“Emmalia, this makes no sense.”
“I really hate that name.”
“Emmalia?”
“Yeah. When I came up with the idea to join the convent, I needed to change my name, so I came up with Emmalia. Emmalia Bradford. I found some skeezy dude in Chicago to create fake ID’s for me. A birth certificate and passport. He even had a way of getting me a bona fide social security number. Then I had him forge a baptismal certificate for me. He said that was the first time he’d ever been asked to do that, but I needed it to get into the convent. So now I even have a legal Colorado ID under that name. Juliette doesn’t exist at all anymore. Of course, her existence was wiped away when they wiped away my family. And it kills me because I feel like I’m fading away.”
He’s sitting in the chair at his desk and he grabs and pulls me into his lap. He holds me tight as he says, “You’re not fading away. I know you’re here. Ethel knows you’re here. The people at the animal shelter know you’re here and all the other places where you spend hours volunteering. Even at the convent.”
His arms are comforting and I take solace in them for the moment. I’ve been alone for so long that for this brief period I allow myself to forget my horrid past.
My voice is muffled, my mouth pressed against his chest when I answer, “I’m tired of being Emmalia. And I’m tired of being scared. Sometimes when I go to bed, I pray that I don’t wake up.”
Hands grip my shoulders and give them a firm shake. “Don’t say that. Ever! Life is precious, Juliette. Savor every minute. Do you think your family would want you to feel this way?”
I lift my head and our mouths are mere inches apart. What would it feel like for his lips to press against mine? His eyes are so clear. A fringe of thick long lashes frame them and I have to hold myself back from touching his brows. Instead, I move my hand to my cheek.
“‘See how she leans her cheek upon her hand. O, that I were a glove upon that hand that I might touch that cheek!’”
My breath hitches when he speaks. He stares and my mouth is like sawdust. Our gazes lock and his hand covers mine.
“Romeo and Juliet,” I breathe.
He only nods. A yap from Ethel breaks our connection. Disappointment fills me, but then I should be happy for it. I’m supposedly going to be a nun. I shouldn’t be sitting on a man’s lap, wanting him to kiss me, listening to him quote Shakespeare. Guilt replaces disappointment and I bound out of my perch.
“Juliette,” Kade calls out as I practically sprint out of the room. He calls my name again, but I pay him no heed. I keep moving until I’m on the stone terrace, filling my lungs with frosty air. The freezing temperature bites into my skin but it brings some sense to me. What in the devil was I thinking? My hands dig into my hair, pulling at it. Kade is one more complication in my messed up world that I do not need. My emotions need to be even keeled, not involved with some out-of-reach man that I can never have. And besides, what purpose will it serve? My life expectancy is pretty much at its end anyway.
“Juliette, come inside. You’ll freeze out here.”
I turn to face him and now all I can see is beauty. Before, he was just another human being. Why did I allow this to happen? Why did I share my past with him? I need to leave. I’m going to have to leave Denver and the convent now, too. When I turn back around to face the yard, I see them. Shadows twist and mold with the background. They slip behind things, melting into the background. My fear notches back up so I hurry inside.
“I have to leave,” I say. I run upstairs and hear Kade’s footsteps behind me.
“You can’t leave. Not in this weather.”
“I must. They’re out there.”
“Who are they?”
“The shadows that follow me. They were in your backyard.”
He runs downstairs and outside. I can hear him. I pull on my boots and sweater, and hurry downstairs. I’m stuffing my arms into my coat when he comes back inside.
“There’s no one out there.”
“Yes, there is. You don’t know where to look for them. I can see them. I’m going to draw them away from you. I don’t want you in danger.”
“You can’t leave in this weather. There’s way too much snow for you to walk home.” He grabs me and pulls me close.
“Kade, I’ll be fine.”
“I’m going with you.”
“No! That’s exactly the point of my leaving.”
His eyes penetrate mine. My hand reaches for his cheek. “You are the best man, Kade Hart. Please, I’ll be fine.”
“Juliette, let me at least drive you.”
“Okay,” I say, resigned.
