fear so intense sweeping through me that I felt like I was choking on it.
Bright, artificial light blinded me a moment later, my eyes burning as the light of a ceiling fan assaulted my vision. They reflexively snapped back shut as the mocking, masculine voice of my dream echoed in my ears. But already, the actual words the voice had spoken were fading, disappearing into the unrecognizable labyrinth my mind had become.
Regardless, the fear remained. Along with a distinct pounding in my temples.
“You’re awake.”
I nearly sprung out of… bed?... at the sound of Derek’s voice, my hand flying to my heart like that of a little old lady who’d just heard someone drop a few dozen f-bombs in church. My eyes connected with his where he stood, leaning against the wall in the corner of the bedroom – his bedroom.
A hot flush burst across my cheeks. “You have a penchant for lurking in shadows, you know that?”
He pushed himself off the wall, folding his arms across his chest. And sweet baby Jesus, he was shirtless again, his biceps bulging over the sinewy muscles of his chest. “I don’t lurk.”
He didn’t sound amused.
I blinked, a distinct sense of disorientation falling over me. If memory served, Derek had seemed almost… friendly?... this morning. Or as friendly as someone like him got, anyway. Now he was back to the closed-off, short-tempered recluse I’d met that first evening. “Right,” I agreed hesitantly.
What had happened?
Hadn’t it been morning just a little while ago? How had I ended up in Derek’s bed? (Again, my subconscious pointed out snidely.) A particularly painful throb ricocheted through my head and made me wince. With a headache, no less?
I rubbed my right temple like the pressure my fingers applied could somehow stave off the ache. “What happened?” I asked, carelessly giving voice to my thoughts.
I immediately regretted it when my eyes flitted back over to Derek. He was staring at me, tension exuding from his form as his eyes drilled holes into mine. “Let me guess,” he bit out harshly. “You don’t remember?”
I winced, my face burning impossibly hotter. “Uh, w-well,” I stuttered, “didn’t you leave to go check on your animal traps? I took a shower and was in the garden, picking raspberries and sweet peas when… oh. Oh.”
Mortification flooded me.
I could recall with perfect clarity the wave of dizziness that had overcome me, and even more vividly, the way I had collapsed to my knees and proceeded to heave the breakfast Derek had so thoughtfully made me into the grass.
No wonder there was a filmy layer of what tasted like death on my tongue. I cringed.
“Yeah, oh. What the hell were you thinking?”
The words practically ripped themselves from his throat as he hurled them at me, and I wanted to disappear in the face of his obvious anger, but what could I do? Pull the quilt in my lap up over my head and hide? He already thought of me as a child; there was no need to prove him right.
“I’m sorry about the sweet peas,” I muttered, feeling like a little kid being scolded despite it all. Then, more loudly, I added, “But I swear I picked all the raspberries I could find! I put the bucket in the fridge.”
Derek stared at me in blatant disbelief. “You think I’m mad about the peas?” he deadpanned.
It wasn’t exactly a question, but not not a question either, and I didn't know how to answer. Derek was impossible to read. But if he wasn’t mad about the peas, why else would he be so upset? “I… well, I don't know… yes?” I answered hesitantly.
A muscle on the side of Derek’s jaw twitched. “You… you harebrained, little thing… I ought to-”
“I was just trying to help!” Embarrassingly enough, I could feel tears beginning to flood my eyes, and I hurriedly directed my gaze to my lap. I wrung my hands, desperately trying to blink the tears away before Derek saw.
He must have seen something, though, because his mouth shut with an audible snap, and I heard him take a deep breath in through his nose. A long minute passed in a tense sort of silence.
“Look at me.”
I didn’t take kindly to receiving orders, but this wasn’t one. The words were spoken softly, tiredly – more of a request, really, than anything – so I obliged, forcing myself to look up and hold Derek’s gaze. An embarrassing ping of longing tickled my insides at the soft look in his eyes.
