Fever

by Carnal, MJ

  She must feel my eyes on her because she finally turns to me.

  “What now?” It’s barely a whisper, and if I hadn’t been looking at her, I might have missed it.

  “Get out of the truck. We talk. Simple as that. It only becomes this giant mess of immature games when you become difficult. So work with me, because I’m sick of fucking playing games.” I think that is nice enough until the tears start rolling down her velvety cheeks.

  Goddammit.

  I climb down from the cab and start making my way around the hood to her side, fully expecting to have to pull her out and throw her over my shoulder. Surprisingly, she is waiting next to the door, and is clearly pissed about her long climb down.

  “This way.” The welcome is just rolling off my words. I’m sure she can feel the vibes choking her. It’s hard to miss when someone would rather be anywhere than with the person they are with. Hard to tell if I would even be going through all this shit if it hadn’t been for Greg and his request to help his friend. My gut tells me that I should just leave her alone, forget about her and the answers I crave. My gut is screaming at me to let it die, pass it over to Locke or Coop, and pretend I never looked back into those pale green eyes again.

  Fat chance of that.

  I open the door to the mudroom off the garage and motion for her to enter. The house is dark, so she pauses next to the door. Coming in behind her, I enter the alarm code and snap on the light to the kitchen. There are chrome appliances, dark wood cabinets, granite countertops, and a whole lot of nothing else. No table, just two barstools next to the island. It screams welcome home.

  I point over to the stool and bark off one word. “Sit.”

  She is looking at her feet, doesn’t even attempt to fight me, and sits. I give her a second. She knows why we are here, so hopefully she will just tell me what I need to know without making this a big deal. Ten minutes go by with me looking at her and her wringing her hands together in her lap.

  “Talk,” I bark, the sound vibrating off the naked walls.

  If I hadn’t been observing her for the last eternity, I might have missed the small jump she takes at my tone. It’s hard to tell if I scared her or if something else is working behind her eyes when she snaps her head up.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.” More whispers. Seems like I might need hearing aids for this conversation.

  “Well, let’s see. I didn’t drag you down here to give you a tour, I don’t need to catch up on the latest town gossip, and I sure as fuck didn’t bring you here for the company, so that just leaves one thing. First, you explain, in detail, what is going on with your husband.” I spit the word out, the bitterness on my tongue loud and clear. “Then you can explain to me what that fuckedup package meant. Details, Izzy. This isn’t a game, and I tell you this, if it hadn’t been for Greg basically begging me to help you, I would not be doing this.”

  It takes her a second; I can see my words working around her mind. She opens her mouth a few times, but words never come out. Right when I start to lose any thread of patience I have left, she finally speaks.

  “Can’t someone else do this? Do you have to be the one?” I want to throttle her. Fucking bullshit. Greg will owe me big for this.

  “End the high school bullshit. He didn’t ask me personally to take your shit for the hell of it. I’m good at what I do, Izzy. Locke and Coop? Sure, they could do it, but I can do it better. Now, what the fuck?”

  She closes her eyes for a few minutes before inhaling deeply. “Brandon, my ex…well, almost ex. We had a…challenging marriage. I left a little over two years ago and moved here. He’s been fighting the divorce.” Didn’t take much of a deduction to guess she was leaving something out—a whole lot of somethings.

  “Let me ask you something, Izzy. How do you expect me to look into this, into him, without anything other than your telling me your perfect marriage didn’t work? What, did he cheat on you or something? Finally get enough of living the perfect little life? Tell me, because I just don’t get it. The little I was able to dig up this week makes it look like you had everything your little heart desired. And what I really don’t get—what I really don’t understand—is why he won’t just let you go.” Even to my own ears, that comes out harsher than I intended it to.

  A little light on this situation would have been nice, because when she bursts into tears and runs off into the darken halls of my house, I am completely thrown. Shocked. What in the fucking hell? Grumbling like a fool, I take off to find her.

