by Rye Hart
Feeling suddenly safe, I closed my eyes and gave up fighting.
CHAPTER 7
LIAM
I saw the woman take a tumble from my window and I went charging out the front door. I didn’t know what the fuck a woman like her was doing out in weather like this but I saw the way her ankle caught. At best, she’d sprained it, but it was more likely she’d dislocated it. I hopped down the steps and went charging for the hill she rolled down. When I got to the edge, I saw her gasping for air.
It was the same woman I’d seen walking across the road earlier that day, with the long blonde hair and the put-together clothing. Her eyes were a striking blue that almost halted me in my tracks but it was her gasping that ripped me from my trance before I made my way down to her.
She’d tumbled her way into a tree and lost her breath. She was struggling to catch it and I knew if I didn’t get her inside, I’d be looking at a very serious situation. I lifted her up into my arms just as she passed out and I scaled the hill quickly before I ran back inside with her. I had to make sure I could get her lungs and her diaphragm to sync back up before I could even touch her ankle, which was definitely dislocated.
I felt for her pulse and it was faint. I saw her stomach jolting but her chest wasn’t rising. I settled my hand onto her stomach and pressed down before I blew steadily into her mouth. The moment she gasped for air, I pulled away and looked at her ankle. Tears were streaming down her face while she tried to grasp at anything around her and I knew I had a narrow window to pop her ankle back in before shock set in.
So, I grabbed her ankle, steadied her leg, and twisted.
She groaned and her back arched while tears continued to stream down her face. I propped her foot up with some pillows before I walked back to retrieve a first aid kit. I dug out the ace bandage, as well as some heating and cooling gel. Then I settled back down beside her and started to take care of her ankle.
It was going to swell up and hurt for a while but, if no ligaments had been torn, it should subside within a few days.
I heard her breathing steady out while I applied the gel. She sighed with relief once the cooling sensation kicked in. Then, I began covering her ankle with gauze and an ace bandage. She had to keep it as still as she could manage until the joint itself could heal.
I chanced a look outside. The snow was piling up much faster than I’d anticipated and now there was this strange fucking woman in my cabin.
“What are you doing out in this weather?” I asked.
Her wild eyes hooked onto me but I kept my gaze steady on her ankle.
“What?” she asked.
“What possessed you to go on a hike during this storm?”
“I just wanted to see the sights before the storm set in,” she said.
“You saw that tree up close. Get enough?”
I lifted my gaze to her as her eyes widened at my statement.
“Yes, I’ve seen enough. Thank you.”
She pulled her ankle from my hands and immediately hissed in pain. She tried to place her foot on the floor, no doubt seeing if she could walk on it, but the moment her ass hit the couch, I leaned over to pick up her foot.
“Enjoy the trial run?” I asked.
“I knew the storm was coming,” she said. “But I figured I could get back before it actually started. The clouds didn’t look that gray when I left.”
“And you got lost,” I said.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
I flicked my gaze up to her while my hands finished wrapping up her ankle. I could see she was still shivering and the last thing I needed was for this woman to catch a damn chill. I got up and helped her out of her jacket, even as she continued to give me suspicious little side glances. Then, I gathered up some blankets and brought them back to her.
“I’ll get a fire going in a second but ,if you get any colder, your ankle’s the least of your worries.”
“What happened to it?” she asked.
“You dislocated it when you did your little dance down the hill,” I said.
“Are you always such a dick?”
I looked back up into her eyes that were sparkling with anger and I sighed.
“Sorry,” I said.
“You should be.”
She wrapped herself up in the blankets while I propped her leg back up on some pillows. For now, the swelling would be kept at bay if she kept her ankle elevated. The ace bandage would work not only as a stabilizer but as a compression sock and, hopefully, no more damage could come to her joints and tendons. I got up and headed to the fireplace, stocking it with kindling before I got a flame going.
Then, I tossed a few logs onto it and allowed the heat to permeate the room.
I looked back at the strange woman and watched her shivering finally die down. The flames of the fire were flickering off her features and, for a moment, I could only stand and stare. What the fuck was I going to do with this woman in this storm? She couldn’t get back to the resort. Not in weather like this. It was dumping by the buckets and that side road would already be snowed out.
And I still hadn’t gotten out with my chainsaw to remove that fucking tree from the road.
“You shouldn’t have been out in this weather,” I said, again.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“You hurt yourself,” I said.
“Look, once I get warm, I’m gonna go back, okay? So just leave the fucking attitude over there for now.”
“You can’t go back in a storm like this,” I said. “I know these back roads. They’ll already be snowed out. And the main road that might still be open has a massive tree blocking it.”
“And no one thought to move it?” she asked.
“No one cares about people up here,” I said. “I was gonna move it when I got back home from town today.”
“You’re too late.”
“Excuse me for not knowing someone would be out prancing around in the storm of the century for fun.”
She huffed, turning her back to me while she hunkered down on the couch. She was feisty. She couldn’t go back in this snow and we had no chance of getting her back anywhere until it let up, which I knew wouldn’t be for a few days.
