CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Chase

There was a sense of foreboding in the air when I opened my eyes that morning. I knew my day was not going to go well. It was just one of those things a person could feel in their bones. Madison had been a cold fish since we walked in the door yesterday. I don't know if she said more than five words to me. Last night, she had gone to bed without saying a word. I knew she didn't want me in there, so I stayed on the couch. She never came looking for me, so I knew then my assumption had been correct.

She was pissed. I snapped at her yesterday, and I shouldn't have. I had apologized last night, but it didn't appear to matter. Initially, I thought she would sleep it off, but as I lay there on the couch, a small kink in my neck, I knew better.

Madison was not the type of woman who would sleep anything off.

I got up and made coffee. We didn't have bacon, which made me very nervous. Bacon could be the make or break point with her. I could woo her with bacon. I checked the bread box and decided to whip up some French toast. That had to do the trick—I hoped.

I heard rustling from the room and decided to bite the bullet.

“Hey,” I said, popping my head in the door of the room.

I froze when I saw what she was doing.

“Madison?” I said quietly.

She didn't answer me.

“Madison, what are you doing?”

Without stopping. “Packing.”

“Why? Why are you packing? It's Wednesday. I thought you were here until Saturday.”

I knew I sounded like a petulant child, but I couldn't stop myself. I was panicking.

“I'm leaving.”

My feelings and pleas were not going to help here, so I relied on reason and experience.

“Madison, look outside.”

She walked to the bedroom window. “Fuck!”

It had started snowing last night, and it didn't show any signs of stopping.

“Why are you leaving?” I asked in a soft voice.

“Because you're a liar. I know you’re lying about something, but you won't tell me. You want to fuck me. You want me to live here in Colorado, but you won't tell me what deep, dark secret you have that keeps you up here living like a hermit.”

I had enough.

“Madison, why do you think I owe you a complete background history on myself? I haven't pestered you about what you did ten years ago or grilled you about every detail of your life. Can't you accept that in this particular situation, it is just none of your business?”

She spun around, her hands on her hips and shot me with such a violent glare, I stepped back into the hallway.

“Really? I am living in your house! You have asked me to stay repeatedly. Do you honestly think I am one of those naive women who shacks up with any random stranger?”

“No. I don't, but I think you know me well enough to know if you’re safe here or not,” I rationalized.

“Ha! I'm sure that's what all those women thought before they were murdered in their own beds. I'm sure they probably thought their boyfriend or the hot guy they took home from the bar was totally safe. I am not a victim, nor do I want to be a statistic,” she seethed.

I raised an eyebrow. “Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?”

“No!”

I stood there, not wanting to continue arguing over something so ridiculous. I wasn't an ax murderer or some crazy guy who beat women. She had to know that.

“Chase, just tell me,” she pleaded. “I want to know you. All of you. There is something in your past, and I think, if we’re going to have a relationship, I deserve to know. If it’s big enough to cause that much drama yesterday, it’s big enough that I need to know. I can feel you holding back. I've not hidden anything about myself from you. I'm an open book. Maybe I'm a little boring, but I have no secrets,” she said, her voice breaking.

I inhaled and then slowly exhaled. I wanted to tell her. It was killing me not to tell her, but I couldn't. I didn't know where to start or how to explain what I had done. I was terrified she wouldn't understand and leave me for good, never looking back.

“I can't,” I said in a whisper.

The look of disappointment and sadness on her face crushed me.

“I'm going to go for a walk. I need to get more wood, and blow a path in the snow to the woodshed,” I said, anxious to get away from her knowing and hurt gaze.

She didn't say anything but sat down on the edge of the bed. I couldn't look at her. The shame was too great.

The cold air helped give me clarity. I fired up the snow blower and began the tedious task of making long sweeps back and forth to create a wide path to the driveway and the woodshed. The vibrating machine in my hands was soothing. It helped me think, even if I didn't want to think about the mess I’d created.

