by Joan Davis
“Risa,” Samson called to her softly. When she looked at him she got lost in his gaze. “Breathe baby. It’s okay to just breathe.” He still had her hand in his, and he squeezed it gently in reassurance.
A shuddering breath seemed to burst from her lips and she sagged a little. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t even know why I’m here,” she confessed.
“You don’t have to have a reason. All you have to do is just be, baby. That’s it. You don’t have to worry about what to say or do. We’re just going to hang out a while. That’s what new friends do. They hang out, relax, and have a good time, right?” Samson asked, and then said, “You know, you probably don’t need that stick anymore.”
Surprised, Risa realized she still had a death grip on the walking stick she had picked up earlier. With a jerky nod she offered it to Samson and watched as he leaned it up against the deck railing. His voice continued to throb in her chest and she shivered in pleasure. She really loved the feeling it gave her. “I . . . I can do that. Friends . . . I’d like that,” she said, surprised at how good the thought of having a friend was to her. It had been a really long time.
“Me too, baby. Since we’re friends I will extend an invitation. You are welcome here anytime you want. No questions asked. You can consider this place to be sort of a safe zone for you, just a place to hang out and relax,” Samson offered with sincerity.
Risa nodded shyly and looked away towards the lake. She wasn’t sure how to answer his generosity. It felt so foreign to have a normal conversation with someone besides her dad. Taking a deep breath, she turned back, stared at him silently, and shifted, unsure what to do next.
Samson seemed to understand and just squeezed her hand once more before releasing her. Moving over to the chairs, he picked up the can of paint and levered it open. “I have been putting this off because I honestly hate to paint.” He picked up a stir stick and began to mix the contents. When he pulled the paint stick out he heard Risa gasp. He looked back at her and saw she was giving the stick a dubious look.
“Um . . . are you sure you want to paint the chairs that color?” Risa asked.
Shrugging, Samson said, “Yeah, I just want to give them a fresh look.”
“It’s sort of . . . bright, don’t you think?”
Sam looked down at the scarlet pigment and then shrugged, “It’s red and that’s good enough for me. The guy at the paint store said it was a very popular color this year. I don’t mind if it’s not a perfect match.”
Risa still looked skeptical, but she said, “Well, if you’re sure that’s the color you want, I don’t mind painting them for you.”
“Absolutely, thanks!” Samson accepted hurriedly. He really did hate the chore of painting, and he would use any excuse to keep Risa from leaving. Just as he stepped aside to give her room to start, his cell phone rang. When he looked at the caller I.D. he grimaced. “Risa, I apologize, but I need to take this call. I’m going to go inside for a minute and take care of this and then I’ll bring us out something to drink. Okay?” At Risa’s nod he headed into the house.
Risa stared after him for a moment, admiring the way his body moved. Despite his size, he barely made any sound as he walked across the deck and onto his back porch, before entering his house. Pulling her gaze away, she looked back down at the paint once more in dismay. He couldn’t possibly want this color, she thought, but then shrugged. It was his furniture, and if he wanted them painted this color, then that’s what he would get. Risa poured paint in a tray, picked up a small roller and got to work. Soon, she was thoroughly engrossed in her task, and before she knew it she had one chair done and a large portion of it was already dry. She stepped back to admire her work.
Samson stood at the kitchen window as he prepared lemonade. Fascinated, he watched Risa work. He noticed the intense concentration on her face. Every move she made was with purpose. Even though his call had lasted a good half hour she didn’t seem to notice his absence. She seemed relaxed and even content with her job. It felt good for once to see her without a look of unease and sadness on her face.
He had been shocked earlier when he’d spotted her standing so still at the edge of his yard. It was like seeing a wild fawn. She stood so still and hesitant, but her stare had been intense and focused squarely on him. She had seemed fascinated with his every move. Afraid that he would spook her, Samson had continued to work, trying to think of how to acknowledge her presence. Finally, at a loss, he just called out and hoped she wouldn’t bolt. He watched her struggle with her instinct to run, but he could also see that she wanted to stay. He felt like he had won a prize when had she decided not to run away. Samson craned his neck as he tried to get a look at the chairs, but he couldn’t see them from his position at the window.
