Lillian

When the police arrive, he’s long gone. My heart has calmed down, but my mind hasn’t. And as the police officer approaches the door, my entire body feels constricted. As if I can’t breathe or move a limb.

“Hello, ma’am.” The police officer tips his hat. “You called for an intruder on your property?”

I nod, but I don’t feel like I’m even here. I feel as though I’m there off in the distance … with him.

I wonder where he went. If he’ll try to come back.

If I’d be able to resist when he does.

“Ma’am?” the police officer repeats.

“Um … yes, I did,” I mutter, trying to pull myself back together. “It was a homeless man, I think. But he’s gone now.” I clear my throat as the man narrows his eyes at me. He must think I’m losing my shit. A homeless man in the middle of nowhere? Yeah, right.

“You’re sure he’s gone?” he asks, cocking his head to peek inside. He’s probably trying to find out if I’m being forced to say that. Or maybe if I’m being held at gunpoint.

I wish I had that excuse. How pitiful.

“Yeah,” I reply casually as if it’s nothing.

“Ma’am, is there anything else I can do?” he asks, still eyeing me as if I’m hiding something. Or maybe he truly thinks I’m being held hostage.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. He’s gone. We’re fine.” I open the door. “See?”

He gazes around. “All right,” he says, nodding.

“Sorry I called,” I add. “I was a bit panicky, but we’re good now.”

“Don’t you worry about that, ma’am. We’ve got you covered.” He winks as he turns around. “But it’d better not be a prank call.”

“No, no,” I say, laughing it off like it’s no big deal even when it is.

As he walks off, the little voice inside my head wants to tell him to stop and turn around, but I don’t. Not until he’s gotten back into his car and driven off do I feel like I can breathe again.

I shut my eyes and let out a sigh, closing the door.

I don’t know why I didn’t tell that police officer the truth.

Maybe a part of me still believes there’s a possibility …

No.

I can’t ever think like that. Ever.

I turn around and immediately shriek. Daisy’s right in front of me. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, honey,” I say, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Sorry,” she replies. “Who was that man?”

“A police officer,” I answer, smiling as I bend over. “He was just checking on us.”

“No, I mean the other man, Mommy.”

I blink a couple of times. My feet are frozen to the ground.

I swallow away the lump in my throat and look through the window, wondering if we’ll ever see him again. “No one, honey. No one at all.”

* * *

Hanson

“Next,” the cashier says, and I put down the sandwich, a newspaper, and a card.

It’s one with little purple stars on them and a pink moon, and on the inside, it makes a sound when it’s opened. It’s expensive but worth every penny.

“That’ll be seven thirty.”

I fish some coins out of my pocket and place them down. There goes all my money. Well, not all of it, but it still feels like an arm and a leg for the sandwich, a newspaper, and a card. I don’t make much these days. Not with my reputation. I gotta do the odd jobs—the random delivery jobs where you don’t even know what you’re carrying around—but they pay, so I do it. Gotta earn a living somehow.

The cashier snatches away my money as he looks at me with contempt.

They always do. They being everyone who’s not native.

I don’t mind it anymore because I’m used to it. I ignore them like they ignore me. It’s best that way.

I grab my stuff and am walking toward the exit when I notice an older woman with her hair tied in a knot and a strange yellow scarf staring at a newspaper. She turns her head, and our eyes lock. She blinks her eyes a couple of times, and then her face turns white as if she’s seen a ghost. One glance at the newspaper is all I need.

Fuck.

I rush out of the store, pulling up my zipper to hide at least my mouth inside my jacket. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do. I should buy a cap and sunglasses … and maybe a wig too.

I didn’t think they’d still be running my story after all this time, but I guess an escape never goes unnoticed. I don’t have any plans to get caught, though, so I quickly get inside my truck and slam the door shut, then start the engine.

One thing’s for sure, though; that woman recognized my face from that photo.

Here’s to hoping I won’t ever see her again because I’m pretty sure she’s going to call the cops.

I gotta be careful, especially around these parts, and especially after she called the cops on me at the farm. She surprised me with that one. Then again … of course that’s what she’d do, knowing what I did.

My soul is stained, and I live with the consequences every day. I can’t ever forget that even though I’d like to sometimes. You never know who’s your friend and who’s your foe when you’re someone like me.

A fugitive who’s escaped prison.

So after throwing a final dirty glance at the old lady still staring me down from inside the store, I hit the gas and drive off. Another place I can cross off my list as safe.

* * *

Lillian

The light of the moon guides me across my yard to the barn. I slide open the wooden doors and walk inside on bare feet. The hay feels warm under my toes as I turn on the small light to my left, illuminating the barn.

In the middle on a bale of hay sits a man.

It’s him. In the flesh. And he’s completely naked.

I try to swallow, but my throat feels clamped shut. Still, my heart can’t help flutter.

“You came,” he says, lifting himself up. He stands tall. Proud. Wide-legged. Unafraid to show what he’s got to offer, and boy, is it a lot.

Jesus. My mind is trailing off fast.

My eyes try to avoid the dick dangling between his legs, but it’s difficult not to look as he’s approaching me. Hard not to look at his hard-on.

“I’ve waited so long,” he says, his voice sultry, thick with desire.

I lick my lips at the sight of his rippling muscles and v-line as he traps me against the wooden door. I hold my breath as he leans in and takes a whiff of my scent. His musky, testosterone-laden smell fills my nostrils and makes me feel dizzy with lust.

God, what I wouldn’t give for that man to touch me. To have a taste and not feel guilty.

A coarse hand slides through my hair and down my neck to my chest. He’s barely avoiding my breasts as if he’s tempted but not quite convinced he should.

“I missed you,” he says, and an arrogant smile follows.

Three words that completely undo me.

My lips part, but I can’t get the words out of my mouth. I don’t know what to say, so I opt for nothing at all. His smile is infectious even when it shouldn’t be.

He shouldn’t be here. We shouldn’t do this. It’s wrong. Forbidden.

Yet I need to. I must.

After all this time, I need to know.

So when he leans in to plant his lips on mine, I don’t back away. I don’t fight him off. I let him kiss me. I let him touch me, grab me by the waist, and shove me against the door. The wood pokes my skin just like his length as he nudges up against me, making me feel how badly he wants me.

I can hear it in his groans.

Feel it in the way he gropes my ass.

Licks my tongue.

Fuck. Me.

Suddenly, my eyes burst open, and I’m no longer in the old barn under the dirty light. I’m in my bed with my sheets completely soaked.

And my clit is thumping.

Fuck.

Now I feel even filthier than I felt in my dreams.

The morning sun greets me, reminding me of my duty. My reality.

I sigh and throw the blankets off, yawning with annoyance. Time to take a really long cold shower.