Forrest was busy making grilled cheese sandwiches and soup when Sasha came into the kitchen. The aroma added to her heightened senses, nauseating her as she broke out in a cold sweat. “Do you have a bathroom?”
“Sure. Down the hall on your right. We’ll be ready to eat soon.”
Sasha didn’t respond, but followed his directions, disappearing down the hall. Forrest flipped the sandwiches in the skillet.
A shiver ran up his spine. Where did he put his keys? He checked his pocket, to no avail, then remembered throwing them on the table when he ran in to see who his intruder was. Glancing at the table he didn’t see his keys. They weren’t on the floor either. What was taking Sasha so long in the bathroom?
A sickening thought crossed his mind. Acting on impulse, he ran out the front door. His gut instincts paid off. Lunging, he tackled Sasha before she could get to the driver’s side of the door. Lucky for him his instincts kicked in, or he’d be the one who was stranded. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Sasha screamed and tried to kick him, digging into his exposed flesh with her fingernails. Forrest grabbed hold of her arms and pinned them to the snow covered ground. “Stop! Don’t you touch me, pig.”
“Look, Sasha, I don’t know what’s going on, but you have to calm down. Do you understand?”
She continued to struggle, her head bobbing from side-to-side. Her body grew weary. She stopped fighting. He eased up. She immediately lunged forward and sank her teeth into his shoulder.
“Ah….”
“Let me go,” she whimpered.
Forrest edged himself up on his knees, continuing to keep her arms pinned to the ground. He winced from the pain in his shoulder. If she were a man…
The tear stained face beneath him betrayed deep pain. His heart softened, but not enough to free the wildcat imprisoned within his grasp. “Do you want me to let you up?”
She nodded as her tears began to flow more freely.
“Okay. If you promise to behave yourself, we’ll go back inside. When the snow lets up, I promise I will get you back to campus.”
Sasha nodded again.
Forrest eased himself up, keeping a grip on her arms the whole time. “I’m going to pick up my keys. Don’t try anything.”
The look of steel in his eyes alarmed her; she wasn’t foolish enough to press her luck a second time. Obediently, she followed him back into the cabin; feeling guilty that she still had her coat on and he had to bear the cold snow against his flesh. Her gaze focused on the scrapes on his arm. “I hurt you.”
Forrest closed the door behind them and led her to the kitchen table. “Take off your coat and sit down.” The smell of burning cheese filled the room. “Shoot.”
Rushing to the stove, he turned off the burners and scooped the sandwiches out of the skillet with a spatula. “Hope you don’t mind lightly charred cheese. I think the soup survived.”
Forrest sat two bowls of soup on the kitchen table, then retrieved two plates. Sasha winced. It was her fault. Lord, help me. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Don’t sweat it." He couldn’t figure her out. Was she running from something? And why did she end up on his doorstep of all places? Unaccustomed to women crying, he softened. "Just do me a favor, don’t try anything stupid—ah, anything else, okay? And if you have the urge to bite something, please make sure it's your sandwich and not any parts of my anatomy.”
Her eyes widened, then she nodded in agreement.
“Good. I’ll say grace.”
He was a Christian? Sasha sat mesmerized as she listened to Forrest give thanks. Maybe he wasn't bad. Not like…
Chapter Two
On Sunday, Forrest caught a glimpse of Sasha inside the corridor of the campus library. She stomped her feet to shake the remnants of snow from her boots. He eyed her curiously as she went to the nonfiction section of the library. He assumed she hadn’t known he was there since she didn’t acknowledge his presence when she walked past his table. She was different today, not the scared creature he had witnessed days before, which puzzled him. Why should he care? For some reason, though, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
Glasses. She was wearing them again. He didn’t recall her wearing them the day he caught her climbing into his cabin window. Yet she had them on the first time they met, and today, her hair was tucked underneath a cap. A low chuckle escaped as he remembered the journey back to campus from his cabin. Never would he have imagined driving in the dead of winter with the window down. Today he could laugh about it, Saturday, he hadn’t felt like laughing, but Sasha had insisted she was suffocating. No matter how much her teeth chattered, she didn’t roll it up until they were stopped outside her dorm.
