by Smith, Wendy
He nods. “Since the fence went up.”
“I still don’t know how Ash talked people into that. It scared the hell out of me.”
“Why didn’t you leave, then?”
I meet his curious stare. “My parents. They can’t leave.”
He reaches across the table and places his hand on mine. The contact doesn’t scare me like I thought it might, but is he going to want something in exchange for me staying here? “I’m sorry. It must be hard being without them now.”
I nod, lifting my hand to cut a slice of bacon. “My dad works in the greenhouses, but my mum is chronically ill. I help care for her.”
I’m not sure what I’ve said, but something seems to have struck a nerve. Corey puts down his fork.
“Did I say something wrong?”
He shakes his head. “No. My mother’s terminally ill. My dad cares for her, but I go and see them at least once a week and take them meat if I’ve been hunting.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He shrugs. “Sometimes you can’t help the shitty things life throws at you.” Picking up his fork, he takes another bite of his food. “So, what made you decide to leave them now?”
Should I tell him? I don’t even know this man.
But something about him—those caring dark eyes, the calm and gentle way he moves—makes me trust him. Feel I can open up to him.
“I think my parents will leave if I can find a way. But I had to get out now. Ash chose someone about the same age as my father to be my husband.”
Corey sucks in a breath, coughing as his food seems to catch in his throat. I leap up, rounding the table.
Thud.
I smack him between the shoulder blades, just the way my father taught me.
He laughs. Laughs.
“What’s so funny?”
“It wasn’t that bad. Just a bit of food that went down the wrong way.”
My cheeks burn. “Sorry.”
Corey pats my arm. “It’s okay. I appreciate you looking out for me.” He frowns as I take my seat again. “I guess that whole ‘arranged marriage’ thing was why you left?”
“Mostly.”
“And nothing was planned, so you had nowhere to go.”
I nod.
“I guessed that before you told me because you showed up with nothing but the clothes you were wearing. Really awful clothes too, by the way. And you’re still here.”
I sigh. “I hate that dress.”
“Why wear it?”
“Because that’s literally all there is to wear. It’s like an unofficial uniform that all the women wear. Back when the community was formed, they decided everyone was equal, and to reflect that everyone should dress the same.”
He stares at me. “Equal.”
“Obviously everyone but Ash these days.”
I look up at the sound of a car engine outside.
“Ash.” My breathing accelerates.
“Ash knows better than to come here. Besides, even if it is him, he can’t do anything. You’re a grown woman.”
I can’t breathe. My lungs won’t expel air, and my chest aches.
“Constance.”
“I … can’t … breathe.”
“You’re having a panic attack.”
Heavy footsteps outside leave me sucking in air with no release.
“Sit.” Corey points toward the bedroom. “Go and sit in there and I’ll get rid of them. I don’t care who it is.”
“But …”
He wipes tears from my cheeks with his fingers. “Go.”
For a moment, I hesitate.
“Go.” His tone is so gentle. I nod, and head to the bedroom.
I sit on the bed and listen to conversation at the front door. It seems to go on forever. But at the end, the man at the door asks Corey if he knows about anyone coming through the fence.
My heart seizes.
“No.”
I stare at the closed door.
What I hear next makes my heart sink.
“If I saw one of those happy-clappy weirdos, you would be the first to know.”
Is that really what he thinks of me?
I don’t hear anything else after that. It’s so confusing.
I wasn’t prepared for any of this.
Closing my eyes, I try and calm myself, and soon I’m breathing normally again.
“Constance.”
I look up to see Corey in the doorway.
He walks to the bed and sits beside me. “That was Graham Taylor. He’s the senior sergeant from our local police station.” Corey runs his fingers through his beard. “They’re investigating Ash.”
I stare at him. “Really?”
He nods. “One of his guys on the inside got word to him that you’d come through the fence.”
“On the inside? Did you tell him I was here?”
Corey shakes his head. “Not after the way you reacted. I’ll tell him in a few days once you’re not so on edge.”
“Is that the right thing to do?”
He shrugs. “I have no idea, but I’m not about to throw you to the wolves. They’re good people, and they’re really keen to nail Ash. I am too, but right now I need to put you first.” With a smile, he reaches up and brushes a lock of hair off my face. My heart leaps to my throat. “I know I’ve said it before, but you’re safe here with me. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, and you can do things in your own time. When you’re ready to talk to Graham, tell me.”
I nod. “Thank you.”
“Are you okay now?”
“I think so.” Licking my lips, I gaze into his eyes. His expression is so caring. How do I reconcile that with him insulting the life I’ve always had? First the cult comment, and now this?
I’m so confused.
* * *
I should do something.
Maybe look for a job. At least go into town and try and get my head around the idea of building a life out here.
But Corey tells me to relax, take my time, and so I lose myself in his books.
Corey’s in and out of the house. He chops wood and makes lunch. But instead of us sitting and talking again, I curl back up with a book and eat as he sets up the fire.
“Your dress is clean and dry.” I look up to see him with a handful of grey fabric.
