Predator

by Michelle Heard

  The dusty smell from the pillow tickles my nose, and I shove my hands under my head to act as a barrier.

  It’s quiet out here and I love it. No people. Nothing but us.

  The smell of something delicious wakes me. I don’t know how long I slept for. I get up slowly, and when pain starts to pulse in my abdomen, I quickly reach for the painkillers. I down two with the water and then go in search of Damian.

  I find him in the kitchen where he’s stirring something in a pot. “You’re cooking?” I’m surprised as hell. Damian never cooked before, well, except for that one time he made curry for whats-her-name.

  “Yeah, just some chili. I got some fresh bread too, and some other stuff.” He points to an old kettle. “It just boiled if you’d like to make some coffee.”

  “Thanks,” I whisper. I make myself some coffee and then walk out onto the small porch. Every step I take makes the wood creak beneath my feet.

  I take in the surroundings, and when I don’t see any cabins or people near us, I feel a flutter of something close to happiness.

  I hear movement inside, and I glance over my shoulder. Damian is stripping all the bedding off again, and then I watch him take brand new bedding out of a bag.

  I wish I had the energy to help him, but I’m already tired again. It feels as if something is draining every drop of strength from my body.

  I finish the coffee and rinse the cup, and then go to the bathroom. It’s the tiniest room, with only a bath, basin and toilet. I hesitate for a second before I close the door. I feel the panic rise in my chest as I stare at the door. I quickly relieve myself, flush the toilet, and rinse my hands before I yank the door open. Damian is right on the other side, and I bounce back.

  “You closed the door,” he states and then a smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. “That’s good.”

  He walks to the kitchen, and I make my way back to the bedroom. The covers are pulled back, and a slight smile pulls at my lips as I get under the brand new blanket. I sigh and close my eyes, letting sleep take me again.

  DAMIAN

  When the chili is ready, I scoop some into a bowl for myself. Cara is still asleep, and there’s no way I’m waking her. She needs as much rest as possible. She can eat when she wakes up.

  I take my bowl of chili and a bottle of water and go sit on the old beaten up couch. I have a clear view of Cara, and my eyes never leave her as I eat.

  Once she’s better, we’ll need to talk. She can either stay with me, which I hope she decides to do, or she can risk it out there. The thought of her leaving again makes my blood run cold. She’s been through enough shit in her life.

  The thought of going to South Africa and killing that good-for-nothing uncle of hers is very tempting.

  The day I got Cara from that container, I never thought we’d end up like this. I never thought there’d be a woman out there who would make me give it all up. I still don’t know why I’m doing all of this for her. It sure as hell ain’t love.

  “You’re just protective of her,” I whisper to myself. “She has no one, and you have no one, so it’s only natural that you stick together.” I scoff at myself and my stupid reasoning. “Yeah, right. Keep bullshitting yourself.”

  When midnight comes around, and it’s clear Cara won’t be waking up, I quickly bathe. I hate bathing. I need to put a shower in here. I pull on a pair of sweats and then slip in next to Cara. She’s lying on her side, with her back facing me. I just stare at her silhouette for a few minutes longer before I scoot closer to her. I make sure not to touch her as I place my arm under my head. Some of her hair is fanned over the pillow, and I touch the silky tips.

  I must’ve drifted to sleep, but it feels like I’ve only been asleep for a few seconds when movement wakes me. I open my eyes and see Cara sitting on the edge of the bed. As she gets up, I notice that her movements are sluggish. Her body veers to the left, and she bumps into the wall.

  I quickly get out. When I get to her, I notice her wet cheeks.

  “Sorry,” she whispers, “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to get some water.”

  I take hold of her arm. “Get back in bed. I’ll quickly go get you a bottle.” I make sure she’s sitting down again before I walk to the kitchen. I grab two bottles of water. When I walk back into the bedroom, she’s struggling to open the box of painkillers.

  “Here.” I hand her a bottle of water and take the box from her. I quickly take two pills out and hand it to her. Her hands are trembling, and it makes me worry. “Is the pain bad?”