She was peculiar all right. He smiled and tried to refocus on where she had moved to, when he spotted her frozen look and someone blocking her exit, trapping her between two rows of bookshelves. Poor fool, Forrest thought to himself. Doesn’t the guy know better than to detain her? She’s liable to knock down all the bookshelves in order to get out of the confining space. Well, he’d better go rescue the guy before he found out the hard way.
Forrest froze in his tracks when he saw the look of fear on Sasha’s face. It was only a moment, but long enough for her to shove the guy out of the way and dart for the exit.
“Sasha, wait.” He ran after her and stopped at the top of the stairs outside of the library. She had already made her way down the steps and was running at the pace of a sprinter. What happened? Surely nothing that guy said would have made her take off like that.
Determined to find out, he went back into the library. Recognizing the guy, he headed over to talk to him. Doug was one of the richest guys on campus and with his blond hair and pearly white teeth, most girls flocked to him like a bee to honey. “Hey, Doug. What happened with her?”
Doug laughed. “Oh, I just asked her if she wanted to go out again sometime. Guess she wasn’t interested.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Forrest agreed.
That seemed to set Doug off. He frowned. “Well, some girls are easier than others. She can’t say she didn’t have a good time the last time we went out.” Doug smiled and let out a menacing chuckle.
“What do you mean?”
“Just that some girls are easy to persuade and others take a bit more coaxing, but you eventually get what you want.” Doug snickered.
“What if they don’t want…?” Forrest asked. He’d talked to Doug before, but hadn’t seen that sinister look he was seeing in his eyes. It made him feel uneasy. “What then?”
Doug laughed. “Then you just have to be a bit more persuasive.”
Forrest could feel his temper rising. “Like force yourself on them?” Was that why Sasha was so afraid to be alone with him? “Is that what you did with Sasha?”
“Hey, man, don’t act like I did anything wrong," Doug said, and smiled. "She knows she wanted it, too.”
“Funny, she doesn’t appear to feel that way. In fact, she seemed rather repulsed by you. Not that I blame her.” Forrest grabbed Doug by the collar, balled his hand into a fist, and drew back, intent on making contact with that smug look. Unfortunately, before he could complete his task, his arm was restrained. Turning, he glared at the intruder.
“Forrest, you don’t want to do this,” Nick said in a low voice.
“Oh, yes, I do.” With that, he pulled his arm from Nick’s grip and punched Doug, sending him cascading into the bookshelf, which in turn tipped over to land braced against the wall, spilling all of its contents into the aisle.
Doug shook his head, rubbed his jaw, and got back up. “You’re going to pay for that one.”
“Yeah, well. Would you like to take it outside? I’d be glad to finish,” Forrest stormed.
“Forrest, come on. Let’s get out of here. You need to calm down.” Nick firmly pulled on Forrest’s arm to encourage him to leave.
He followed his friend when the librarian came over to examine the mess. “Who’s going to clean this u
p?”
“He is,” Forrest called over his shoulder. “It’s time he learned to clean up after himself and take some responsibility.”
The cold wind blew against Forrest’s face, but he was numb to his surroundings. He continued walking, unsure of where he was headed until he stopped outside of a building and stared at the glass doors.
“Is there some reason you stopped here?”
Turning, Forrest hadn’t noticed that Nick had continued to walk with him. “Yes. I guess there is. It’s the dorm of a woman I dropped off here last night.”
“The one who ran out of the library?”
Forrest nodded. “I think he raped her.”
“Whoa, that’s some heavy accusations. Are you sure?”
“Not beyond the shadow of a doubt, but I’d stake my next paycheck on it. She was too funny…”
“What do you mean? Too funny?” Nick asked
Forrest explained his previous encounters with Sasha and how she had reacted. “She even made me drive her back here with the window open because she couldn’t breathe. Then when she saw him… I knew something was wrong by the look on her face, the terror in her eyes. I thought maybe she was feeling closed in again. You know, like whatever it is when someone’s afraid of being confined.”