  Almost thirty minutes later, I finally narrow the search. Really, it shouldn’t have been this much of a challenge since I have more empty rooms than furniture. This is what I get for buying a six-fucking-bedroom house I do not need. I look in every room on the main floor—nothing. I jog up the stairs and look in every room—nothing. I finally catch a break when I pass the bedroom next to the stairs—soft crying. I already checked this room and she wasn’t there. I use this room to store all my old case files. Being that all the other rooms except the one I sleep in are empty, she couldn’t have picked a better hiding spot.

  I finally find her wedged between two big stacks of boxes. She has completely moused her way between them and turned into herself, legs pulled close to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around her body. She is rocking, fucking rocking, back and forth.

  “Izzy, come out.” I try.

  Nothing but soft cries.

  “Come on now. Get out of there.” And try.

  Silence.

  “Really, Izzy, I’m too fucking big to crawl in there for you. Out.” And try.

  I keep going for ten long-ass, frustrating minutes with no luck.

  Enough of this shit. I start picking up the boxes around her, moving one at a time away from her small ball-like body. Once I have enough cleared that I can touch her, I reach my hand out to pull her up and out. I don’t expect her to throw herself back away from my outstretched hand. She has holed herself up so well that there isn’t much room between her head and the wall. She makes contract with a sick thud.

  “Fuck,” I hiss out before scooping her up and carrying her down to my room. Flicking the lights on with my elbow, I walk over to the bed and place her gently down against the mattress before running my fingers through her hair.

  Nice lump, stupid girl.

  “All right, Izzy. Enough of this. Now we can add explaining what the hell that was to the list.”

  My patience is shot, blown to fucking dust. My mood is deteriorating with every second, and she just looks at me with empty eyes. It’s like she isn’t even here with me. She just keeps roaming her eyes over my face. As pissed as I am right now, I can’t help but become sucked into her all over again. She looks so scared, but it’s the longing I see all over her face that has me transfixed. It’s like someone just kicked her puppy, killed her cat, and told her she wouldn’t get a pony for Christmas.

  “Please, talk.”

  She jumps at my hushed pleading. It takes her a minute and more of that heavy analyzing gaze before she speaks again. Her tone is dead; she sounds so small and defeated. Chills break out all over my body with her next words.

  “It was so hard, Ax. So hard.” She looks away, focusing off into space instead of on me. “The first year was okay. He worked a lot but it wasn’t bad. He didn’t want me to work, said the only thing I needed to do was care for him, the house, and any…kids. What did I know? Stupid, broken Iz, what did I know? Huh?”

  She finally looks back at me; she looks like some spirit has returned but not much. I know this won’t be good before she even says a word. I have to fight the urge to punch something, reminding myself that I asked for this.

  “The second year was when he started to change a little. We didn’t go visit my grandparents as much. He was always asking me to stay home and not meet Dee for lunch or dinner. Little things that I didn’t notice at first…until they became big things.” She gives a bitter snort before taking another big intake of air. “I hadn’t seen
Dee in a few weeks. I think it was a Wednesday… I don’t know. He was going to be late that day, and the only thing I could think was, Finally…finally I can see Dee. A half-hour coffee date with Dee turned into a split lip. I didn’t even think he was out of line, you know. I thought I deserved it. I think Dee always knew things were off in the Hunter house. About a month after that, I ran into her again. She begged me to open up to her, but I told her I was fine. Fine. What a joke that was.”

  If I couldn’t feel my blood rushing through my body right now, I would be convinced I have turned to stone. Words were beyond me, and my earlier taunts were smacking me all in the face.

  I will kill this motherfucker.

  “Princess,” I reach down for her hand but she pulls it close to her body. “Was that the only time he put his hands on you?” I try for soft, but the lethal fury in my voice can’t be missed.

  “For a while. They didn’t start getting bad for another few months. He acted like he was sorry and it was an accident. They didn’t get bad until around our third anniversary.”