“I don’t care about the peas,” he said slowly – carefully. “Or the raspberries. Or the goddamn garden. I care that I came back from checking my traps to find the girl that I’m supposed to be taking care of unconscious in my yard, her skin tomato-red from the sun. I couldn’t even tell if you were breathing right away, your breaths were so shallow. I had to strip you down and hold you afloat in a tub of ice water for damn near an hour to get your temperature back down to normal.”
It was a lot to take in.
Embarrassment buzzed under my skin at the fact that Derek had seen me in my underwear yet again. (His story certainly explained both why I was wearing a new shirt and resting in his bed.) But I was more fixated on something else.
“I care…”
Derek had said he cared. About me.
I knew he didn’t mean it like that, of course, but an unfamiliar warmth blossomed in my chest regardless.
I didn’t realize I’d been silent a beat too long, just staring into Derek’s green eyes, until a crease of concern formed in his brow.
“Sorry!” I blurted. I wasn’t sure what exactly I was apologizing for – I owed him a lot of apologies – but the word flew out of my mouth without conscious thought.
His frown deepened. “Stop it,” he said severely.
I flinched.
He huffed, running an agitated hand through his hair before continuing. When he spoke this time, his voice was softer. “Stop apologizing.”
Now it was my turn to frown. “I am sorry, though. I promised not to get in your way and here I’ve been doing nothing but that since you’ve found me.” I vividly recalled the eager way I had assured him he wouldn’t even know I was there, staying at his cabin with him.
“Look, save your apology. This,” he gestured vaguely at me with one hand, his other coming up and pinching the bridge of his nose, “is as much my fault as yours. Even though you should have had the common sense not to go out in ninety-degree heat in an oversized shirt and thick pair of sweats,” he eyed me pointedly, “I never should have told you to go outside and tend to the garden in the first place. And just so we’re clear, working – be it yard work or washing dishes – is not part of the agreement for you staying here. This isn’t some work-for-board scenario. The only work you need to be doing is figuring out who you are.”
So you can be on your way.
He didn’t say it, but I knew well enough what he meant.
“That reminds me…” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. I wasn’t surprised – this was the most I’d ever heard Derek talk in one sitting. (It was obvious enough that socializing wasn’t exactly his forte.) “As long as you’re staying here, you’re going to need some essentials. Clothes, toiletries, whatever… girly things. If you’re feeling up to it, we’ll go shopping tomorrow.”
A little thrill of excitement shot through me at the thought of having something of my own – besides my sandals, anyway, which were probably still outside, caked with dried mud. “Okay.”
Derek startled at my easy agreement, almost like he’d been expecting a fight. “Okay?”
“Um… yes?”
“Well, alright then.” He made a move towards the door.
“Derek!” I yelled before he could take another step. “There’s just… one more thing.”
There was that frown again. “What?”
I almost hesitated in the face of it, but now that I’d gotten past the whole “I care” part of his earlier speech, my brain couldn't help but pick up on what else Derek had said. “Just so you’re clear,” I said, purposefully using his earlier words, “you’re not obligated to take care of me. I’m not some hapless little girl. I don’t need a big, strong man to... to…”
What? To rescue you from the river? From your own stupidity? Or, I know, how about from your own mind that refuses to work properly?
“…to take care of me.” I finished weakly, realizing I was repeating myself, but not knowing what else to say.
Derek stared, and I fought the urge to shrink into myself, knowing that he, too, was probably thinking of all the times I had needed him. To Derek’s credit, though, he didn’t point any of them out. Not that he had to. His eyebrows, raised to practically his hairline, did all his talking for him.
I didn't know it was possible for eyebrows to be so expressive.
“That’s too bad,” he said after a moment, voice purposefully blasé. “I have some stew warming on the stove for supper. I made enough for two, but if it goes against your policy about big, strong men taking care of you…”
My stomach twisted in sudden but demanding hunger, and I fought off a blush. “I… well… stew sounds delicious,” I admitted quietly, feeling half-defeated and half inexplicably… warm.
* * *
I didn't think my face would ever recover. I was thoroughly convinced it would stay red forever.
Not because of the sun burn, either.