Forrest snapped his fingers as he remembered, then continued, “Claustrophobic. Then I heard him ask her if she didn’t want to go out again. That’s when she ran.”
“I know he’s kind of a ladies man, but there are many women who wouldn’t mind accommodating him. There are a lot of gold diggers here that wouldn’t mind snagging a rich guy on campus. Especially with the bucks his father has.”
“You think I’m lying?” Forrest couldn’t believe his friend didn’t think it was possible.
“No. I didn’t say I thought you were lying. You just need to be careful hurling accusations around unless she plans on pressing charges. You can’t prove anything and you don’t want him stirring up trouble. You do know what defamation of character is, don’t you?”
Forrest tensed. “Yeah, I know.”
“Then tread lightly.”
Closing his eyes for a fraction of a second, Forrest thought about it. His heart ached for Sasha right now. It wasn’t fair for her to live like this. When he opened his eyes, Nick had his back to him and was walking away. He watched his friend leave, considering his words. Nick was right, as much as he hated to admit it; he couldn’t go storming around no matter how much he detested Doug, or the thought of what he might have done. Right now, he needed to find Sasha and make sure she was all right.
Marching into the dorm he looked around, unsure where to go. He didn’t know which room was hers, or he would have gone straight there. No, he chastised himself, you have to think. The last thing you want to do is frighten her any more.
A tall blonde was standing near a magazine rack. Forrest headed over to her. “Excuse me. Do you know what room Sasha… a… Steinfeld, that’s it, Sasha Steinfeld is in?”
The woman looked up from a magazine in her hands. “Her room is on the second floor, third door on the right.”
Forrest turned to leave.
“But she’s not there.”
He turned back around and waited for the woman to give him more information. Instead she continued flipping through her magazine. “And do you know where she might be?” he prompted.
“Huh?” She looked back up at him. “Ah, no, but I saw her pull off around ten minutes ago. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her. She drives a green Escort. If you don’t see it out front, she’s probably not here then. Come back when you see her car.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled and left. Where was she?
By Wednesday, he still hadn’t run into Sasha and he was beginning to worry. Something about her green eyes haunted him. There was a pain, or vulnerability there, that beckoned someone to help, yet at the same time her glasses served to reflect her inner turmoil and keep others from looking into her soul. He’d seen a glimpse and something—he didn’t know what—compelled him to look deeper.
Lord, I don’t know what it is about her, but something makes me feel like I need to help her. I’m not sure if it’s Your prompting or not, help me to know what to do and if it’s where You want me to be.
Forrest felt better after laying his burdens at God’s feet. If anyone could help, he knew God could. With a sense of peace, he went to clock in before he began work.
“Hey, Forrest, the Dean wants to see you right away.”
Forrest paused to acknowledge his supervisor. “Sure thing. I’ll clock in and head on over there.”
“That won’t be necessary,” his supervisor informed him.
Bewildered, Forrest stopped and stared at his supervisor. “Is something wrong?” He’d never had a problem before. Every day he showed up and did his job and even put in extra hours when it was needed.
The older man shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to say. You’ll have to take it up with him.”
With a nod of his head, Forrest took off in the direction of the Dean’s office. What could the Dean want? Whatever it was, he didn’t like the feeling of uneasiness that settled in the pit of his stomach. Something wasn’t right. And where was Sasha? It bothered Forrest that he hadn’t seen her in a couple days. Lord, I don’t know why, but I can’t stop worrying about her.
The Dean’s secretary was on the phone when he entered the office. He took a seat and waited for her to finish her call. She looked at him once, but it was as if he wasn’t even there. Her facial expression didn’t change in the least and she continued chattering away. Forrest crossed his leg and rested his ankle on his other thigh, prepared to spend a while waiting.
