CHAPTER FOUR
Gray
The snow continued to come down outside, the wind howling like we were in some type of nightmare. Or like some reverse hell that was made of ice instead of fire.
Checking the goddess’s pulse and respiration, my fingers lingered on her throat for too long. I forced them away, refusing to touch her inappropriately while she was asleep. She groaned, her face pinching as if she was in great pain, but she didn’t wake. Soon, her breathing was steady again.
While she was out, I cleaned and inspected the wound on her head. It was nasty and needed stitches, but I wasn’t equipped for them. For now, I just replaced the towel with a bandage until the bleeding completely stopped, worried but simultaneously grateful that my probing didn’t wake her. She had other wounds too. Places where the limb had punctured or scraped. One was very near her right eye. A half inch higher and she might have lost her ability to see.
She was damn lucky.
Hell, I was damn lucky. I’d never have been able to forgive myself if I hadn’t been able to save her.
Flashes from two years ago hit me as they always did. Jessica on the floor. Blood everywhere. The man hovering over her limp body, a gun dangling from his fingers. Through the slits of the grotesque clown mask he wore, his eyes were lifeless and blank as he raised the gun, pointed it at me. No questions. No demands. Just bang.
Only ten minutes earlier, I’d gone out for more Halloween candy at my wife’s request. “I can’t bear the thought of turning any of their sweet faces away,” she’d said, giving me the pleading look she knew I could never resist. Kissing the tip of her nose, I left, driving the few blocks to the store, being careful of the swarm of trick-or-treaters on the sidewalk. But when I got back…
The goddess moaned again, her hand coming up to cover her eyes, and I pulled my mind from the past that haunted me incessantly. Reaching over, I snapped off the lamp on the table beside her. Gently, I tried to wake her, but she only mumbled incoherent words. Lifting her lids, I watched her eyes dilate in the light of the fire. Her pupils were still a bit uneven, but I thought she’d be okay. She had to be.
A few years ago, it would have been more concerning for her to not wake up, but studies now found it safe for concussion victims to sleep. Still, it wasn’t like I could do anything either way. We were stuck here for days, or possibly weeks. We couldn’t get out, and no one could get in. We were completely on our own, and we’d just have to deal with whatever medical or other emergencies we faced.
Heaving out a breath, I stood to pace the cabin. At least eighteen inches had fallen so far, the snow combining with layers of ice to make everything even more treacherous. The power flickered, and I knew it wouldn’t stay on much longer, not with so much ice on the lines.
Sitting at my computer, I tapped the mouse to wake it up. I wasn’t surprised to see that the internet was down, even with the signal booster I’d installed. My eyes went to the folder. Her folder. I still couldn’t believe the chain of events that had brought the woman I’d been watching over, worrying over, into my cabin.
It had been close. Too damn close.
The moment I’d found the spot where she’d gone over the side, I could hear the tree cracking under the weight of the Jeep, the loud pops sounding like gunshots over the noise of the storm. With zero time, I’d abandoned the repelling gear, going for the faster but less safe rope. As I climbed down, I could see her pushing at the driver door, but the weight of gravity and the limb puncturing the vehicle was making the task difficult.
I was still pulling her out as the vehicle tried to suck her down. For a horrible moment, her glove came off in my hand. I’d always remember the way she cried out, begging me to not let her go, her pale green eyes looking up at me in complete terror.
Somehow, I managed to hold on. Managed to get her out. Managed to save her. Finally managed to do something right.
Clicking on the folder, I knew I needed to do another thing right. Dragging her images to the little trash can, I let it go, watching it disappear. I should have done that weeks ago. Hell, I shouldn’t have ever taken them in the first place. I wouldn’t disrespect her like that again.
The goddess moaned, and I shut down the computer and walked back to the sofa. Just looking at her was a punch in the gut. Even after all she’d just gone through, there was something so incredibly breathtaking about her. Not for the first time, I wondered who she was.
And who was missing her right now.
Her family? A man? The thought caused my teeth to grit together, especially if it was the same man who made her cry with such desperation when she first arrived next door.
She wore no jewelry, so there was no telltale sign that she was in a relationship. She also wore no makeup or even nail polish. No fancy style to her hair. Her clothes were simple. Jeans, boots, sweater. Cotton underwear. Nothing fancy there either.
Why did someone so lovely do her best to play down the way she looked? Hide out in the remote wilderness of the mountains? She was fascinating. From the first moment I glimpsed her on her deck, I’d been drawn to her. Even in her current state, my curiosity and attraction hadn’t waned. Neither had the intense urge to protect her.
The lights flickered again, then were gone completely, leaving only the fire to light the room.
I wasn’t worried. I had the generator out back if I needed it. Two fireplaces and plenty of wood. We’d be alright.
We.
For the past two years, I’d only thought of “we” as Maggie and me. It was odd to have another person added into that simple word.
I hadn’t meant to become so permanently isolated. At first, I just needed to get away from the spotlight shining down on me after Jessica’s death. The trial. The cameras always in my face. The moment it was all over, I found this cabin for sale and then bought up as much of the surrounding property as I could. Running it through the many layers of my corporations guaranteed privacy from prying eyes and many questions. The rumors. True and false.