Sure, my forehead, the apples of my cheeks, and the bridge of my nose were a shiny, blistery red, but I was much more concerned about the constant flush that insisted on crawling up my neck whenever I was in Derek’s presence.
He’d been watching me like a hawk since I’d woken up the evening before, his observant eyes trailing after me wherever I went. Almost like he expected me to faint again, which… fair.
But still… his attention flustered me.
Especially since he seemed intent on walking around shirtless. It was a bit strange, really, but it was hardly my place to say anything. I didn't think I would even if it was my place. The man’s torso was a work of art that looked like it had been crafted by the gods themselves.
But his odd habit of walking around half-naked made it difficult for me not to ogle. Which, of course, Derek seemed to have picked up on with his ever-watchful gaze. I was pretty sure I had even seen him smirk when I’d gotten distracted by his bulging pectorals and accidentally tipped over my glass of milk at supper last night.
I’d been so flustered that I hadn’t even fought when Derek had insisted I take his bed shortly thereafter. If my dreams featured sinewy muscles and a sharp, stubble-covered jaw instead of suffocating woods and the edge of a mountainous cliff for the first time since I’d woken in Derek’s house two days ago, well… that was no one’s business but my own.
The next morning, a mixture of relief and disappointment washed over me when he emerged from the bathroom after we’d finished polishing off another mouth-watering breakfast – biscuits and sausage gravy – with an actual shirt on.
“Ready?” he asked, nodding towards the door, and I could only assume he meant shopping.
“Whenever you are,” I agreed, following him outside after slipping on my sandals. Derek had brought them in the night before. The once-white wedges were practically stained black from the soil from his garden, but it wasn’t like I had anything else to wear.
Thane followed us, brushing up against my thigh as he bounded up to his owner. Derek hadn’t been the only one watching after me since I’d fainted yesterday. Thane had been practically glued to my side ever since, even insisting on sleeping on the floor at the bottom of my – I mean, Derek’s – bed last night.
I felt a frown tugging at my mouth when the man in question unlatched the back end of his red Chevy. After he released a high-pitched whistle, Thane jumped into the bed of the truck.
“Um… maybe it’s a regional thing,” I spoke up hesitantly, still trailing behind Derek, watching as he opened the passenger-side door, “but since when are dogs allowed in shopping malls?”
Derek snorted, his eyes trailing my every move as I hauled myself up into his truck. (I made sure not to slip.) “They’re not.” He shut the door.
My frown deepened at his answer, but I was forced to wait until after he had walked around the truck and slid into the driver’s seat to ask my follow-up question. “So why is Thane coming with us then?”
Derek shrugged as he twisted the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life beneath us. “Thane does what he wants,” he said, like that explained everything. He shifted the truck into drive, and we addled down the gravel driveway. “He knows he’ll be waiting outside the store.”
“And you’re okay with that?” I demanded, a little aghast. What if something happened to him?
“What part of Thane does what he wants don’t you get?”
“But what if he wanders off?” I asked sharply. “Or, or…” I struggled to find my footing in this bizarre conversation. “Or someone dog-naps him?”
His eyebrows shot up at the word “dog-nap”.
Cue the blush.
“Thane doesn’t wander,” Derek assured me briskly. The corner of his lip twitched. “And I’d like to see someone try to ‘dog-nap’ him.” His patronizing tone made it more than clear what he thought the odds of that were. “For one, he’s bigger than you.”
It wasn’t untrue. Thane’s head came up to somewhere near my thigh when he stood on all four legs, and though he had all the features of a lab, there was probably something else mixed in there too – mastiff, maybe.
“Not to mention, he’s meaner than anything when he wants to be.”
I bristled, affronted on Thane’s behalf. Derek had said it so casually. “He’s not mean!” I protested.
Derek snorted. “Not to you,” he agreed. “He’s taken a liking to you for some bizarre reason.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes at his disbelieving tone. Like it was so hard to like me. “Rest assured, he isn’t always so mild.”
Keeping one hand on the wheel, he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt with the other, baring the inside of his defined forearm to me.