“I don’t know if I want to wear it.”
“The alternative right now is one of my shirts. Want another one?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine for now. I’ll have another shower tonight and get changed.”
He looks down at the dress in his hand. “Want me to throw this out?”
I shrug. “When I do leave the house, I might need it.”
“I’ll put it in your room. You can decide what to do with it.”
“Thanks.”
Corey frowns. “You okay?”
I nod. “Fine.”
He pauses for a moment as if he’s about to say something else but smiles instead. “I’ll put dinner on. Lamb chops okay? I make a mean mashed potato.”
I look back up. “Sounds good. Want some help?”
He shakes his head. “No. You look comfortable. I’ll sort it out.”
“Whatever you need me to do, I’m happy to.”
Corey scans my expression. “I know. But you’re my house guest, so I’m going to take care of you. Besides, I think you’ve been through enough next door.”
I smile. “My life wasn’t that bad until yesterday. I think you’re mistaken about what my home represents.”
He shrugs. “Whatever floats your boat. Though apparently it doesn’t anymore, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”
“I told you why I’m here.”
“Sure you did, and if he’d arranged a marriage to someone you found more likeable, you’d still be there. With that dodgy prick running the show.”
He’s right.
It sucks, but he’s right.
I can’t think of anyone I’d want to marry there, but I would have made
it work with a number of men. But Ash didn’t choose me a partner based on who was best for me; he chose based on some sick sense of revenge.
There’s nothing more I can say, and Corey turns and walks away before I can come back with some smart retort.
My mood darkens, and not because he’s in the wrong.
Because he’s right.
* * *
By dinnertime, whatever ease was between us seems to have reappeared, but I’m still thinking about his words from this morning and our earlier conversation.
My whole life, I never thought about how the outside world thought of us. Maybe it was something other people thought about, but no one ever said anything.
It’s depressing.
“Food alright?” Corey interrupts my train of thought, and I look up to see him smiling at me.
I nod. “It’s lovely. You’re a good cook.”
He shrugs. “I’m pretty good at meat and veg. Anything else is a bit beyond me.”
“I’m good at mac and cheese. It’s my dad’s favourite.”
Corey grins. “I haven’t had that in forever. Though it’s my own fault. I’m terrible at buying groceries. But I always have a freezer full of meat, and it’s a bit wild, but there’s a bit of a garden out the back. The potatoes are fresh out of it.”
“You can tell.” I lower my gaze, and then flick it up again. “We always have fresh food. There are gardens both outside and in the green houses. And there are cows for fresh milk. And there are animals, but we also get meat delivered.”
“I always wondered about that. I’d imagine it’s almost self-sufficient.”
“We could live on the vegetables we grow, but variety is good.”
A smile spreads across his face. “I wanted to be like that here. But I think I’d die without coffee, and the Copper Creek fish and chip shop makes the best fried fish. My brother, Owen, owns the bakery, so I usually grab something from there if I feel like bread.”
“I can bake bread too.”
“Maybe I should tell Owen he has competition.”
“I doubt it’s as good as his.” I laugh. “If he’s a baker.”
“Just the thought of that hot bread smell makes my mouth water.”
I laugh. “Is that a hint?”
“Maybe a trip to the supermarket is in order.”
Hot prickles run up and down my body. I could deal with the vague thought of leaving the house, but the thought of actually being out leaves my heart racing.
“I’ll go by myself. You can stay here. I’m not going to drag you out of the house.”
“Could you blame me for thinking that? You did drag me in.”
Corey chuckles. “I guess I did.”
I push the mashed potatoes around on my plate. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Do you really think we’re weirdos?”
Confusion crosses his face, and then it’s like a lightbulb’s gone off. “What I said to Graham earlier? I didn’t want him to be suspicious.”
“Is that it?”
Corey puts down his fork. “Honestly? Yeah. The whole thing’s weird. But I have to admit, I barely paid attention until that damn wall went up. It’s such a huge area to do that to, so what’s hiding behind there?”
I shrug. “Just a bunch of people wanting to live a quiet life.”
“Ash is up to something dodgy. And whatever it is has hurt people, and he will keep on doing that unless he’s taken down.”
My chest aches.
“So, yeah. I’m sorry if it upsets you that I’m not a fan of the cult next door.”
I don’t know what hurts more: my naivety where Ash was concerned, or the way Corey references my home.
We eat the rest of dinner in silence. Corey says he’ll clean up and rejects my help, so I take my book and hide in the bedroom.
Not that I read.
Our brief conversation’s hit me hard.
The room grows dark. The bed is hard, and it makes me want to sleep in the chair even though my neck still aches.
My bed back home wasn’t anything flash, but the mattress was soft. I miss it.
This bed is like sleeping on rocks. I hate it.
Maybe Corey’s asleep.
Maybe I could make myself a cup of tea and lie down on the couch.
I push myself up to sit and rub my neck. Tiptoeing to the door, I slowly pull it open.
Corey’s tall.
