by Maren Smith
Plus, he’d come away from the experience with one good friend and a special lady he wouldn’t mind kissing on the cheek if ever he saw them again.
“So what’s the issue now?” Noah asked, settling in to be a good agony aunt, if nothing else. “That feller you were telling me about, he hasn’t found her, has he?”
“Oh, I’m pretty sure he knows exactly where she is,” Garreth growled. “He wouldn’t dare come anywhere around here. So instead, he’s made his displeasure known in other ways.”
“Yeah?”
“You remember how I told you she left with nothing, right? No clothes, no shoes, no wallet, nothing. Right?”
“Right.” Noah nodded, though no one but the croc was there to see it.
“Okay, so she has a car. But when she signed a contract with Ethen, he made her put his name as co-owner on the title. First thing I did was drive out to his property to get the car, only to find out he’d sold it months ago. Did she get any of the money for it? No. Will police do anything about it? Of course not, because he was on the title and it only takes one owner’s signature to sell a car.”
Noah tsked.
“She’s got her own house, used to be her grandfather’s, been in the family for years. All this time, she’s been working and putting money in her bank account to keep up the insurance and maintenance fees on it, but guess what? She signed the house over to Ethen too and I’m pretty sure you can guess what that bastard did with it not two months after they got together.”
Noah was pretty sure he knew too.
“He sold it!” Garreth snarled. “We walked up to her front door only to find another family living there, and there’s nothing we can do about it. Ethen was registered as the legal owner! And that bank account she’s been putting all her money into?”
“The asshole had his name put on it,” Noah guessed grimly.
“And closed it out! She had thousands in there, by her estimate. Thousands! And that jackass… that… what is that sound?” Garreth asked, anger audibly diminishing, before in a startled tone, the American suddenly accused, “Dude! Are you peeing while we’re on the phone?”
“Nah,” Noah said, shaking off before stuffing himself back into his pants. “I’m on the river. That’s just the gentle sound of waves lapping at the boat, mate.”
He could hear Garreth’s frown in his voice. “Like I haven’t stood in front of a urinal every single day, multiple times a day, to the point that I don’t recognize that particular sound?” Garreth let it go. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that we had to order her birth certificate from the state so we could get her a new driver’s license. I paid the fees so she could get copies of her teaching license and certificates, and college degrees. We put her up in my spare room while she tries to rebuild her life and for the last five weeks, I have spared nothing in the attempt to make at least this one small corner of the world feel safe to her. What does that son of a bitch do?”
Returning to sit on his perch by the croc, Noah was almost afraid to guess.
“Monday, she went into work. She’s a teacher at Deal Middle School, been there since she graduated. Ethen hasn’t let her have friends, but she knows these people and they know her. And yet she gets met at the front doors by security, taken directly to the principal, who starts to show her all the private videos that Ethen anonymously messaged the school system during the night. Everything he’s forced her to do, including a bukkake party with half a dozen men coming on her face and the words ‘dirty cum slut’ written on her body. There is no more intimate way of attacking a woman in public than that.”
Garreth spat.
Noah agreed. He’d never met this Kitty woman, but his heart went out to her.
“She was fired on the spot for behavior unbecoming.”
Swearing under his breath, Noah bowed his head. He stared at his hands, loosely clasped between his knees.
“She’s done nothing for the last three days but sit in her closet and cry. That son of a bitch has her convinced that, one way or another, he’ll get her no matter where she goes. And I still can’t get her to go to the police. And I can’t get her to understand that while the contract she signed to Ethen might hold meaning in certain BDSM circles, it’s the next best thing to useless out in the real world, especially considering the abuse she’s suffered at his hands. She’s convinced she earned it, that she deserves it, and she’s even starting to say things like, if he’s going to get her anyway, she might as well go back. I’m halfway tempted to go to the police myself, except it would piss Hadlee off, Kitty would lose what little trust in me that she has, and Ethen is one of the best God-damn civil lawyers in his God-damn field. He’d happily ruin me, Kitty, Hadlee, our families and friends, and even Black Light. If he finds something he can’t do himself, then he’s got plenty of friends in high places to guarantee it happens anyway.”
His friend’s frustration was so palpable, Noah could feel it hanging in the air around him from all the way from America.
“I don’t know what to do,” Garreth finally said, and for the first time his tone was completely void of anger, aggravation, and even hope. He sounded defeated. “I… I don’t know.”
“Send her to me,” Noah said.
Garreth laughed, but it wasn’t really a happy sound. Even that sounded hopeless. “Yeah, right.”
“Nah, blokey, I’m serious.” He was too, which somewhat surprised even him. “Send her to me. She thinks he can get her anywhere she goes in the States? Well, he’s not king of shit out here. I got me a nice house on eighty-some acres of land, not far from a town of less than three thousand people, every one of whom’ll be happy to treat him like a tourist. Your friend can stay with me until she’s ready to start over.”
The other end of the phone fell silent. All Noah could hear was the gentle lapping of the river water against his boat, the chirping of night insects, and the low, seething growl of the crocodile no longer thrashing or even pulling at the bait line that held it trapped.