“I need to get dressed in something warmer. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he’s out of sight, I quietly slip out his front door and run in the direction of the animal shelter. He won’t drive this way to look for me. Running isn’t possible; the snow is too deep as I trudge my way through. In some places, the drifts are waist and chest high. My pants are thin and uninsulated and soon I’m freezing. This was a bad idea. Unlike most people that live here, I don’t have great outdoor gear. I’m not an outdoor enthusiast and I have no money to buy things such as that. The money that I got from the safe was used for living expenses other than the thirty five thousand the forgery expert charged for my documents. Most of my clothing is purchased from second hand stores or given to me from the other nuns. It’s ill fitting and none of it is very warm, including my coat.
I force myself to keep moving. In most places, it’s difficult to distinguish where the roads are because there is so much snow. My feet and legs are growing numb from the cold. Alarm bells start going off when I notice I’m not even close to my destination. I decide this was a crazy idea and turn around. Going back should be easier because I’ve already forged a path. The problem is I’m having difficulty moving my legs. I stumble and fall into the soft cushion of the snow. My limbs are so uncoordinated that it’s an exhausting process getting back on my feet.
Anxiety builds. My breathing is labored as I move. Left, right, left, is my mantra. I fall several more times, but it becomes nearly impossible to stay on my feet. How could this have happened so quickly? I’ve only been gone maybe fifteen minutes. Weariness takes over and all I want to do is rest. Why am I so tired? Fog settles in my brain and I allow my mind to drift. When I stumble again, I decide to rest a bit. But not for long.
A deep nasty growl alerts me. At first I think it’s a dream. But then I hear it again. I move to lift my head, but something pushes it back onto the snow. It feels as though someone’s hand is holding my head down. Next it sounds like a group of animals fighting. But they’re not animals, because the growls cease and they begin speaking in a foreign language. Then all sounds end. It becomes eerily quiet again and someone calls my name.
“Emmalia. Emmalia!”
Kade picks me up and holds me against him.
“Jesus Christ! I’ve been looking all over for you!”
“Tried to make it to the shelter,” I mumble.
“Fuck! You’re freezing. I hope you’re not hypothermic.” He moves and I close my eyes to the rhythm of him walking. I’ve no concept of anything except my skin feels like solid ice. Haziness descends over me and I know I’ll be safe for the moment in Kade’s arms.
Six — Kade
Juliette is one stubborn woman. When I find her gone, I run out in search of her. After a few blocks of nothing, I realize she must’ve gone to the animal shelter. I head in that direction and pick up on her footprints soon after.
The tiny lump of Juliette lying in the snow, unmoving, freaks the hell out of me. When I pick her up, I realize exactly how fragile she is. Those ridiculous baggy clothes she wears cover up her size. She’s about as big as a mite and weighs about as much as one too. Her coat is what someone should wear on a cool spring day, not in temps in the teens. And her pants. For fuck’s sake, they’re not even as heavy as denim. No wonder she’s like a block of ice. I need to get her into warm clothin
g, fast. And get some warm fluids into her, too.
As soon as we get to the house, I bound up the stairs and make a beeline for my bedroom, flipping on the fireplace as I enter. I grab the first warm clothes I can find—sweatshirt, sweatpants, and socks. Then I strip her out of her clothing. Off come the jacket, boots, socks, pants, and sweater. When she’s down to her bra and panties, I assess them to make sure they’re dry. They’re wet as can be. I tug them off too. Then I dress her in the sweats and pull the socks on. As soon as I’m finished, I tuck her under the covers. She’s moaning about being cold, but I know it’s the best I can do for now. I hunt for a thermometer and take her temperature. Shit. It’s ninety-six. But at least she’s not classified as hypothermic.
“Juliette. Wake up. Can you hear me?”
“Huh?”
“I’ll be right back with some hot cocoa and soup. I need to get warm liquids in you.”
As fast as I can heat them up in the microwave, I’m back with both items.
“Juliette, wake up. You need to drink this.”
She opens her eyes.
“Can you sip on this cocoa?”
“Huh?”
She looks confused.