I had to withhold a gasp. There was a scar there, discolored little patches of skin shaped in two huge crescents. Teeth marks.
I fought the urge to reach for Derek’s arm and run my fingers over the indents. “Thane did that?” I asked weakly.
I already knew the answer, of course. Why else would Derek have shown me?
He must have seen something in my expression – a hint of fear, nervousness, I don't know – because he quickly pulled his sleeve back down, covering the scar. “It wasn’t his fault,” he asserted sternly, focusing back on the highway. “I found him abandoned on the side of the road eight years ago, half-starved and obviously abused. Took him a while to trust me when I took him in is all.”
I felt my heart break in my chest at the revelation that Thane had been mistreated, but that heartache was almost immediately soothed by Derek’s second revelation. “That… that’s amazing.”
There those eyebrows went again, disbelief practically radiating from them – from him. How did he do that?
“Not that he bit you!” I hurried to clarify. “Or that Thane was hurt. It’s just… I mean… you saved him. That… that was really great of you,” I finished quietly.
I could tell the words made him uncomfortable by the way he shifted his shoulders, stretching out his neck. The faintest hint of red was creeping up from under his collar. “It was the decent thing to do,” he muttered.
I couldn't help but think of my own situation and how Derek had taken me in. I snorted, redirecting my gaze to my lap.
“Do you make it a habit of taking in strays then?” I teased lightly.
When I glanced back up at him, I was surprised to find his eyes on me, intensity oozing from the green orbs. “No,” he said after a moment, a strange sort of finality to it. “No, I don’t.” Then, frowning – like he’d somehow revealed too much with that simple answer – he refocused his eyes back on the road.
Derek’s eyes remained that way – permanently attached to the windshield – the rest of the way to the store, and I didn’t try to make more conversation. The silence was comfortable enough, and I was too busy analyzing his answer – as short and concise as it was – to concentrate on much else.
I had already known he didn’t do this a lot, of course. It was obvious enough by his mannerisms that hovered somewhere between anti-social and outright rude. Not to mention the vibe that practically rolled off him in waves – the one that screamed “leave me alone”.
So why was he helping me then? Letting me live with him even. It didn’t make any sense for a private person like Derek to offer the sanctuary of his home to a stranger.
I should just ask.
Part of me wanted to open my mouth and do just that, right then. But what if he took the question to somehow mean I wasn’t grateful? Worse, what if he muttered some crap about how he felt some obligation towards me. “It was the decent thing to do.” I cringed.
But what if he said something else entirely?
Like what? a voice demanded sarcastically. That he fell madly in love with you the moment he saw you lying half-drowned in the river and that he had to find some way to have you in his life?
Even I wasn’t that deluded.
Thankfully, I was distracted from my thoughts by the appearance of a new town – we’d driven past Pine Ridge close to a half-hour ago. Beacon Falls wasn’t quite as small as Pine Ridge, but we still only had to go through one roundabout and one stop light before turning into the parking lot of a store.
I stared blankly at the giant sign as Derek parked, the huge white lettering proudly declaring the giant shopping center as a Wal-Mart.
A strange nervousness settled in my stomach as I took in the large building. Almost like I was doing something wrong by being here. Which was ridiculous. It was a Wal-Mart.
“What?”
I blinked, realizing I’d been staring apprehensively at the store for close to a minute. “Nothing,” I immediately denied.
And there those eyebrows went again. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been to a Wal-Mart before?” Derek drawled.
I huffed. “How am I supposed to know?” I tapped the side of my head with my index finger. “This baby isn’t exactly functioning at maximum capacity, remember?”
A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “How could I forget? I’m not the one with a memory problem.”
I bulked at the almost… light-hearted?... teasing, slightly offended, but mostly ridiculously pleased. I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to pout but failing miserably. The dopey smile I could feel tugging at my mouth absolutely ruined the mock glare I was attempting to send Derek’s way.
Not that he had the decency to acknowledge it, or even wait for me to reply before he was stepping out of his truck, slamming the door, and walking towards the entrance of the store.
