I put my hand on the door and knocked lightly. Not surprisingly, there was no answer.
“Rabbit? I’m sorry. I lost my temper. You’re safe, I promise. I wouldn’t hurt you.”
Nothing. There was no response.
“I’m going downstairs. I’ll leave you alone. Bear is out here. You can open the door and let him in if you want, after I go.”
I waited, but there was only silence.
I patted Bear’s head. “Look after her, boy,” I said quietly. His answering snort let me know exactly what he thought about what had just transpired.
I came upstairs a couple hours later, having exhausted my anger by throwing myself into my workout. Bear was gone from the hall, so I assumed he was in the bedroom with Rabbit. I added some logs to the fire and lay down on the couch, trying to get comfortable. My mind would not let me rest though. I kept tossing and turning and worrying about Rabbit. Was she okay? Was she still scared? The whole time I was downstairs, I kept hoping she would appear. As I did my exercises and worked out in the pool, I kept an ear open, listening for her soft steps. When I sat in the hot tub, rubbing the sore muscles, I remembered her soothing massage and how good it felt when she worked on my leg. The leg she had simply asked about, wanting to give me the chance to talk about it. I had plied her with questions all afternoon but as soon as she asked one of me, I had become angry. I groaned, thinking about my behavior. What a complete ass.
Finally, I sat up. I needed to check on her, and then I could go to sleep. Once I was sure she was okay, I would relax. Quietly, I made my way down the hall. I tried the door; grateful it wasn’t locked, and slipped into the room. It was far colder in the bedroom and I immediately went over to the fireplace and added some logs to get the fire going again. After it was blazing, I went over to the bed where Bear was watching me from his usual place at the bottom. His expressive eyes told me he agreed with my assessment that I was an ass. Rabbit’s eyes were shut, but I could see the dampness still on her cheeks from crying. Wordlessly, I got another blanket and tucked it around her. I stood looking at her sadly for a moment, and then turned away. The sudden feeling of her little hand clutching mine stopped me. I turned back around and saw her eyes were open, looking at me. I knelt down beside the bed. “I’m sorry I frightened you. I was already … angry and your question just caught me off guard.”
“Why were you angry?”
“Because someone hurt you. I hate seeing that.”
She stared at me for a moment.
“Still, I shouldn’t have pushed you. You’re right. It’s none of my business,” she replied quietly. “I am sorry … for imposing. I’ll stay out of your way.”
The look in her eyes was heartbreaking. I drew in a deep breath. “You’re not imposing, Rabbit. I was an ass. I didn’t mean it. You’re not in the way.”
She didn’t say anything. I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
I began to walk away when she whispered, “Wait.”
I looked back and saw her moving. I watched as the covers lifted in silent invitation. Even as my mind was screaming at me to walk away, I crawled under the covers and pulled Rabbit into my arms, sighing with soft relief at having her there.
“Why do I feel so safe here in your arms?”
“Because you are. I would never hurt you.”
She looked up at me. I couldn’t stop myself from stroking her warm cheek. “I’m sorry, Rabbit. I know I scared you. I might get angry and say stupid things but I would never, ever, touch you in anger.”
My hand cupped her cheek, “And, you are not imposing. I’m so sorry I said that.”
Her eyes gazed into mine. “What am I doing then?”
The words were out before I could stop them. “Saving me from my loneliness,” I whispered.
Her eyes widened. “Joshua …”
Then my lips were on hers. She opened her mouth and my tongue slipped in, tenderly exploring. I groaned at the sweetness of her and her low moan spurred me on. Her hands slipped up into my hair, holding me close. I tilted her head and deepened the kiss, needing to be closer to her. Her velvet tongue, which seemed hesitant at first, grew bolder and soon our tongues danced together, swirling, hot, and wet.
Stroking. Savoring.
Deeper and deeper.
I felt like I was drowning in her. I wanted more. I wanted her. Hot pulsating desire tore through me. I pulled her even closer, needing to feel her, but the gasp that came out of her mouth this time was not one of pleasure but rather of pain. I pulled back in horror. I had forgotten about her injuries.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I hurt you. Oh, God …” I ran my hands frantically over her torso.
“Joshua. Stop. I’m fine. It was just a little too … tight.”
I gazed at her, her lips swollen from mine; her hair mussed up from my fingers and leaned forward, kissing her again, this time tenderly. I nuzzled her cheek and then I lay down on my side and pulled her close to me, stroking her hair while our breathing calmed. The quiet of the night and the soft pulse of her breath were so peaceful as we lay together. It was as if the events of the evening which had opened up something inside me and, suddenly, I wanted to answer her question from earlier.
“I was attacked.”
Her hands tightened on my shirt as she reacted to my sudden words. “Where?”
“Outside my apartment building in Toronto. I was walking home from dinner one night. I was jumped and dragged into an alley … and beaten. Badly.”
Her hands released my shirt and wound around my waist, holding me. “When I woke up, I was in the hospital. I had been in a coma for two weeks.”
“Oh, Joshua,” she breathed.