  “What exactly is defined as bad? Because I can’t find any good way for a man to touch a woman like that.”

  When her eyes come back to me and that single fat tear slips from her eye, I know. I just know.

  “Don’t you feel pity for me. This wasn’t your mess. You didn’t make him do it. I should have left, been strong enough to leave. I didn’t have anyone, Axel, so don’t think I didn’t think about it. He was smart. He cut me off from everyone. I didn’t even get to go to my grandmother’s funeral, and Pop… He wasn’t doing well either. I didn’t want Dee to know how bad it was. I was stuck… Stuck with no one.”

  This heavy pain shoots through my left side at her words. I should have been there, and as ridiculous the thought is, I can’t shake the thought that I let this girl down somehow. I have spent years hating her, thinking she had just forgotten us and moved on. To know she suffered is not sitting well.

  “You know about Mom and Dad, right?” She looks up at me, all sad and broken, for confirmation. With my weak nod, she continues. “Dee was all I had left. She finally caught me alone one day. I was picking up some groceries. That was one of the only things I was allowed to do alone. She pulled me into the bathroom and begged me to talk, begged me to leave. I brushed her off again. She bought me a prepaid phone and told me to call her, day or night, if I needed her. We were able to sneak a few calls and secret meetings but not many. She didn’t live far, close enough to come when I could get away.” She stops for a while, and I just sit there, struck dumb, waiting on her to continue, all the while struggling not to go find this fucker.

  “Are you sure we need to go over this? It isn’t pretty, Axel.”

  I want to scream, No. No I don’t want to hear this. Anything but this. “Yeah, Izzy, keep going.”

  “Okay…” Pause. “Well…” Pause. Inhale. Exhale. “A few years back, I went to meet Dee. Nothing big, just wanted to see her. We had it all planned. I called her the day before from the phone she gave me, told her I missed her and just wanted to spend some time together. I set dinner in the slow cooker, ran my errands, and snuck in a Dee visit. It would have been fine and he never would have been the wiser but I was running late. He got home right after me, and even though I thought I had made it…he knew.” She stops and levels her eyes with mine. Her eyes almost look gray. Her eyes always used to change with her moods…and gray was always the one I hated the most. “That was the night I finally used that phone for her to save me.”

  I don’t realize I’m not breathing until my chest starts hurting. I can’t even move, can’t even allow myself to move. My God…

  “I got lucky. When I passed out, the game wasn’t fun anymore, and for the first time, he left after he finished with me. Dee got there and got me out quick. I haven’t seen him since the day I picked up my stuff. The divorce has been in limbo for the last six or so months.”

  I can’t stand to hear this story. I wish to God this were just a tale, not the life she was living when I thought she was happy. Not touching her is becoming unbearable. I reach over and grab her hand before she is able to pull it away, rubbing my thumb over her soft skin and looking into her eyes. As hard as it is for me to hear, it can’t be easy to retell.

  “I don’t even know what to say right now, Princess. I…I just don’t know. It kills me to know you had to live with any abuse for a second, but years… Izzy, I have never wished harder that I would have been there.” Before I even finish speaking, she wrenches her hand away and scoots to the other side of my bed.

  “No…you do not call me that, Axel. And we are not going there. I’ve explained my marriage, but I will not go there with you. Leave it in the past, please.” Her raw desperation is the only thing that keeps me from fighting her on this. We will be talking about that, but I’m smart enough to know she will shut down if I force her now.

  “All right, Izzy, I got you. Explain the package to me. Greg told me what it was, but I don’t get how it matches the story you told me. Did you have…kids?” The cost my control takes to get that out with a neutral tone is high. The thought of another man touching her is enough, but to think of another man planting his seed in her body—unimaginable.

  She was mine.

  She is mine.

  She will always fucking be mine.

  I can see the walls coming up instantly; she is blocking me out and masking her emotions perfectly. I have no idea what made her shut down this time. I could stick a metal rod up her ass and she still wouldn’t be as stiff as she is right now.