“H-hey!” I sputtered, unbuckling my seat belt with clumsy fingers before hopping out of the truck and taking off across the parking lot to catch him. “Wait for me!”
I caught him half-way across the lot – he was ignoring my very real glare now – and I walked with him through the automatic sliding doors, smoothing down the wrinkles on the shirt I was wearing and trying not to feel self-conscious in the bizarre outfit I was dressed in.
It consisted of an old high-school t-shirt that I’m sure was short-sleeved on Derek but drooped down to the elbows on me, and a pair of khaki shorts that Derek said hadn’t fit him in a decade but hung dangerously low on my hips – held up only by safety pins and sheer power of will as no belt he owned would fit me.
“Grab a cart,” Derek instructed blandly as he took one for himself.
I obeyed, following him into the store and trying not to be intimidated by the sheer size of the place, but feeling my eyes widen regardless. It wasn’t overly crowded, but people were meandering about everywhere, checking out fresh fruit in the produce section, holding clothes up to their bodies in the clothing section that was right by it, which… weird.
Maybe I really hadn’t been in a Wal-Mart before, as ludicrous as the idea seemed. Why else would I be feeling so intimidated by the various signs and balloons cluttered everywhere, declaring “clearance”, “sale”, and “half-price”.
I was a little dazed by the enormity of it all, tensing when a large, warm hand suddenly settled on the small of my back. That tension fled a moment later, however, when I realized the heavy limb belonged to Derek. Ignoring the way it felt like his palm was burning a hole through my shirt, I allowed him to lead me to the women’s clothing section.
I tried not to grieve his hand’s absence when it disappeared a moment later. “How long do you think it’ll take you to get everything?”
I glanced around, trying to think of all the things I needed. “I don't know. Probably about an hour or so?”
Derek nodded. “Alright. Meet me back here in an hour then.”
Oh.
He had to get his own things. Which made sense. I mean, it would have been silly to think the entire trip was for me. “Okay. Sounds good,” I said, trying to sound chipper despite the anxiety I could feel swirling in my belly at the prospect of being left alone in an unfamiliar place with strangers roaming about everywhere.
Derek frowned like he could sense my unease behind the brightness of my smile. “Okay.”
I nodded, feeling awkwardness beginning to descend. “Okay.”
Derek hesitated for a moment, almost like he didn’t want to leave before shaking his head with a sigh. “One hour,” he reminded me briskly before walking away, soon disappearing into the grocery section of the store.
I stood there for a moment, unsure where to start before reaching forward and hesitantly examining a red halter dress. The fabric of the dress felt light-weight and silky between my fingers, and I admired the gold, threaded fabric that made up the straps. They looked like they were meant to be tied around the back of the neck and matched the gold belt that hung around the dress’s cinched waist perfectly.
The price tag shocked me. The dress was less than thirty dollars.
Ultimately, though, I couldn’t bring myself to try it on, let alone put it in my cart. After all, Derek had volunteered to buy me the bare essentials, not whatever struck my fancy.
I had a hard time accepting charity as it was. I’m guessing that was why Derek had half-expected me to put up a fight when he’d suggested shopping the night before, but even I knew I couldn’t afford to refuse. (Even if a tiny part of me relished wearing his clothes, it wasn’t exactly practical.)
And neither was the dress.
With that in mind, I turned away from the silky garb and focused my attention on some folded shirts that were on sale. I picked out three: a navy-blue V-neck, a dark green shirt with three-quarter sleeves and a scoop neck, and a light pink shirt with a tiny pocket over the left breast. I also grabbed a couple tank tops, two pairs of leggings, one pair of jean capris, and a handful of athletic shorts that looked like they stopped mid-thigh.
From there, I perused the shelves and hangers to find a jacket on clearance before grabbing a package of colorful ankle socks, two bundles of plain Hanes underwear, and a few bras. Then I turned my attention to the footwear section, picking out the cheapest pair of tennis shoes I could find along with a pair of black flip-flops I wouldn’t have to worry about getting dirty.