“I was pretty much a mess. My face was beaten, my nose broken, two broken ribs, a ruptured spleen … and my leg …” I drew in a deep breath. “It was literally in pieces. They had already operated on it and it took more surgeries and months of physiotherapy before I could begin to walk again.” I shuddered, remembering the pain when I had first woken up.
“Are you in pain a lot?”
“Some days. There was so much damage and not all of it could be repaired. Add in the pins, screws and whatever else they pieced it back together with, I feel it every day.”
“Why?”
“Wrong place, wrong time. They were high and wanted to get higher. I didn’t have enough cash on me and they were angry. So, they punished me for it.” I was quiet for a minute.
“It wasn’t until I was partway through my recovery that I was given the news I would probably never be able to father a child. They had taken that away from me as well. There was… a lot of damage.”
Rabbit’s hand came up and pulled my head down to her chest. I was surprised to find my face wet with tears. Her hand stroked my head gently and she whispered soothing words, allowing me the comfort of her embrace. With her warmth and softness around me, I felt myself let go and I acknowledged the pain I carried with me without even realizing it. After a few minutes, I looked up at her. “Sorry,” I whispered.
Her hand wiped away the remnants of my tears. “Don’t be sorry. I understand.” She smiled and warmly grazed her lips on my forehead. I tightened my arms around her in a silent thank you.
“Did they … did they arrest the people who did this?”
I shook my head. “No. They were gone when I was found and I never got a good look at them. They’ve never been discovered.”
Her arms tensed. “That must be a frightening thought?”
I nodded. “Sometimes more than others.”
We were quiet for a few minutes.
“How long were you in the hospital?”
“Six months.”
“You moved here after that?”
“Yes. I couldn’t stay in the city. I had bought this property a year before it happened and had the house built. I had come up for a weekend and I loved the area and the scenery and one day I was out driving around and stumbled across this piece
of land and I had to buy it. So, when I needed to escape the memories of the city, I came here to recover and … I have never left.” I drew in a deep breath and looked at her directly. “I have never left, Rabbit.”
She nodded in quiet understanding, her eyes sad. “Agoraphobia?”
“Yes.”
“You can leave your house though?”
I nodded. “It took a long time before I could. Lots of counseling. And Bear. He helped me. He needed to go out and I didn’t want him lost, so I had to go with him. But I never leave the property. I’m not sure I ever will.”
Rabbit was quiet. “I … I know who you are.”
I pulled back and looked at her. “What?”
“I saw the awards on your shelves while you were making dinner and I was putting away the medical books you left out. I saw your books on the bottom shelf. I’ve read all of them, Joshua. I know you’re a mystery writer. A very good one.”
I looked at her. Her gaze was soft and accepting.
I shrugged. “I suppose it was only a matter of time before you figured it out. I wasn’t trying to hide it. It’s just … well; J.B. Bennett is my professional persona. He doesn’t live here. Joshua does.”
She nodded. “I understand, Joshua. I won’t say anything. When I leave. Your secret is safe.”
My stomach tightened at her declaration.
When she left.
Because she would. Even she acknowledged that. The storm would end, the road would be plowed and she would leave. And, I would stay here and continue with my life. She would figure out her past, pick up the pieces of her life and move on. Those were the facts.
Suddenly, the room was too warm, and Rabbit was too close.
I pulled away and got out of bed.
“Joshua? What’s wrong? What did I say?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m thirsty and need a drink. Go back to sleep.”
“Are you coming back?” her voice was sad.
“No.”
I didn’t look back before I walked away.
Chapter Nine
Joshua
The rest of the night passed slowly. I didn’t even bother trying to sleep, as my mind went back and forth. In the early hours of the morning, the storm finally broke and the wind died down. I stood at the window watching the sun break, gazing at the vast amount of snow that had fallen. The world was white as far as the eye could see. Tree branches were weighed down heavily and ice was visible on the electric wires that I could see towards the one end of the property. I knew I would probably be without communication or power for at least a couple of weeks, maybe more. Mentally, I was going through the gas supply I had left compared to how long I thought it would be before I could get any delivered, when I heard a noise behind me.
I turned to see Rabbit hesitating in the kitchen, unsure if she should come any closer. She looked as exhausted as I felt. Bear stood beside her, eyeing me with utter disdain.
Traitorous dog.
I was exhausted and not in the mood for any kind of confrontation, even though I knew one was about to happen. “I made coffee,” I said, turning back to the window.
She nodded and retreated into the kitchen. I sighed and looked out into the vast white world again. I had to talk to her. I needed to stay away from her. And to do that, I had to get her to want to stay away from me.
A mug of coffee appeared before me. I thanked Rabbit and took a sip of the hot liquid, casually stepping away from her. “Storm is over.” I pointed out the window. “I’ll start plowing in a while.”
“Can I help somehow?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t like Bear out when I am driving the plow so he can stay inside with you.”
“Joshua?”
“Hmm?”
“What did I do last night? Why did you leave?” she asked nervously.
I sighed. I sat down on the chair and indicated she should sit on the sofa. I couldn’t sit beside her. Already, I could feel myself wanting to reach out and touch her. Make her smile. If I was close, I wasn’t sure I could resist.