The minutes ticked by, but for him, it felt like an eternity. Forrest examined the office while he waited. Pictures of past Deans adorned the walls. The smug looks on their faces reminded him of pictures he’d seen of President’s who served this country over the years, or even that of judges. He couldn’t help but wonder if all the men in these kinds of positions were all complacent.
“Can I help you?”
Forrest hadn’t heard the secretary hang up. He stood and walked over to stand in front of her desk. “Yes. I’m supposed to see the Dean.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Not exactly. I was told to go see the Dean.” Forcing himself to relax, Forrest unclenched his fists that had drawn up involuntarily.
“Dean Whitman is a very busy man. You can’t flounce in here and expect to be seen immediately.” The Dean’s secretary pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose and scanned the Dean’s appointment book.
Forrest rotated his head around to loosen the muscles in his neck, then took a deep breath. “If you don’t mind, could you buzz the Dean and see if he’s available now. I need to get back to my job.”
The brunette, laced with streaks of gray throughout her hair, lowered her glasses and looked at him closer before giving an undignified, “Humph.”
When she lifted the receiver and buzzed the Dean, Forrest continued to watch her, which only seemed to irritate her, if the frown she wore was anything to go by. “Sorry, Dean Whitman. There’s a—someone who works here, to see you. Hold on,” she covered the receiver and addressed Forrest. “What did you say your name was?”
“Forrest Tucker.”
The secretary relayed the information, then hung up the phone. “He’ll see you now.”
Forrest took that as his dismal and rounded the desk to enter the solid oak door bearing the Dean’s name. It was the first time Forrest had ever been in the office. Bookshelves lined the walls. In front of the Dean’s desk, two burgundy leather chairs sat, slanted on an angle.
Dean Whitman stood and walked over to greet him. Clasping a hand on Forrest's shoulder, the gray haired gentleman led him over to his desk. “Have a seat, my boy.”
The Dean walked back over and took a seat in his chair on the other side of the desk. “Do you know why I asked to see you today
?”
“No.”
“Seems we have a bit of a problem. One of our students came in to see me,” Dean Whitman said, folding his hands on the desk in front of him. “From my understanding, there was an incident in the library.”
Forrest could feel his cheeks burn. “Well…”
“Well, Mr. Carrington and his family are respected members of our community. We can’t allow this to go unattended, Mr. Tucker. Your behavior was most unbecoming. I’m afraid we’ll have to let you go.”
“My behavior?” Forrest stood, resting clenched knuckles on the desk; he leaned over it a little. “What about Doug’s, I mean, Mr. Carrington’s behavior? What do you intend to do about it?”
“From my understanding, you are the one who attacked him. Am I correct?”
“That’s not the behavior I’m talking about. What about him forcing himself on other female students?”
Dean Whitman stood. “That is not the issue here, Mr. Tucker. The issue is, you attacked another student. As for Mr. Carrington, it wouldn’t do to have you going around slandering his reputation. I don’t know what your ties are to Ms. Steinfeld, but I’ve already spoken to her about making such accusations herself. She’s agreed not to be a problem in the future. Both she and Mr. Carrington are consenting adults, what happens in their private life is of no concern to this University.”
“I can’t believe this,” Forrest spat angrily, standing erect.
“You have also been suspended for this week and will be put on probation. If there is even so much as a hint of questionable conduct, you will be expelled from this school.”
“This guy gets away with his—,” Forrest motioned wildly with his hands. “And I’m the one who loses my job?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Tucker. The school cannot be responsible for your actions. It could put us in a sticky situation if someone should decide to press charges against you. We can’t have the University associated with bad publicity. I’m sure when you calm down, you’ll understand.”
Chapter Three
The forceful pull as Forrest yanked open the Dean’s door caused it to slam against the wall and bounce back, nearly closing on its own. Right now, he couldn’t see straight, but he knew the numbers and they didn’t add up. Doug came from a wealthy family that donated money to the college and the school wasn’t about to risk losing extra finances, even at the cost of sweeping Doug’s indiscretions under the rug.
Seasons of the Heart Page 9