“Sip on this.” I hold the cup while she sips. “More.” She takes more.
“Did you hear them?” she asks.
“Who.”
“Those men?”
She’s out of her head.
“No, but we can talk about it when you’re warm. Drink some more.” She does as I tell her. Soon the cup is empty and the bluish tint to her lips is fading. I wait a few minutes, allowing her mouth to cool, and take her temperature again. It’s come up to ninety-six point five. Progress!
“How do you feel?” I ask.
She looks around the room and back to me. “Your room?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“You feel good?”
“No. I’m cold.” She shivers uncontrollably as she answers.
I hand her the cup of soup and ask her if she can sip on that. Then I ask her if she likes hot tea. She says it’s okay; so I run down to make her a cup. When I get back, I ask her if she’s any better.
“A little. Can you get in here with me?”
“After you finish your soup and tea.”
“Okay.”
When she’s done, I take off my boots and jacket, because I never did when we got back here, and then my pants because they’re wet from the snow, and climb under the covers. She curls herself around me and I loop my legs around hers. “Your legs are still like ice.”
“I know,” her teeth chatter.
“I’d lie on top of you, but I’d crush you. You’re not as big as a mouse.”
“S-s-so c-c-cold.”
She trembles so hard it shakes the bed.
“Lie down, little mouse. I’m going to cover you. Tell me if I smother you.”
“K-k-k-k.”
She lies back and I cover her body with mine. She burrows into me like a chipmunk rooting to make a nest. Small hands make their way beneath my shirt and I jump when they hit my skin.
“Jesus, your hands are like ice.”
“S-s-s-orry.”
“It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting them to be that cold.
“Y-y-y-you’re s-s-so w-w-warm.”
“I was.” And I laugh. “Why’d you do it? Run from me?” I pull back slightly so I can see her face. Huge remorseful eyes look back at me and I know she doesn’t want to answer. But I want her to. I want to hear the words.
“Tell me, Juliette.”
Her eyes shutter, closing me out. Damn it. I don’t want her to shut me out. As bad as it sounds, I want in. I want in her life. She needs me. I can feel it.
Her shivering eventually eases. I reach for the thermometer and stick it in her mouth. Ninety-seven. I can stop taking it now. In dealing with addicts, since many of them end up on the streets like I did, I know a lot about how to treat hypothermia. When the body temperature hits ninety-five it can be extremely dangerous. I’m thankful Juliette’s wasn’t that low.
“Your temperature has climbed up to ninety-seven.”
“I’m still cold.”
“I should think so.” Rolling to my side, I take her with me. “I never thought I’d be in this bed with a nun.”
A small elbow digs into my ribs. “I’m not a nun.”
“Close, though. Maybe I should take a selfie of us and send it to Sister Helena. I could caption it—having fun with a nun.” The thought makes me grin.
Her face turns nearly purple and her mouths screws up into the most awful look of horror. I can’t help but laugh.
“Juliette, I’m only kidding.”
“Oh, Kade, that’s not something to kid about. She would die. And after all she’s done for me.” Her head drops onto my shoulder and I feel terrible now for teasing her.
“I’m sorry. I thought you would find it humorous. I shouldn’t have said it.”
She sinks her top teeth into her lower lip and then says, “When I came to Denver, I was on my last leg, so to speak. I had run out of options. The convent was my last ditch effort and I’d been rejected by everywhere I’d applied. Sister Helena took me in on a trial basis. She gave me six months. I don’t think she believed me that I wanted to really become a nun. And who could blame her? I was nothing but a sham. But she saved me. I think I owe her my life, though I can never tell her.”
I digest what she’s told me; that’s why she’s so forgiving of Sister Helena. It’s also why Sister Helena takes advantage of her. Juliette has blinders on where Sister Helena is concerned. I don’t. I see through her. She’s an opportunist and I can’t like her.
“Juliette, you can leave the convent if you want. I’ll give you a job and pay you a salary. You can find a place to live that won’t require you to be at the beck and call of someone who doesn’t appreciate you and see the good in you.”