“You didn’t do anything, Rabbit,” I assured her. “I did.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I crossed the line last night. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Talking to me? Telling me about your attack?”
I shook my head sadly. “No, I don’t regret telling you that. Kissing you.”
“You regret kissing me?”
I couldn’t look her in the eye and lie, so I stared at the floor. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She looked at me for a minute, puzzled. “I wanted you to kiss me, Joshua. We kissed each other.”
My heart clenched a little, hearing her say that. But I had to continue.
“Rabbit, you don’t know what you want. You’re confused and lost. You have no idea who you are.” I drew in a deep breath. “I have no idea who you are.”
Her voice was quiet. “What are you saying?”
“You could be married, Rabbit. There could be someone out there looking for you. You have a whole life you don’t know anything about. Right now, you’re struggling and I took advantage of that.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And I might not have anyone in my life.” She pulled the sleeve of her shirt up exposing the bruises staining her skin, “Or maybe the person in it did this.”
I averted my eyes. “That’s the problem, Rabbit. We don’t know. I have no right to add to the problem.”
“The problem? I’m a problem again?”
I stood up, walking over to the window. “No, Rabbit, you’re not a problem. My … attraction … to you is, and acting on it only complicates an already confusing situation.” I turned around and looked at her. “You need to rest and recover. I need to work. I think it’s best if we just try and stay away from each other as much as possible.”
“What if that isn’t what I want?”
“What do you think you want, Rabbit?”
“To be close to you. To get to know you.”
“To what end?”
“I … I’m attracted to you as well, Joshua. You make me feel safe. I thought about this all night. I don’t feel like there is anyone. I don’t have a wedding ring; I don’t have any longings for someone like I am missing them. If I had someone, wouldn’t I feel something? Some sense of someone?”
I wanted to tell her she was right. I wanted to tell her she was safe. But I couldn’t.
“You don’t know what you’re feeling. And I make you feel safe because, right now I’m the only person you have to depend on. That’s all.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m feeling,” she snapped at me.
“I’m trying to stop a huge mistake from happening, Rabbit. One that neither of us could take back,” I snapped back.
“And, you’re so sure it’d be a mistake?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I ran my hand through my hair in vexation. She wasn’t going to let this go. I straightened my shoulders and stared at her steadily.
“Because you want a relationship.”
“And you don’t?”
“No.”
“What do you want?”
I kept my voice flat. “I just want to fuck someone.”
She stepped back in shock.
“But last night you said …”
I laughed humorlessly. “Don’t you get it, Rabbit? I’m a man I’ve been alone for a long time. I’m attracted to you because you’re a woman. Nothing more. And last night? Words. I’m good with words. I’m a writer, remember? It worked didn’t it? I could have had you so easily …” I sneered at her.
Her hand flew to her mouth. I watched her eyes fill with tears of hurt. I went in for the kill.
“Is that what you want, Rabbit? A couple of weeks of mindless, meaningless sex with a stranger? Then you can go back to your life and pretend it didn’t happen? Will you be able to look your husband or boyfriend in the eye when they tell you how much they love you and how h
appy they are you’re back? I’m happy to accommodate if that’s what you’re after.”
She shook her head, the tears coursing down her cheeks.
I turned my back before I broke down in front of her.
“Just stay out of my way. I won’t take advantage of you anymore. As soon as the roads are clear, I’ll make sure you get to a hospital or police station.”
I heard the sound of her feet as she ran from the room.
My shoulders sagged.
She’d stay away from me now, for sure.
I came in from clearing the front of the house. I’d been at it for a couple of hours and I needed a break. The house was utterly silent. I hung up my wet clothes and went into the kitchen, passing the closed bedroom door. Nothing had changed or moved. Obviously, she hadn’t come out. I made a sandwich and hesitated. Should I offer her one? I looked over at Bear who was by the hearth and continuing to ignore me. I sat and ate, not even tasting what I was chewing. Not caring how it tasted, I just heated up some of the leftover coffee. Now that the snow had stopped, the temperature had dropped and it was cold out. I just needed the warmth. I added some logs to the fire and sat looking at the flames. I glanced towards the hall. Would Rabbit think to add logs and not let the fire go out?
I shook my head. Fuck. I didn’t want her cold or hungry. I just needed to stay away from her before I allowed something to happen that she might regret. If we acted on our impulses and it turned out she was married, she would regret it. I knew she would torture herself for it. I would rather she hate me, than carry that kind of guilt around.
I stood up and made another sandwich. Then, I went down the hall and knocked on the door. There was no answer but I opened it and went in. Rabbit was sitting in the chair by the window, with a blanket and a book. She stared at me wordlessly as I walked in. I placed the sandwich on the table beside her and went over to the fireplace, adding logs. “Don’t let the fire go out, Rabbit. We need it.”
She said nothing. I stood up and went over to my closet and grabbed some more dry clothes. “I don’t expect you to stay holed up in here. You can go anywhere you want it the house. And eat. You need to keep up your strength.”
Into The Storm Page 6