For days he had hoped to catch sight of her but had only been disappointed. She was an intriguing puzzle and his curiosity for her was growing daily. He was like a teenager obsessed with his first crush. Where was she? What was she doing? Was she thinking about him? I have now gone around the bend, Samson thought. I am a grown man. Women love me. What am I doing lusting after this tiny woman? She would probably run away screaming if she knew about his intense interest in her.
Thinking about her possible retreat, Samson quickly prepared two frosty glasses of the tart drink and walked outside to rejoin her. As he stepped out onto the deck, he stopped in shock and nearly dropped the glasses. “What in the holy hell is that?” he asked incredulously, his voice booming. One of the chairs was now an intense hot pink. The color was saturated but still hot, hot pink. It looked like a piece of giant Barbie Dream House furniture.
Risa jumped and turned towards him with a militant look. “Well, I asked you if you were sure this was the color you wanted. You’re the one who pick it out. I just painted it for you.” She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
Seeing the hurt and uncertainty in Risa’s eyes, Samson set the glasses of lemonade on the deck railing and quickly tried to back-pedal. “No, no it’s fine. It looks great, really. I was just amazed that you got so much done while I was gone. You did a great job . . .” Samson’s voice faded out, and he scratched his head and winced as he continued to take in the chair’s new look.
Risa stared at Samson for a long moment before saying, “Wow, you really suck at lying.” Her eyes grew large and a fiery blush spread over her face. She slapped her hand over her mouth and groaned. Once again she had inadvertently voiced her thoughts. Why did that only happen with this man?
Samson gaped at Risa in shock and then burst out laughing. His mirth was infectious and he watched as Risa shook her head and tried to hide her grin. Samson loved the twinkle that shined from her eyes and the blush that highlighted her cheeks. “Woman, the things you say to me.” Sighing in defeat, Samson admitted, “You’re right though, I do hate it. I’m sorry, but there couldn’t be a worse color on this earth. It’s so . . . pink.” His distaste was clearly written on his face.
Risa was unable to keep her natural humor at bay. “Hey, it’s ‘Candied Hot Pink’, thank you very much. What’s so bad about it? I think it’s sort of cute. You’re not one of those insecure men that can’t handle being caught around anything that is considered feminine are you?” Risa asked and raised an arched brow at him.
Samson narrowed his eyes at her taunting tone. “Cute? I don’t do cute. Can’t you see? I’m all man, baby, and I don’t do ‘Candied Hot Pink’ anything.” Samson nearly burst out laughing again when Risa gave a big snort and rolled her eyes. She couldn’t be any cuter if she tried. Her wild hair danced about her head, and she looked so carefree and amused that Samson felt a sudden urge to lean over and kiss her. Whoa! That brought him up short. What the hell was he thinking? Samson turned and picked up his lemonade and took a big swallow, trying to cover his reaction to her.
“So, is it safe to say you don’t want the other chair painted with the same color?”
Gulping down more of the lemonade, Samson finally turned and s
aid, “Uh . . . that would be correct. I will be thrown out of the He Man Women Haters Club if my friends see this monstrosity,” Samson declared teasingly and got another snort for his trouble. “I’m going to go back to the paint store and have a word with the guy who sold this god-awful paint to me,” Samson growled dramatically. “What do you say, my little artist. Would you be willing to come back and help me paint once I have the correct paint color?” Samson asked with an enticing smile, but it quickly died as he saw the color fade from Risa’s face, as a stricken look came over her.
“I’ve . . . I’ve got to go,” Risa choked out, and then she ran down the deck stairs and into the woods.