One month turned into two, then an entire year had gone by. I’d never move back to New York and couldn’t think of any other place that captured my interest. Besides, I liked it here. I liked the peace of living at my own pace, of dictating my own schedule. But most of all, I liked not having anyone depend on me.
Not like the woman lying on my sofa depended on me now.
Pulling my eyes away from her, I stood and walked over to the window. Maggie’s nails clicked across the wood as she came to stand beside me, her cold nose pressing into my hand. She whined, a sure signal she needed the ladies’ room.
I groaned, both for her and for me. “You sure you want to go out in this, girl? Might be a good day to learn to use the toilet.”
She whined again, more urgently this time, and I could almost imagine her crossing her legs. She leaned against me, looking up with soulful brown eyes that seemed to say, Please.
I smiled down at her. If only people were like good old dogs.
“All right, girl. If you can take it, so can I.”
Pulling on my boots and coat, I clipped a leash to Maggie’s collar before stuffing my hands back into thick gloves. Normally, I’d let her roam and find the perfect spot to do her business. Not tonight. It was still officially early evening by the clock but the world outside was as dark as midnight. The blizzard hadn’t lessened so I wanted to keep Maggie close, not take the chance she could get lost in the storm.
Now nine years old, I’d adopted the senior dog at the animal shelter after thinking I’d gone there for a pup. Her calm presence kept drawing me back to her cage, those big eyes seeming to see right through me. When I learned she was on the kill list and wouldn’t make it past the weekend, the decision was made. Those eyes would have haunted me if I hadn’t gone back for her.
“Want to come home with me?” I’d asked her through the bars.
In response, she gave me a single lick on my hand.
I took that as a yes, and in less than an hour, she was mine. I hadn’t regretted choosing her — or her choosing me — for a single moment. She wasn’t just good company. She was family.
On the porch, Maggie seemed to have second thoughts. I didn’t blame her. The snow covered up the bottom three steps leading to where we stood. With a chest-heaving sigh, she jumped. The big brown dog landed neck deep, then looked up at me with an expression that clearly read, help.
I laughed and started shoveling, and she waited patiently as I created a path that seemed to fill up as fast as I could dig it out. After she did her thing, she diligently covered it up with piles and piles of the white stuff, and I looked toward the garage, wondering if I should start the generator after all. If it was just me and Mag in the cabin, I’d make do with what I had, but the goddess…
Hell, I didn’t know what she’d need or expect.
All the appliances and hot water ran on propane, so the basics would be taken care of. The lights and most other things that plugged into an outlet would be down.
When a burst of wind nearly knocked my six-four frame sideways, that answered my question. It was time to go back inside.
“Let’s go, girl.”
But instead of heading back up the stairs, her ears perked up, her entire body growing tense. When she barked, I tried to find what had drawn her attention. Maggie hardly ever barked. She was the very definition of a laid-back dog.
She looked up at me and barked again before bounding forward, pulling on her leash, her body carrying an urgency that was unfamiliar. She barked again before giving me a look that said, Hey, dumbass, let me go.
Tromping behind her, I kept her leash tightly fisted in my hand. Maggie leaped over the snow, almost as spry as a puppy again. She yanked, urging me to go faster as we went around the side of the house.
For an instant, I wished I’d brought my shotgun. I couldn’t hear the howl of wolves or the crashing lumber of a bear, and surely my dog had enough sense to not drag me into that kind of fight, but a weapon would have been useful.
Then I heard it. Over the wind, there was a little squeaking sound coming from the side of the cabin, but I could see nothing in the darkness. Pulling a flashlight from my pocket, I searched the area where Maggie was digging furiously, then fell to my knees to help her.
Well, shit.
I felt it before I could see it, mostly because it blended in with everything else. A kitten, snowball white, tiny squeaks coming from its throat. It was hunkered in a nook at the base of the chimney, which was probably the only thing that had allowed it to live this long under these conditions.
It hissed and swiped when Maggie nudged it with her nose. The gentle dog gave me a surprised and somewhat insulted look when it landed a blow, but like the champ she was, took another swipe as she attempted to pick the spitting creature up with her mouth.
“I got this,” I assured Maggie and was glad to be wearing gloves to escape the claws of the frightened animal. The kitten fought for just a few moments before giving up and snuggling inside my coat.
“Great, two strays in one day.”
Maybe the universe was trying to tell me something.
Tromping back to the house, Maggie kept jumping at my side, trying to inspect our new houseguest.
“Guest,” I stressed to the dog. “Not a permanent resident.”
I wasn’t a fan of cats and their sketchy behavior. Jessica had loved them but sneezed her head off any time she came within twenty yards of one, so I didn’t have to learn to live with their manic personalities. And I didn’t know shit about kittens except that cats could be in heat from spring to fall. Since it was now mid-October, this one must have been in one of the last batches of the season.
I looked around and listened for additional squeaks, wondering where its mother was and if the other kittens were okay. Damn, I was going soft. Since Maggie would alert me to any additional intruders, I could only assume this little guy was on his own.
Back in the house, I grew softer still when my eyes went immediately to the goddess. Then I hardened them. Hardened my heart. Hardened everything except the one thing I wouldn’t be needing. My dick. That part of my body needed to behave itself.
This stray was temporary too, I reminded myself.
The snow would melt and the goddess would leave.
She wasn’t mine to keep.
And she was better off that way.