“I’ll get you some more pillows and you can sleep on the couch,” I said.
“How nice of you,” she said sarcastically. “Thanks.”
“Would you like to try your luck with the weather?” I asked. “Because if you’re really that stubborn, go ahead.”
She turned back over to look at me, her eyes filled with fury and fire. I sighed. This was exactly why I didn’t want to be around people and why I had no interest in finding a companion. People talked too much. “This storm’ll eat you alive,” I said. “You can stay on the couch until it lets up.”
“Thanks,” she murmured, sounding more genuine than before.
I heard her sigh as she turned her back to me and a part of me felt sorry for her. I was also intrigued by her. If she was scared, she didn’t show it. Some burly man with a beard and a stern voice found her and brought her inside his cabin and she hadn’t even asked my fucking name yet. It made me wonder what her story was. What could’ve happened to her that was more frightening than a strange man bringing her back to his isolated cabin in the fucking woods?
But if she didn’t want to know my name, then I didn’t care about knowing hers. After all, she’d only be here for a few days and then I’d take her back to wherever the hell she wanted to be.
“I’ll go get those pillows,” I said.
“Okay.”
I walked around the couch and found my way to the hallway closet. I pulled a few extra pillows down from the top shelf, then went back to her. I propped her head up a bit more and put a bit of support underneath her back. I’d taken care of way too many soldiers in my time who were lying on nothing but slabs of wood. I knew how to make sure their bodies were comfortable and the more comfortable she was, the less tension she would carry.
That meant her body would control th
e swelling of her ankle more, which meant she’d heal faster.
Which meant she’d get the fuck out of my cabin sooner rather than later.
“Thanks,” she said again.
“Yep,” I said. “Just keep that ankle elevated and try not to walk on your own too much. It needs to heal.”
Before she could get a word in edgewise, I headed back to my room. I could not believe I was actually going to have to take care of this woman during this storm. The last report I’d heard on the radio said this snow wouldn’t fucking let up for an entire week. An entire fucking week. I’d have to put up with this clumsy, stubborn, strong-willed woman for seven damn days until I could get rid of her.
This was not the secluded mountain life I had been looking for.
Raking my hands through my hair, I sat down on the edge of my bed. Even though I couldn't have cared less about that woman, a part of me couldn’t help but listen out for her. It was hard to shut down the part of me that was trained to help but I tried my best to do so. Before I could worry about her, I needed to prepare the generator for when the power went out.
By the time I did my rounds and made sure the cabin was secured for the storm, I could hear her soft snores coming from the couch. I took out some meat I had thawing in the fridge, then pulled out a massive mixture of fresh vegetables. A stew would be the easiest thing to cook because she could dish it up on her own and heat it up herself. Making a stew and some biscuits could put more distance between the two of us, which meant I didn’t have to deal with her as much. I slammed around in the kitchen, pouring things into a pot before I brought it all to a boil. Not once did she move from the couch.
She was obviously exhausted and I thanked my stars that she’d stay asleep through the night.
I cooked up some biscuits while the stew settled, then I brewed some sweet tea. She was a city girl for sure but her light accent told me she was from Tennessee. I set out a cup and a bowl for her, just in case she got up in the middle of the night and wanted something. Then, I took my dinner back into my room.
I was going to eat, listen to the radio, then go the fuck to sleep.
The weather announcer kept changing his report every fucking moment. At first, it was going to snow for a whole three days. Then, he changed it to five. Then, it was an entire week. Even this asshat didn’t know what the fuck this storm was doing. I finished my dinner, turned off the radio, and took all my dishes to the kitchen.
The woman was still sleeping on the couch while the fire slowly dwindled and I fought the urge to go and see how her ankle was.
I filled the sink with hot bubbly water and put my dishes into it. The woman’s snores became louder and louder and, soon, she wasn’t breathing at all. I rushed over to her side and took one of the pillows out from underneath her head. In an instant, she was breathing again.
This time, there was no snoring.
I lifted up the blanket and took a look at her ankle. Her toes were swelling a bit, but nothing that was alarming to me. I unraveled the ace bandage from her skin, applied more of the soothing gel, and then wrapped her back up and tucked her in. Everything was coming back to me like it’d never left. My mind was racing with facts and statistics and clocking all the things that could go wrong. Part of me wanted to make sure I was prepared for anything that could happen to her.
But part of me simply wanted to sleep this nightmare away.
If she stayed long enough, she would know how battered I was. If she was trapped here long enough, she would see the monster she was staying with.
I wasn’t sure if I could stomach that reality.
CHAPTER 8
WHITNEY
I woke up in the middle of the night to a dying fire crackling and a man screaming. The noise ripped me from sleep, but the smell of food in the air distracted me. My stomach was growling and my ears were ringing, but one thing I didn’t feel that I should’ve was my ankle.
I tossed the blanket off my legs and saw it was wrapped.