  “We couldn’t have children,” she says quickly and quietly. “That’s all that was—a reminder that I couldn’t give him children.”

  Done. That statement is said in such a way that I know there will be no talking about that in detail. I’ll give her that play. I don’t know many women who aren’t a little upset about not being able to have children, and deep down, I can admit the world without a chance of more Izzy in it is a dull place.

  “That was the first time he contacted you?” I ask in an attempt to change the subject, making a mental note to ask Greg for more detail later.

  “Not at first. I think he had a hard time finding me. I just recently started working, so he would have had to look for Dee to find me. There have been some calls, but nothing bad. Not until the package.”

  There’s something I’m missing. I can’t ignore the feeling that there is a big part of this picture missing. This asshole has been pretty silent and distant for so long. With the exception of the divorce hold-up, he hasn’t been making waves. Something is off, but I can tell she isn’t going to open up much more. I check the time and see that it is creeping up on dawn, just cementing the fact that we are done for the night.

  “We need to sit down with Greg and the boys. I need to check out the system in your house and then you need to tell me how you want this to go. But that can all wait for tomorrow. It’s late and I’m sure your earlier brush with adventure isn’t exactly keeping you wide awake. I’ll grab some clothes. You can use the bathroom then sleep. We can call the guys over in the morning.”

  Her eyes are wide—wide and shocked. “I’m not sleeping here. You can take me home or I can have someone come get me. You wanted to talk and we talked. Now I want to leave.”

  Throwing my head back and laughing was probably not the wisest move, but she must be out of her fucking mind if she thinks I am going to let her out of my sight before I can nail down a solid plan. She doesn’t know it yet, but we are about to become the best of friends.

  “Not fighting about this shit. It’s late and I’m sure anyone you would call has already gone to bed. One night isn’t going to fucking kill you, babe. This bed might as well have the Gulf in the middle of it. I’ll stay on my side. Tomorrow we will figure this out and get this mess straightened out. Don’t piss me off. Take the clothes. Go get fucking cleaned up and sleep.” I walk over to the dresser and yank out a tee and some briefs, tossing them over to
her, hitting her right in her stunned face. That seems to knock her out of whatever has her all tied up. With a huff and a whole lot of sass, she stomps over to my bathroom and slams the door.

  I feel the strings of the years of hating her slowly start to loosen.

  I can’t ignore the desire to make her mine. It is still there, but I can’t forget that she left and forgot about me pretty damn easily. I will take care of this problem and then—then—we will take care of us. We have enough to deal with right now; figuring out everything else can wait. I just can’t decide if I want to figure us out for closure or to bring us back together. Only time will tell; one thing at a time.

  I step out of the room, pull my phone out of my pocket, and dial up Greg. One ring and that fucker answers like he has been waiting. I’m not sure what to take from their relationship, but I am not happy with how close they seem.

  “Is she okay?” he asks, and fuck me, he sounds wrecked.

  No, not wrecked. He sounds destroyed.

  “She will be. Told me about the ex. You did not tell me he fucking hurt her. You did not tell me a fucking thing about how bad it was, Greg. Problem husband not wanting a divorce—that is what you said. Can you imagine my shock when I find out he slapped her around?”

  “Act like a bitch later, Reid. How is she?”

  “That shit isn’t finished with me and you, hear me that. She’s changing. Keeping her here for tonight. Family meeting, motherfucker—my house, tomorrow morning.” I should be glad she has someone determined to be her support but that is getting locked down. I am back and Greg isn’t taking that job from me.

  “She’s sleeping there? You have one bed, Reid. I can be there in ten to take her home. I’ll stay there until tomorrow when we can get together. Then we can reassess.”

  “No. End it, Greg. I will fight you and fight you hard on this one.”

  His harsh exhale comes over the line. “I don’t like this, not one fucking bit. If you fuck her up, swear to fucking Christ, I will kill you.”