I’m pretty tall for a woman—about the same height as Ash. I think that’s one of the reasons he never came near me—If I know Ash at all, he likes the feeling of superiority towering over his women.
It’s refreshing to find a man who towers over me.
And he’s standing right in front of me half-naked.
It’s hard not to look. He’s in the middle of his living room, with no shirt, and wearing grey tracksuit pants that hang really low on his hips. I don’t mean to, but my gaze travels down his chiselled chest, over those defined abs and to the deep V just above his waist line.
In my confused state over him, I’m actually angry that he looks so good.
“My eyes are up here,” he says.
I glare at his smirk.
“The bed’s ridiculously hard.”
“Well, sweetness, I don’t know if you can complain when the accommodation’s free.” He leans toward me. “You’re welcome to leave.”
“You know I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
He nods. “True. My bed’s much more comfortable. And it’s not really my fault you’ve gone all ‘princess and the pea’ on me.”
Tears prick my eyes as I stare at him, but I’m not giving in. I’ll be damned if he’ll make me cry.
My nostrils flare as I hold everything inside of me. I don’t even know why I’m acting this way. I don’t know why he’s acting this way. At least he’s not kicking me out.
“Good night,” I finally manage to say.
“Sweet dreams.” His tone softens.
I just catch his soft laugh as the door clicks shut. Tears prick my eyes. I’m so grateful to Corey for letting me stay here. Why can’t I just say it?
I curl up on the uncomfortable bed and close my eyes.
The thought of his softer mattress leaves me yearning for Corey Campbell’s bed. But it’s not just that. It’s him.
Everything about him screams of masculinity. He’s not like any of the men in the world I left behind.
And he thinks I’m a joke.
* * *
I don’t know what time it is when I wake.
It’s still dark outside, and I hear the noise again that woke me.
Someone’s walking around. The wooden floor creaks in the still of the night, and fear runs through my body.
Has Ash found me?
Corey said he’d protect me, but I don’t know him. I’ve been so trusting, but is that the right thing to do?
Can I trust him?
I can’t help it. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I slip out of bed. Padding across the floor in bare feet, I slowly pull open the door.
The fire’s low, and it illuminates enough of the living room that I can look around. I take a step back as the front door opens.
Corey steps inside. He’s oblivious to my presence. His expression is serious, and part of me mourns that he’s now wearing a T-shirt.
“Is anything wrong?” I whisper.
His head shoots up, and the first thing I see is concern in his eyes, swiftly followed by the relief that sweeps his face. “No. I heard something, but I think it was a possum. Damn thing. I circled around the house to make sure no one was here.”
My lower lip wobbles. I can’t help it. “Do you think they’ll come after me?”
His eyebrows knit as he frowns. “Not if they’re smart. Ash knows he’s not welcome on my property. I made that clear back when he put the fence up.”
I blink to hold back tears. “I’m frightened.”
His expression softens, and nex
t thing I know, I’m in his arms. He pulls me into his solid chest, and for the first time since I left home, I feel truly safe. I don’t know what it is about him, and I’m not sure if my attraction to him is because he’s someone new, or because he’s so contradictory. But I don’t care because it feels so right.
When I first saw him, his size and the way he held himself scared the crap out of me. In twenty-four hours, I’ve seen his gentleness. As he plants a kiss on my head, I’m so grateful for him.
We might snipe at each other, but I do trust this man. Right now, I’m trusting him with my life, and there is nowhere else I’d rather be. Even if I haven’t gone that far from home.
I raise my face to look at him, and his gaze bores through me. He lifts a hand to my face, running his thumb along my cheekbone. “You’re safe here. I’ll never let them hurt you. For as long as you’re staying with me, you have my word.”
My heart thuds. I have zero experience with men, bar boys who stole kisses when I was growing up. But Corey stirs something in me. It’s something I know I never would have felt with John.
Flickers of desire shoot through me. But it’s so confusing. Do I want him because I’m in his arms, and he makes me feel safe? Are my feelings real?
Until I know for sure, I can’t do anything about it. The last thing I want is to humiliate myself, and right now, I need Corey.
He put a roof over my head, no questions asked. My heart leaps. I left home with no plan, no idea of where I was going. All I knew was that I had to get out of there.
“Go and get some sleep, sweetness,” he says softly.
I nod.
“I’m going to bed now too. If you need anything in the night, you know where everything is. Help yourself to whatever food you want.” He smiles. “Are you warm enough in that room?”
“It’s fine.”
“It’s just the uncomfortable bed.”
I give him a small smile. “That’s fine, too. I’m sorry if I complained earlier.”
He shakes his head. “You just left behind what’s been your life since the day you were born. I’m pretty sure it’s normal to have trouble adjusting.” His lips curl into a smile. “You can use me as your punching bag any time.”
I have no idea what he means, but I laugh.
He loops a lock of my hair around his fingers. “You should wear your hair down. It looks nice.” With a kiss on my forehead, he lets me go. I can’t help but smile at him. The way he behaves with me is so familiar, and it makes me feel protected. “Good night again, Constance.”