My thoughts were on Madison the entire time. All I could think about was how much I loved being with her. It was cheesy, but I truly felt like she completed me. She made me feel whole. I had been an empty shell the past few months, going through the day to day but not really enjoying or living life. With her, I felt alive.

It had been close to two hours since I had walked out of the cabin. I was cold and ready to face the music. The snow had steadily increased, making the path I had worked so hard to create almost non-existent. I knew when I was defeated and gave up.

Before heading back in, I popped open the door to the small shed which acted as a root cellar of sorts. It was built into the side of a dirt hill, which kept everything cool but insulated. I had plenty of canned food for myself and Madison if the snow kept up. We would have plenty of soup, chili, and pasta if it came down to it.

When I walked through the door, she was cleaning up the kitchen.

“Hi,” I greeted her, hoping everything was over and we could just forget about it all.

“Hi.”

I walked to her, wrapped my arms around her, and inhaled her scent. She didn't exactly greet me warmly, but she didn't push me away. I held her, appreciating the feel of her body against mine. Trying to reconcile life without her in it.

“I'm sorry,” I said. It was a blanket statement. I was sorry she was mad at me, sorry she didn't trust me, sorry the snow was trapping her in my home, and sorry we weren't screwing like rabbits. We didn't have much time left. I wanted to use every minute I could to love her body.

She shrugged but didn't accept my apology.

“It's really coming down out there. I have a feeling it's going to be snowing for a while. I've been so caught up with everything, I didn't bother to check the weather,” I told her, trying to make conversation.

“Yeah, me too,” she replied in a monotone voice.

She was giving me no quarter. This was a woman dead set on being pissed at me.

“Did you want to talk?” I asked, hoping she would say no.

She stepped back. “Did you want to tell me what you've been hiding from me?”

I took a deep breath. “I can't, Madison. Will you please trust me on this? Give me some time?”

Once again, she looked as if I had crushed her soul. Her normally bright blue eyes had lost some of their shine. I could see the strain on her face as she looked from me to the big window in the living room. She was upset she couldn't leave.

“That's too bad, Chase. I guess I thought you would trust me enough to tell me. I was wrong. I should have known all of this was too good to be true,” she said in a low voice.

“Madison, isn't what we have enough? You know how I feel about you, and I know how you feel about me. We’re great together. Please, don't let this one little thing destroy what we have,” I begged.

My pleas fell on deaf ears. She didn't want to hear it.

“I can't leave. I get that. I won't risk my life again trying to get out of here. But, I don't want to talk to you or see you. Please, leave me alone.”

My mouth dropped open. Her words stung. I felt as if I had been shot with several arrows, right into my chest. My heart ached. She spun around on her foot, headed for my room, slammed the door, and I heard the lock click.

Holy hell. What had just happened? Did she seriously lock herself in my room as if I was holding her as a prisoner? I didn't like that at all. I had pushed her too far. The whole idea of not telling her was to protect myself and preserve our relationship. That was clearly not working. I had successfully ended it with my silence. I could feel that. She was lost to me if I didn't tell her the truth and likely lost to me if I did.

Only one option gave me a chance. She was a reasonable woman. I knew she cared for me. Maybe, just maybe, she would accept me for who I was today and not who I was seven years ago. She’d put up with Mark for a long time, so she was clearly a tolerant woman. I had not mistreated her, which was a point in my favor as far as I was concerned.

Would she tolerate my past? I flopped down on the couch and allowed myself to wallow in my misery for a bit. If only I could go back to that day. Would I do anything differently if it meant I could have Madison? I didn't know.

My heart ached at the thought of her leaving. I would tell her. My mind was made up, but I wasn't about to do it right now. That would be like stepping into the den of a very hungry, angry lion. I needed to give her some time to chill. When she was calm, I would explain everything. If she still wanted to leave, I would find a way to get her to town, so she could get to the airport. No way was I going to add kidnapping to my rap sheet.

I stretched out on the couch and closed my eyes for a bit. I didn't want to be awake and thinking about my life. I could hear her murmuring in my bedroom. She must be on the phone. Probably arranging for a way out of Colorado and far away from me.