“Are you serious?” Garreth finally asked, in a tone that suggested he didn’t know which of them was crazier: Noah for making the suggestion, or himself for considering it.
“Yeah, sure.” Noah sat back, smiling once more now that the problem was decided. “I’m not royalty, but I’ll move some of me shoes out of the spare room and be on me best behavior.”
Garreth was quiet again. “If we do it on the downlow and I take her the next town over, we might be able to get her a replacement passport before Ethen can do anything to stop it.”
“You might even get her all the way out of the country,” Noah put in cheerfully. “Once she’s over here, it’s no worries. I’ll take care of everything. This’ll be a good place for her. Nothing but wide-open spaces. Nature, peace, and solitude everywhere you look. How can a person not heal out here? Plus”—he added, when Garreth remained silent—“I’ll be right beside her every step o’ the way, looking out for her.”
After a long moment, punctuated only by the chirping night sounds and low reptilian growls, Garreth finally said, “I’ll talk to Hadlee and it’ll take at least a month to get the passport. But frankly, I think that’s the best option we’ve got at this point.”
Noah grinned. “Of course, it is. I thought of it.”
“Arrogant ass,” Garreth snorted, a trickle of real amusement leeching back into his voice. That was reward enough for Noah.
“Best mates, blokey,” he said fondly. “Best mates.”
When Garreth hung up the phone, Noah tapped his headset and indulged in a contented sigh. Good though it might be for this Kitty whoever, Noah was a little surprised at himself for offering. He liked his life. He liked living alone. Occasionally, a mate or two might wander out of town as far as his place for a beer and a chitchat, but honestly, he wasn’t one for indulging company for long. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone stay over. His sister, probably, maybe eight or ten years ago. When it came to visiting with the ladies, well… he
did all that at the clubs he toured while on vacation or in Cairns on party nights.
“A little change is good for the soul,” Noah decided, because the offer was already extended and Noah was nothing if not a man of his word. He could adjust himself to the idea of a houseguest, for at least a couple of weeks.
And really, where else in the world could a person find this kind of beauty and peace in which to heal a battered soul? He tipped his smile first to the multitude of stars that speckled a near-cloudless sky, and then down to the salt-water croc still hooked on his bait line.
“Are you zonked?” he asked it. All he could see of the animal was a six-inch length of snout above the waterline about two feet from his boat. When all he got was a low, seething hiss, Noah swiveled on his seat, took hold of the reel handle and put his back into drawing the crocodile in closer. He reeled until the massive, craggy head was all the way out of the water. It hissed again, the moonlit water all around it rippling. “I know,” Noah soothed, and not without some sympathy. Standing up, he picked up his rifle from the bottom of the boat and put a shot in the chamber. “I know it’s not much o’ a consolation for you, but I’ll make sure your meat don’t go to waste and your hide’ll be treated with respect. Next reincarnation, mate, try to steer clear of the pets and kiddies, all right?”
His aim was dead-on. It only took one bullet, a mechanical hoist and some under his breath swearing to haul the animal up into the bottom of his boat. Patting it on the hide, he flopped down on the rear bench by the motor to catch his breath. Disturbed by first the rifle report and then by the ruckus that followed, all the nighttime insects that had fallen silent cautiously returned to singing again. Noah closed his eyes, listening. He’d vacationed all over the world, touring from one dungeon to the next, letting his skill with the bullwhip lead the way, but there truly was no place on earth better than home. He was going to do his best by Kitty Whoever, but there was no doubt in his mind that, by the time she was ready to go home again, she would be rested in both body and mind, and braced to tackle whatever she had to as she attempted to re-start her life.
Australia was irresistible that way.
Who knew, she’d probably never want to leave.
Six weeks later…
Kitty hadn’t been in Queensland for more than ten minutes before Australia tried to kill her, and that was only the first time.
She stepped off the plane with nothing but the carryon that held all her worldly belongings. Which only meant, that that was all she had. Nothing in that bag was actually hers. Hadlee had given her a nightshirt, a dress that was almost too short for her, some t-shirts, and a pair of jeans that they’d found at the Goodwill. The jeans were bought with Hadlee’s money because Ethen had stolen all of Kitty’s. Not even the bag was hers, or the toiletries, or even the hair ties. Kitty had nothing, was nothing, except a burden that had grown too heavy for her old friend and her new man to carry, and which now had to be shuttled off onto someone else. Someone she didn’t even know.
That wasn’t exactly fair or true, and the minute it crossed Kitty’s ungrateful mind, she was heartily ashamed of herself. Making this move had been a group decision. Sort of. Hadlee and Garreth had sat her down over a pizza dinner and presented this as a plan. While Kitty forced herself to choke down half a slice (every bite tasting like ash because she still could barely make herself eat without Ethen there to grant permission), Garreth laid out all the pros and cons of traveling to Australia.
First, she wouldn’t be staying with a stranger. She knew this Noah Carver, he had said. She might not have met the man properly, but she had seen him that night at Black Light when he’d scened with Hadlee. Kitty didn’t tell him that all she remembered of that night was the horrible ride home and what Ethen had done to her once they got there.
