Chapter 19

Caleb woke suddenly, disoriented.

He'd been dreaming again, anxiety stalking him even in his unconscious mind. Although he couldn't remember the particulars of the dream, he knew it was similar to the ones that had haunted him for weeks. Always he was with her, his beloved Danielle, and always it ended badly.

He was forced to watch her violated by faceless men. Worse still, they made him look on while they strangled her, while the light vanished from her eyes.

Then he did it himself.

He'd wrapped his big hands around her delicate neck and squeezed until the life faded from her face, leaving only a twisted smile.

Now he sat breathing heavily and pushing the specters of his nightmare away from him.

Dani lay beside him, her legs entwined with his own, her face relaxed in slumber. How easy it would be to slip back down beside her, to pull her into his arms and find oblivion one more time in her sweet and generous body.

Caleb had never met a woman like Dani before. She was beautiful, insightful, with a keen sense of humor as well as a quick temper that kept him on his toes. But all these things could not compare to her compassion, to her generosity of spirit.

As a boy, Caleb had longed for love and affection. He would have settled for attention. But he received none of these things. Instead of familial attachment, he was ignored.

The only time his parents bothered with him was when they wanted something. Caleb had fetched and carried. He'd cleaned the house, done laundry, and even attempted to cook when there was food in the fridge. He'd held his mother's hair when she'd thrown up for hours after a particularly heavy binge. He'd even scraped up the money to bail his father out of jail after a neighbor had called the cops on him after an exceptionally vicious fight between his parents. Despite all he'd done for them, they never once showed him they cared.

In just a few short weeks, this woman had penetrated his ancient defenses. She'd scaled his walls and dropped inside, spreading warmth to soothe his frozen soul. He remembered how she'd invited him into her body, even though he was an asshole who promised her nothing in return. And she'd listened to him as he spilled his demons onto her lap, and not once had she judged him.

The little professor had even come after him when the illegal mining operation's security team had caught him. She'd come up with the plan they needed to recover his phone, and she'd even managed to call for help. She did all this for him, and never once did she ask for anything in return. Instead, she gave him all of herself, unreservedly. It was truly remarkable.

Caleb wished to God that he could accept her selfless gift. He certainly returned her feelings. He loved this woman more than anything, more than breathing. But he wouldn't wish his love on his worst enemy.

His love was dangerous.

He couldn't control himself, not when it came to her. Not during their passionate encounters, and not when someone threatened her.

For now, his rage was focused outwards, focused on assholes like the Chief and his goons, on jerks like Dean Fischer. But would it always stay that way? Or was it possible that, as the years passed, it would shift not away from her but toward her, until his hands were wrapped around her throat in reality and not just his nightmares?

Perhaps it was inevitable. He was scarred, broken. She deserved better. She deserved someone who could keep her safe from the assholes and jerks of the world. She needed someone who could keep her safe from himself.

Caleb glanced at the clock on the bedside and saw that it was only an hour before dawn. Soon the light would come through her large windows and illuminate the bedroom. It was possible she would wake then, and if he saw the love in her eyes again, he knew he wouldn't be able to resist it. He would cave, selfishly, and bind this woman to him, whatever the risks, whatever the costs.

He couldn't let that happen. He wouldn't.

Slowly he slid across the bed and rose, padding from the room as silently as possible to hunt down his clothing.

He dressed, smiling when he tried to button his shirt and remembering that its buttons were now scattered around the living room floor. Looking around him in the dim light that came through the window from the lamppost outside, he saw elements of Dani all around him.

Books were piled on shelves, in stacks on the floor, on every end table and open surface. The walls were covered in tasteful abstract paintings, their bright colors and patterns a nice complement to the clean lines and simplicity of her other furnishings. Like the woman herself, her apartment was full of contradictions.

Caleb tiptoed back into the bedroom to stare down at Dani one last time. She was like an addiction, an obsession. It hurt to stand so close to her and not touch.

He knew in that moment that he would never be able to forget her, he would never let go of the love he felt for her. That knowledge made him consider his future. He couldn't risk seeing her again. Leaving now was already the hardest thing he'd ever do. He wouldn't be able to do it again.

He barely resisted the temptation to bend down and kiss her, to stroke her soft skin one last time. Instead, he turned and walked out of her room, out of her house, out of her life.

As he climbed into his truck and started it, he felt like his world was ending. It was as if he were trapped in stone, his body becoming a fossil that would never feel again.

He figured it was better this way, to numb himself from the pain. He hoped it wouldn't take eons, but he kind of thought that it likely would.

There was only one possible solution. He was an addict, and she was his addiction. He had to quit cold turkey. But he couldn't do that, not if he knew there was a chance of running across her again. It would require a complete severing of all ties. He'd have to pick up stakes, move on and leave Oregon behind.

It was the only way to make sure he stayed away from her.

Dawn was painting the sky in rosy strokes by the time he hit the coastal highway. Caleb ignored the breathtaking scenery, his mind on the night before. The memories were like precious artifacts, which he lovingly stored away to be pulled out each night, each day, in the solemn hours he spent alone with his thoughts.

At last, he pulled up the long driveway that led to Brice's beach house. He would grab a few hours of shut eye, then pack his things and head up to Portland to hand in his resignation at the Forestry Service. It would be the first step on the road to a new life. A life lived on the memories of a handful of moments with the most incredible woman he'd ever known.