  She shakes her head and then swallows the pills. I take the bottle from her and watch as she gingerly lies back down. Tears keep sneaking out of her eyes.

  “Cara, how bad is it?” I ask as I look down at her.

  “The pills will take the pain away in a few seconds,” she whispers, still not telling me how bad it is.

  I’m worried and quickly switch on the light. “We’re up, I might as well change the bandage.” I just want to see the wound for myself. She might have an infection, and her stubborn ass won’t tell me.

  I get the first aid kit, and when I push her shirt up, she doesn’t even open her eyes. I slip my arm under her shoulders and lift her gently, while with my other hand, I undo the bandage around her waist. I toss the old bandage to the side and then ease her slowly back onto the bed. I take an antiseptic wipe and slowly start to clean the wound.

  It doesn’t look infected, and it makes me breathe a little easier.

  When I throw the wipe to the side, she mumbles sleepily, “That felt so nice.”

  The corner of my mouth twitches and I take out another wipe. I start the whole process over again, gently wiping around the clips. When I go out tomorrow to get stuff for the shower, I’ll check where the doctor is. It’s been eight days since the surgery so the clips should be coming out soon.

  I’m glad I got the new bandages with some tape. I cover the clips and then stare down at her. She fell asleep, and it hits me that she trusts me. She fell asleep with her shirt bunched up. She’s trusting me not to take advantage of her.

  Fuck, that’s huge.

  I wonder if she even realizes this. I throw the used bandage and wipes away, and then switch off all the lights. I lie down next to her, but this time I can’t fall asleep, so I spend the early morning hours taking in every inch of her silhouette.

  CARA

  I wake up to find the sun streaming into the room. I feel sticky and worn-out.

  I slowly sit up, careful not to aggravate the wound. I remember how Damian took care of me the night before. I remember how gentle he was, and the memories alone make me feel all emotional. I swallow hard and get up.

  When I walk into the bathroom, I find Damian measuring the wall. “Hey.”

  His head snaps to me then back to the wall. He makes a mark and then steps out of the bath. His eyes capture mine, and it looks like he’s searching for something. “How do you feel?”

  I shrug. I don’t really have an answer for that question. I feel… miserable. No, that’s not even the right word for what I’m feeling.

  His fingers brush over my jaw, and he nudges my face up so I’ll look at him again. “I’m here. Any time you want to talk, I’m here.”

  I nod and then let my eyes go to the mark he made on the wall. “What are you doing?”

  He looks at all the stuff lying in the bath. “I need a shower, so I’m installing one. I’ll let you have the bathroom before I get to work.”

  “Thanks,” I mumble. I watch him leave, and then I close the door behind me. I stare at the closed door, and like clockwork, the familiar panic starts to tighten my chest. I place a hand over the spot where it feels as if an elephant has parked its huge ass, trying to crush my heart. I keep my eyes on the door as I quickly relieve myself. I rinse my hands and avoid looking in the mirror. I don’t want to see the empty shell staring back at me.

  I go right back to bed and pull the cover over my head so it will block out the light.

  I
don’t fall asleep again but just lie under the cover. Although I don’t move a muscle, it feels as if my mind is racing against some unknown darkness that’s threatening to destroy my last bit of sanity.

  DAMIAN

  When I’m done with the shower, I test it to make sure there are no leaks. I got a white curtain with grey shades. It looks like a huge picture of a grey thistle has been drawn on it. I hope Cara likes it.

  I check the time, and when I notice it’s almost afternoon, I decide to warm some of the chili. I got some fresh rolls too, and butter one. With the roll and a spoon in one hand, and the bowl of chili in the other, I go check on her. She needs to eat. Walking into the room, I find her totally under the cover.

  “Cara,” I say, but she doesn’t move. “It’s time to eat. Get your ass up.”

  She throws the cover back and then with a huff she sits up. “I’m not hungry,” she mutters.