“Risa, wait, I really don’t mind the color. Please, don’t leave!” Samson called out as he started after her, but he stopped when he saw fear in her eyes as she glanced back before she quickly raced away. “What the hell?” Samson asked out loud in confusion. Everything had been fine. Risa had appeared to be enjoying herself. He couldn’t figure out what triggered her sudden flight. He felt like he had failed her somehow. That last look of fear he saw on her face was like a knife to his heart.
Sighing, he just wanted to make sure she made it home safely, but he didn’t really want to call and get Bill involved. It just seemed wrong. Instead, he slowly returned to the deck and began cleaning up the paint and brushes. He noticed the long stick she left behind and fingered it. Damn it, He thought in frustration. What had he done? Had she noticed his reaction to her? Had he frightened her somehow? In angry frustration he flung the stick back into the woods.
Risa ran all the way back to her father’s house. When she lunged up the steps of the back deck her breath was rasping in her throat. She stopped at the sliding door and gripped the handle. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her breathing. Tears threatened to overwhelm her as the past loomed in her mind. Guilt and sorrow bloomed in her chest and a sob slipped out. Risa quickly swallowed it and made her way inside the house. She made it to her room and grabbed her robe and headed for the bathroom.
“Risa, is that you? You were gone for a while. I was starting to get worried,” Her dad called out, and Risa heard him getting up from his desk.
Swallowing hard, Risa quickly said, “Yeah, it’s me. I just lost track of time. I’m going to take a shower and maybe take a nap. That walk made me a little tired.” Before her father could answer, she closed the door of the bathroom and turned the shower faucets on full blast to muffle the sounds of her grief.
*****
Frosted masks hid their true faces. They danced and danced around her in circles. The metallic tinge of blood filled the air and made her stomach roll with nausea. Risa felt so dizzy. He had slaughtered another cat. It had screamed in pain for only seconds, but the sound played as a loop inside Risa’s head. Her own screams kept up their own chorus until once again her throat refused to permit another sound.
The chanting was a constant backdrop. His voice was offering her paradise but at an unattainable price. Risa felt the bite of the cage’s bars tearing at her raw flesh. She whimpered silently as she heard his breathing. Closer and closer he came. They tied her up and let her hang by her wrists. Risa could hear the belt slip past each loop as the man in black removed it. A violent shiver caused her to convulse even before the first blow landed. Pain radiated through her body. She wasn’t able to cry or plead for mercy any longer. But inside her mind she prayed for death. Yet it never came.
Suddenly, Risa was watching as they held her mother and father in front of her. She tried and tried to plead for their lives. A man walked over to her father and stabbed him in the abdomen several times before allowing him to drop to the floor. Then, a man in black ran his knife from one side of her mother’s neck to the other. The blood was so dark. The life slowly drained from her mother’s eyes, as the blood drained from her body. He mother dropped lifeless to the floor and laid in a macabre drape over her husband’s legs.
Frosted masks and whispers of magic were constant and never ending. Then the cage and the gray cement blocks and the pain. The strobe of visions repeated over and over in her mind. Her mother’s dead eyes, the dance of blood, and the cage flashed by Risa’s eyes as the lick of pain kept up a rhythmic beat each time the picture changed.
“You’ll never be free. This is you fate, and you are the chosen one. No matter where you hide we will always find you. You belong to us now, and you owe us a life.” The voice never stopped. It played in Risa’s head as a murmur in the background. The words never changed and they seeped into her mind so deeply that she was unable to escape them.
A cool wet cloth on Risa’s face finally stopped the voices and images. A soothing voice calmed the pain. “You’re safe now, sweetheart. You’re safe,” The voice said as she drifted. Risa’s body relaxed and a deep sleep finally took her.