“No! I could never live alone. Not now. I’m too afraid!”
“Then stay here.”
“No! I can’t do that either. It’s not right.”
“What about finding a roommate or something? Or how about staying at Living Free?”
“I can’t take advantage of you.”
“I want you to take advantage of me, damn it!”
The words fly out before I can stop them. She looks at me, questioning. Before I know what’s happening, I lean forward and touch my lips to hers. They’re still cool, so I take my tongue and drag it over first the lower one and then the upper one. It’s been years since I’ve kissed a woman. But I don’t ever remember lips being this soft. I press my mouth to hers again and she kisses me back. Her hand touches my cheek, letting me know it’s okay.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you since that day I saw you in the garden, with your Metallica T-shirt on.”
“You have?”
“Yes. I have.” I figure why not tell the truth here.
My mouth drops down to taste hers again, and I take her lower lip into mine and suck on it. When she moans, my dick instantly responds. Shit. I want her. But that can’t happen. I need to only focus on the kiss. My tongue pushes into her mouth and I feel hers lightly touch mine, as if to say it’s okay, but she’s a little afraid. I coax her. I’m gentle at first, playing hide and seek a bit. When she becomes bolder, I deepen the kiss and her hands grab my hair. That tells me she’s into it, and when her leg wraps around mine and her hips press into me, I groan.
I pull back slightly, and notice the skin on her cheeks and neck is flushed with desire. She wants me. Or maybe it’s just the fact that she’s finally thawed out and the circulation has returned. I’m so far out of this game, it’s sad to say that I can’t tell which.
“Juliette.” I nuzzle her cheek with my nose. My hand slips under her sweatshirt and she instantly stiffens, drawing away from me.
“Kade, I … we can’t do this. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be sorry.” What was I thinkin
g? I’m not some stupid fifteen year old.
She tries to scramble out of bed, but I pull her back to me. “Don’t go. I promise not to kiss or touch you. Just stay here so you can get warm.”
She relaxes. “I want you to kiss and touch me, but I’m conflicted.”
“Tell me.”
“Kade, I’m not a virgin. I had a normal life before this, you know, one with a boyfriend and everything when I was in college. But I really had made up my mind to dedicate my life to the convent. I had it all planned out because I figure I’m not long for this world anyway. So this, whatever’s happening between you and me, can’t go any further.”
“I’m not a virgin either. It’s been years since I’ve been with anyone. Since before rehab. Since before I was living on the streets. Since before my addiction got so bad I could scarcely function. So what you have here is pretty much an inexperienced guy. I lost my virginity in college and quite frankly, I don’t remember too much about it. The few times I was with a woman, I was never sober, so my experience is limited, at best. And after college, well, you know what happened then. The truth is I haven’t met anyone since rehab I’ve come close to wanting to be with. Until you. So you’re not the only one who’s conflicted.”
“I’m not?”
“Hell no! Look at you! You’re so innocent. Then look at me. I’m a drug addict.”
“Recovering drug addict.”
A bitter laugh escapes from my mouth. “Do you have any idea how close I come each day to falling back down into the hellhole of addiction?”
She shakes her head.
“You don’t want to know.”
“Tell me.”
“I’ve already told you what it’s like. I don’t need to tell you again. The pain is tremendous and the hold it has over you is indescribable. I’m at war with myself over you right now. I have this relentless need to help you. You wear your hurt like a badge, Juliette. I want to tear that badge off you and crush it. But getting involved with you is setting off a series of alarms in my head. I guess you and I have arrived at the same place right now.”
The explanation I give her doesn’t even scratch the surface. I’m shit terrified of hurting her with my fuckeduppery. I’m also afraid that I’m not strong enough to handle this. What happens if my emotions get too entangled? If she doesn’t return my feelings? Will I fall down the slippery slope and succumb to the needle? Jesus, it scares the fucking hell out of me because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that I will die if I ever use again.
The Hart Brothers Series Box Set (Including the bonus book Sabin: A Seven Novel): Freeing Her, Freeing Him, Kestrel, The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart, Sabin: A Seven Novel Page 93