My toes looked like little sausages but there wasn’t any pain. I slung my legs over the couch and tried to stand up, chancing the pain while I gritted my teeth. Even though this guy was an absolute asshole, that screaming wasn’t the sound of an angry man.
It was the sound of a hurting one.
I bypassed the food and made my way down the hallway. I came to its short end and saw one of the doors hanging open. Then, I heard the shower cut on. A dim light came from underneath the door across the hall and, as I peeked my head into the bedroom, I could see how trashed the room was. There was a wet spot on the pillow and the covers were thrown to the ground. The fitted bed sheet was crumbled in the middle and some of the pillows were on the opposite end of the room. I listened to the falling water of the shower and sighed, wondering what in the world could’ve scared a massive man like him in his sleep.
I walked back down the hallway and hopped into the kitchen. Even though my eyes were heavy, my stomach was growling with hunger. There was a massive pot sitting on the stove with a tray of biscuits covered with saran wrap and, immediately, my mouth began to salivate. I peeled back the wrap and snagged a biscuit before my want for sleep took over. I munched on it as I hobbled back to the couch.
It practically melted in my mouth, even though it had been sitting on the stove probably since dinner time.
I sat on the couch and listened to the water from the shower down the hallway while I ate my biscuit. I couldn’t really see the snow outside but I could tell how much had stacked onto the windowsill. I laid back down and propped my foot up as I sighed, wondering how in fuck’s name I was going to get back to the resort on a bum ankle.
But, before I could rack my brain for the possibilities, I fell back asleep.
When my eyes finally fluttered open the next morning, it was clear how bad the storm had gotten during the night. The sun wasn’t even breaking through the clouds, they were so thick, and the snow that had fallen onto the ground was already halfway up the tires of the guy’s truck.
Holy hell, I really needed to learn his name.
This storm was much worse than what that woman from the resort told me. This was probably even worse than what the weathermen were telling people. The snow was still coming down in buckets like it hadn’t given up overnight, and, suddenly, the past few hours came coming back to me.
The man that saved my life had been woken up by a nightmare last night.
Had it not been for him, the snow would’ve covered me up and swallowed me whole. I would’ve passed out against that tree and the cold would’ve ripped the life right from my lungs. Even though the man was surly and a bit of a dick, I owed him my life. Not only did he bring me back here and warm me up, but he took care of my ankle.
I wanted to do something for him that showed my appreciation.
I stumbled off the couch and ran my hip into the side of it. I hissed, feeling tears crest my eyes while the pain in my thigh ricocheted up my side. I had to take a second to catch my breath before I could make my way to the kitchen. I was determined to make the two of us breakfast. The biscuits were already made, but I could whip us up some cheese grits and maybe some eggs. I went over to his pantry, hobbling along as best as I could, and started grabbing things from his stash.
I set out to cook a breakfast he could wake up to while I started humming lightly to myself.
It had been a long time since I’d cooked for anyone other than myself. Most of the time, I just grabbed a salad or a barbecue takeout tray from my favorite restaurant and took it back to my apartment. In fact, I couldn’t really remember the last time I’d actually cooked a meal and I found myself settling back into the rhythm of things.
I cracked eggs and scrambled them in a pan while the grits cooked in a small pot.
“What are you doing?”
At the sound of his voice, I jumped. I didn’t remember it being as low as it was and it took me by surprise. The spoon I was stirring the grits with went flying in the air, actually hitting the ceiling be
fore it landed on the kitchen island behind me.
I turned around and faced the massive man and he seemed to loom over me more than I remembered from the day before.
“What are you doing?” he asked again.
“Uh, cooking breakfast,” I said. “It was the least I could do for you saving my life. I’m Whitney, by the way.”
But instead of offering his name, all he did was stare at the food on the stove.
He was a massive man. Easily six-feet-four and stacked with muscle. The beard on his face was thick, covering up even his lips while his dark brown hair was pushed back onto his head. But his bright blue eyes had me mesmerized.
He was rough around the edges but his blue eyes lent him a charm I was sure he kept covered up underneath his rough and tumble exterior.
“Liam,” he finally said.
He picked the spoon up off the kitchen island before he looked up to the ceiling. The spoon had left behind a dollop of grits that was slowly detaching itself from the ceiling. I drew my bottom lip between my teeth while I watched it fall and land on the kitchen counter.
His blue eyes slowly panned over to me and I tried my best to stifle the giggle rising up my throat.
“I’ll take care of food,” he said.
“Just let me cook for you,” I said. “You know, to show my appreciation.”
“I don’t want you cooking the food,” he said.
“And why not?” I asked.
He stepped in front of me, creating a barrier between myself and the stove while I hobbled on my ankle.
“Because I’m not sure if there’s enough for the both of us here to ride out this storm,” he said.
“Liam, there’s plenty of food—”
“Have you heard the latest weather report?” he asked.
I felt my blood run cold at the sternness of his voice because strung within it was an undertone of worry. And I figured it took a lot for a man his size to become worried.