CHAPTER 2
Risa sat next to her dad in their sedan. She was mind-weary and exhausted. They had spent another afternoon at doctor appointments and with her therapist, Dr. Harrison. Thinking back on her latest therapy sessions, Risa realized she felt a sense of trust with the non-threatening older woman. She felt at ease and able talk about her time in captivity without feeling coerced. Despite this, Risa continued to feel like someone raked a claw down her whole body when she was forced to bring up her horrific history. She was trying to accept what the therapist kept telling her, that it was healthier to expose everything that had happened to her and deal with it head-on instead of hiding from it. The only thing Risa knew for sure was that every time she had to re-live her time in captivity, it took her to a very dark place and stretched her nerves thin. After each session, Risa just wanted everything to stop for a while. She leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the car window and closed her eyes. At least it was over, at least for today.
The memories of Samson Knight holding her in the water and laughing with her on his deck briefly entered her mind. The images of his face and beautiful eyes made her smile for a moment, but then her exhaustion overpowered her and once again her mind drifted.
“Honey . . .?” Risa’s dad spoke to her softly. “Did you hear that weather broadcast?”
“I’m sorry daddy, I wasn’t really paying attention. What did it say?” Risa asked absently, trying to keep her focus from wandering.
“They were just saying that we should be getting heavy thunderstorms through here later in the afternoon. I was thinking about stopping at Maybell’s Diner for a quick bite to eat. That way we can take something home for later on tonight and not have to worry about dinner if we lose power. Do you feel up to it?” Bill Landau asked, glancing worriedly at his daughter’s tired face.
Risa inwardly sighed, but smiled for her father’s benefit. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she just wanted to go home. “Sure, it will be nice, and like you said, we won’t have to cook a big meal later on tonight.” Her dad had done so much and had given up everything for her. In the last five years his once black hair had become liberally peppered with gray and he looked so tired. He never complained, but Risa knew how sad he was and how much he missed her mom. She closed her eyes in pain, as grief and guilt pierced through her heart at the thought of her mom.
A few minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of the diner and made their way inside. They were quickly seated next to one of the big windows that overlooked a beautiful garden that Maybell, the owner, took pride in maintaining. A waitress brought them ice water and took their orders. Risa took a deep breath and tried to brace herself for the curious stares and people stopping by “just to say hello.”
Her dad was quiet and it gave Risa time to relax and stare out at all the beautiful flowers in the garden. Maybe she would have time to swim in the lake when they returned home. That thought brought her back to Samson. She had not seen him again since the day she had run away from him. He must think she was crazy for just leaving that way. She had wanted to go back and apologize the next day, but she was too embarrassed and nervous about his reaction. Instead, she fo
und herself hoping to catch sight of him as she swam or sat near the lake, but so far she hadn’t seen any sign of him. She thought about asking her dad about him, but for reasons she didn’t really understand, she never did. It had been several weeks and she wondered if Samson even remembered her.
“Mr. Landau, what a pleasant surprise,” a voice called. “We haven’t seen you in quite a while. How are you?” the high pitched female voice practically yelled from across the room. Risa sighed, turned back towards her dad and tried to look pleasant. The smile she had been attempting faltered, however, when she saw a beautiful, statuesque, blond woman walking towards them. She was clutching the arm of the very man who had just been the center of Risa’s thoughts.
“Oh lord…,” Bill Landau muttered before saying aloud, “We’re doing just fine LuAnne. I hope all is well with you.” He quickly looked over LuAnne’s shoulder. “Sam, it’s good to see you.” Risa noticed her dad said this with a little more sincerity. He then turned towards Risa and said, “I don’t believe either of you have met my daughter, Risa. Risa, this is LuAnne Franklin and Sam Knight.” Bill looked at Risa and gave her a helpless look. He knew she hated having a parade of people come by every time they went out to eat. It had gotten better, but it still happened on occasion, like now.
Suddenly, Risa realized why she had felt like she had seen Samson before she met him that day in the lake. He was the man that had kept people away from them while they ate lunch here at Maybell’s one day. It had been the first time Risa had been able to enjoy eating out with her dad since she arrived. Though she had been grateful, she hadn’t really looked at him closely. She was just glad to avoid the constant interruptions. She remembered her dad saying what a good man he thought Sam was.