  I hold the spoon and roll out to her. “You can’t live off painkillers,” I growl as I start to lose my patience. I know she’s in a shitty place, but I won’t stand by and watch how she starves herself. No fucking way.

  I hand her the bowl of chili and then scowl at her. She takes a bite and chews slowly. I go to the window and open it so we can get some fresh air in the room.

  “I made an appointment for you with the local doctor.”

  Her head snaps up and she scowls at me. “Why?”

  I frown and cross my arms over my chest. “To have the clips removed and the wound checked out.”

  “Oh.” She takes a small bite of the bread and takes forever to chew it. I watch her take two more bites of chili before she puts the bowl on the side of the bed, and then she dumps the roll into the brew. “Thanks.”

  She lies back down and pulls the blanket over her head again.

  I grab the bowl and stalk to the kitchen, not knowing what the fuck I’m going to do with her. I stalk up and down, and then it feels as if my blood explodes in my veins. I storm back to the room, yank the cover back and scoop her into my arms.

  “Hey!” she shrieks, but then she clings to me. I stalk to the bathroom and put her down in the bath. I turn the faucets open, and she shrieks again as the cold water hits her. She struggles to her feet and then glares at me. I can see she wants to get angry, but there’s just not enough spark.

  “Clean yourself,” I snap at her. “You fucking stink.”

  I yank the shower curtain closed and then settle with my back against the opposite wall.

  Her silhouette doesn’t move for a good few seconds, and I worry that I won’t get through to her. I have to stop this slippery slope she’s on before she falls too far and there’s no getting her back.

  I hear a sob and then she sinks down in the bath.

  I close my eyes as her heartbreaking sobs rip my heart to shreds. I can’t stand it anymore, and I pull the curtain open again. I kneel down next to the bath and then reach for the plug. I put it in and change the function from shower to bath. As the water starts to fill the tub, I pull her up. She doesn’t stop me as I start to undress her. I first pull her shirt over her head and then help her step out of her slacks. I drop them right next to the bath.

  I don’t put in a lot of water. I don’t want her wound to be under the water for long. I take the bandage off and then reach for the sponge. I soap it up and start to wash her arms.

  The only sign that she’s still crying are the tears sneaking from her eyes. She keeps her eyes trained on the water, an empty look on her face. I wash her whole body, except for her breasts, ass and between her legs. I’m not crossing that line. I’m careful around the clips and then rinse her body off.

  “Lie back,” I whisper. She listens and, taking hold of either side of the bath, she slides down.

  I quickly wet her hair and then squirt some shampoo into my hand. I wash her hair and then rinse it off before helping her back up. I pull the plug and then grab a towel.

  “Get out,” I whisper.

  She steps out of the bath, and as she steps into the towel I’m holding open, she looks down at the floor. I wrap it around her and then grab another. I dry her hair, looking down at her. The desolate look on her face yanks at my heart.

  I pull her into my arms and just hold her for a while.

  “You know what sucks?” she whispers in a forlorn tone.

  “No, tell me,” I encourage her to open up to me.

  She presses herself closer to me and then whispers, “It’s not only being stuck in the darkest of holes, while the rest of the world is standing in the sun. It’s not only when you feel the cruel bite of loneliness, while you’re surrounded by people. It’s not only when you’re so tired to the bone, while all you do is sleep.” Her voice cracks but she forces the words out, “It’s like a fucking cancer eating away at my soul. It’s devouring every sliver of light.”

  My arms tighten around her, and I search for the right words to tell her, but I can’t find any.

  CHAPTER 16

  CARA

  The doctor is old, and there’s a moment I worry that he won’t be able to see the clips. But luckily he sees just fine at his high age, and he removes them quickly.

  “It’s healing nicely, Mrs. Jackson. Just keep cleaning it for a while longer. Come see me if it starts to itch or turns tender and red,” the doctor says.

  “Okay,” I whisper as I sit up, pulling my shirt down. “Thank you.” I give him an awkward smile and then leave the room.