Once that was finished, I wandered around until I found the personal hygiene isles. I picked out a toothbrush, some deodorant, a package of pink razors, and a box of tampons, but bypassed the soap and shampoo, knowing that Derek already had those items covered. I couldn’t resist snatching up a pack of hair bands and a new hairbrush, though, secretly looking forward to replacing the pink-handled comb I’d found in his bathroom the morning before.
The pharmacy was located right next to the personal items, and I only hesitated a moment before grabbing a container of Tylenol and Midol and putting them in my cart, suspecting they would probably come in handy.
My eyes scanned the rest of the shelves, lingering over the EpiPens and anti-allergy medications. I wondered if I had any deadly allergies. I didn't think so, but how could I be sure? What about birth control? Was I on that? Or any other medications that I was supposed to take daily? What if I had type 1 diabetes and was missing my insulin injections? Or what if…?
My thoughts were quickly spiraling out of control, and attempting to put a lid on the panic I could feel building in my stomach, I turned away from the shelves of medication, hurrying back to the women’s clothing section.
It was probably time to meet Derek, anyway. It was hard to tell for sure; there wasn’t a clock in the Wal-Mart. I imagined people could lose hours shopping here.
What if you’re already late?
The thought sprung up suddenly, but the worry that accompanied it was completely valid.
I didn't think Derek would leave me stranded here, but I couldn’t be sure. I had already caused him a whole boatload of trouble, after all.
Thankfully, my fear of abandonment quickly dissipated when I spotted him waiting for me between the displays of women’s clothes and the nearly deserted registers. The pinched expression on his face disappeared as soon as his eyes landed on me, and I wondered if he had been worried that I would disappear.
I think my brain would have to completely malfunction to pull a stupid stunt like that, but I guess I wouldn’t be surprised if Derek didn’t put it past me. I hadn’t exactly made the best first impression in the world, what with washing up unconscious along the river, hitchhiking down the highway, and then fainting. All within a few days of each other.
I winced, imagining what he thought of me.
“Hey,” I offered cheerfully, rolling my cart up to his, attempting to shake off the embarrassment.
He didn’t return my greeting, instead focusing his attention on my cart, or the contents of it, anyway. I’d tried to be considerate of his wallet when I’d filled it, but what if he thought I was taking advantage of his generosity?
You already are, a nasty voice whispered in the back of my mind.
Acutely aware of the frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, my hands fluttered at my sides as I fought the sudden urge to hurriedly put everything back where I found it.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “Here, I’ll just-”
“Is this everything?” he demanded abruptly.
I couldn’t stop myself from worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. “Um… yes?”
My eyes drifted over to Derek’s cart. There wasn’t much in it, just a few groceries: two jugs of milk, some flour, a few spices. There were also two giant bags of dog food, and a large, industrial-sized bottle of sunscreen.
I couldn’t stop an involuntary grin from tugging at the corner of my mouth at the sight of the last item, suspecting he had grabbed it with me in mind.
“Get more.”
I blinked, quickly redirecting my gaze back at Derek. “What?”
“This won’t even last you a month. Get more.”
A whole month? He really did mean to take me in. Gratefulness burned brightly in my chest, and yet…
“But what if even after I remember who I am, I can’t pay you back?”
Worse… what if I never remembered?
“I never said you had to.”
“…What?”
Derek raised an eyebrow. “I never said you had to pay me back,” he repeated, annunciating the words slowly like he was talking to a very young child.
I pressed my lips together. “Yes, I heard you the first time, but… I mean, of course I’ll strive to-”
“What about this?” he asked, cutting me off. I frowned, knowing intrinsically that he was attempting to distract me. Or maybe just shut me up. (Probably both.) He was looking at the red summer dress with gold accents that I’d been eyeing before. “This would look good on you.”
My entire body flushed, from the tips of my ears to my toes. “I… I don’t k-know...” I stammered.
Derek seemed to have realized what he said a moment too late, jerkily averting his gaze. “Just… pick out more,” he muttered, sticking his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “We don’t have all day.”
I got the dress.