Ethen couldn’t touch her in Australia, Hadlee had pointed out. But probably only because she’d been away from him for so long now that she’d forgotten Ethen could touch them from anywhere. He had connections. When those connections weren’t enough, he had friends with even longer connections. Oh yes, Ethen could touch her in Australia. Kitty knew that all the way down to her bones.
In Australia, Garreth had said, she wouldn’t have to be afraid that she might run into Ethen every time she left the house. Or see him when she looked out the window, just sitting in his car and staring at the apartment — like he’d done almost daily during the first few weeks after she’d run away, because even though she’d left Hadlee’s cellphone in the ice and snow outside that archaic phonebooth, he’d still known exactly where she’d gone. Or wake up in the night in a cold sweat because he’d snuck into her bedroom to stand over her, with his belt or the Punishment Paddle in his hand — which he hadn’t done ever, but which happened in her nightmares every time she dozed off.
On the surface of it, their arguments all made sense. Underneath, however, Kitty knew it didn’t matter what she did. She could fly to the moon; Ethen would still find her, punish her, and drag her back home again. She knew that, but she agreed to go so they’d stop talking about it, and then excused herself to the bathroom and promptly threw up. In the last five weeks, she’d lost eleven pounds she didn’t have to lose. She was starting to look bony and her eyes hollowed, especially with the bruise-like circles that lack of sleep had painted beneath them.
Four hours at a passport agency and two weeks later, she had her passport in her hand and Garreth had gone online to buy the plane ticket. Four days after that, she was on a plane, with a fantastic view of the right-side wing and the sickening fear that behind each new passenger, she was going to see Ethen stepping onboard. He never did, but that didn’t stop her from expecting it to be him each time someone passed by her. It was a twenty-seven-hour flight with two stops, first in Los Angeles and then in Sydney, and not only did Kitty not sleep, but her leg never stopped jiggling once.
And then Australia tried to kill her.
Unsure where to go or even what this Noah Carver might look like, she stepped out of the airport into the full blanket of the Australian sun and a gigantic wasp flew straight into her hair. Kitty dropped her luggage right there in front of the revolving doors. Screaming and leaping around, she tried to disassociate herself from her hair. She could feel it crawling in the long strands. That the angry buzzing she could hear would eventually precede a sting, she knew without doubt, and she was so terrified of the coming pain that she didn’t even react when a strange man grabbed her around the waist, bending her straight forward with all her hair hanging to the pavement.
“Hang on, love. I’ve got you,” the man said, tugging and plucking at her hair in a ginger attempt to get the wasp out without getting stung himself. She could not have cared less that he accidentally pulled a couple strands out. All she cared about was that blessed moment when the buzzing ceased to be right by her ear and he flung it away. He jerked her upright, jumping back as it dive-bombed them with a single pass and then flew off somewhere where people weren’t half so crazy.
Hugging herself, Kitty stood frozen in that strange man’s steadying embrace, shaking, panting, and struggling to swallow her pattering heart back down into her chest.
“You’re all right now, love,” he said, low and comforting, his hand petting down the length of her dark hair from the top of her head to the middle of her shoulder blades. “You’re a good girl, and you’re all right.”
Her whole body shuddered, but not in an unpleasant way. Rather, it was the first small measure of relief that she’d felt in almost eight weeks, and it came from the hand of a stranger, caressing the back of her head.
The relief lasted only a heartbeat or two. As the fear dissipated, suddenly Kitty became aware of the squeeze of masculine arms. It was a very odd thing, to know with such certainty that Ethen had not caught up with her and yet to also know it was him. Her panicking body chose the irrational over the logical, and with a violent twist, she shoved against the stranger’s chest, knocking them both back a step.
Her f
ists came up, which was laughable. She’d never taken a defense course or been in a fight in her life. Also, she was shaking. If she hadn’t visited the ladies’ room on her way out of the airport, she’d have wet herself before taking a swing.
“Get away from me!” she gasped through a throat grown hoarse and tight.
His hands were already up in the air. Although smiling, he also backed away. It was the smile that stopped her first. She tried to see it as ugly at first, mocking. But the more she blinked and the further he backed away, the more that smile turned open and friendly. His had to be the whitest teeth she’d ever seen, but maybe it was because his skin was so bronzed from the sun.
She was tall, but he was taller, by at least five inches. His shoulders were broad and his forearms muscular, which made the rest of him—dressed as he quite casually was in loose-fitting tan khaki trousers and a white button-down business shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows—look chiseled, lean, and completely relaxed. He was handsome too, in a rugged, outdoorsy kind of way. His hair beneath the cover of the cream-colored cowboy hat he wore was short and more blond than brown. Like his mouth, his bright blue eyes were friendly and smiling.
“Sorry about that,” he said gamefully. “Wasn’t my intent to give you such a fright.” Tipping his head, he edged closer and lowered his voice, as if they were playful conspirators. “Truth be told, you looked to be in a bit of trouble. Me manliness overcame me. I couldn’t help myself.” Dropping his arms, he stuck out his hand. “Name’s Noah Carver. I believe I’ve been sent to fetch you.”