  When I walk into the tiny reception, Damian gets up immediately. “Thank you,” he says to the receptionist, and then he takes my hand.

  “Enjoy your day, Mr. and Mrs. Jackson,” the receptionist calls out cheerfully.

  I was surprised when Damian gave the name Nina Jackson for me. When we get in the car, I glance at him. “You got me a new identity too?”

  He steers the car back onto the main road before he says, “Yeah, I always have an emergency plan. We need to practice the new names. We don’t want to slip up in public. You have to call me Alex, and I’ll call you Nina.”

  “So we’re married… again?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Yeah.” His eyes flit to mine before he continues, “We look nothing alike and wouldn’t pull off the brother and sister thing. I thought it would be safer to just make us a married couple.”

  “Oh.” I slump back against the seat, not sure how I feel about it. “So … do we have a real marriage certificate?”

  “As real as our I.D. cards,” he says. I’m surprised when he doesn’t turn back onto the road that leads to the cabin but instead drives past it.

  I let the subject of our fake marriage go for now. “Where are we going?”

  “I want to show you something,” he says.

  We sit in silence until he pulls the car into an empty parking area. He gets out, walks around the car, and opens my door. With no other choice left, I get out, my shoulders slumping. I’d rather go back to bed.

  “Come on,” he whispers. He takes my hand and pulls me across the parking area.

  We get to a stairway carved out of a rock, and halfway down I have to stop. “I just need a minute,” I say, breathing heavily. Sweat is beading on my forehead, and I’m exhausted.

  Damian patiently waits until I regain some of my strength before we climb the rest down. We get to a beach where waves are rolling in lazily.

  Damian pulls me all the way to the water and then kneels in front of me. He slips my shoes off and rolls my pants up to my knees before he does the same with his jeans.

  We step into the cold water, and I give him a look, silently asking what now?

  He looks out towards the horizon and starts to whisper, “I know you feel lost in an ocean of pain, but just for a minute, I want you to focus on what I say.”

  I feel uncomfortable with the direction the conversation is heading in, so I look out to the ocean as well.

  “Do you feel the cold water lapping at your legs?”

  I frown but answer anyway, “Yeah.”

>   “That means you have legs to be grateful for. You can walk.”

  I sigh and brush some of my hair back.

  “Do you feel that breeze?”

  I give him a look. “Really? You’re going to ask me a bunch of questions?”

  “Do you feel the sun on your face?”

  I don’t answer him and pull my hand free from his.

  “Do you see the blue of the ocean?”

  I turn around to walk back to the car when he snaps angrily, “Because there are hundreds of people who would’ve given anything to see it one last time. There are many who would’ve done anything to take just one more step.”

  I swing back to him and yell, “What the fuck does it have to do with me?”

  He steps right up to me, and his eyes are blazing with anger. “You’re alive! Fuck, woman. Your heart is beating. You still get to see all this beauty, you get to feel that breeze, you get to walk.” He wipes a hand over his face and growls, “You’re alive. There are so many who die young. So many lose so much, but they don’t wallow in self-pity. They fucking live every day to the fullest. Cara…” He sucks in a deep breath. “You’re given one fucking life, and it might have been a fucked up one so far, but you get to decide how it will end. Are you going to let a bunch of fuckers ruin your entire life, or are you going to fight back and give them the finger?”

  My throat feels thick, and I swallow the tears. He’s right, but how do I change the way I feel?

  “I don’t know how?” I whisper.

  “That’s why I brought you here. Right now, standing right here, all you have to do is look at the ocean and see the blue. Feel that breeze and feel the cold water between your toes. For today…” His eyes are stormy with emotions, and I’m scared that if I stare any longer, I’ll get caught in the storm. “Just do that. Nothing more.”

  I walk back into the water and focus on the cold waves splashing around my legs. I feel the breeze play in my hair, and I look out across the ocean, taking note of all the shades of blue. I am grateful that I’m alive. I’m grateful that I have Damian. I just wish I could shake this heaviness that keeps weighing me down.