Damaged

by R. R. Banks

  "Go away," I said.

  "No," he told me. "Not until you listen to me."

  "I don't have to listen to you. I don't have to do anything. That's what got me here in the first place."

  "Charlotte, you need to understand my side of this."

  "Oh, I understand. You found a helpless woman out in a storm and decided that you would take advantage of the situation."

  I hated that I had said the words as soon as I did, and I hated him even more when I saw how they changed Micah's eyes. But the truth was that was exactly how I felt. I had gone from feeling as though he had rescued me to feeling like I had been captured. He hadn't just kept my body. By not telling me my name or what he knew about me, he had kept my mind as well.

  "Is that really what you think?" he asked.

  All of the tenderness that had built in his voice was now gone. The cold, distant anger that had been there in the first few days had returned.

  "What do you want me to think? How else am I supposed to feel? I appreciate that you got me out of that car and brought me here, but what about after that? What happened after I woke up? You could have told me right then what you knew. You could have told me my name, about my family, that we came from the same place. You kept me from being able to find them and to let them know that I'm alright. I can't even imagine how worried they are about me, because of you. They probably think that I'm dead somewhere and don't know where to even look for me because you didn't even have the decency to let me tell them."

  "Do you want to know what happened after I found you in that car? Do you really want to know why you're still here?"

  "Yes" I said.

  I was shaking, and I was fighting the tears that were still stinging in my eyes. He didn't deserve them. I had cried far too many tears for Daniel and all of the pain that he had caused me, and I knew that if I was honest with myself, I would admit that I had cried tears in high school for Micah as well. I had cried enough. I had given enough of myself. I was done.

  "I did know who you were," he said. "I tried to tell myself that I might be wrong, but I knew that I wasn't. I would remember your face no matter what. But I didn't know who you were when I first saw the car. All I knew was that someone had crashed into a tree and there was a storm coming and they were in danger. I've lived up on this mountain by myself for years and I know the danger. I have learned to protect myself and to be sure that I was ready for whatever came. I knew that whoever might be in that car didn't have that knowledge. If they did, they wouldn't be on that road. That is an access road that is only used to get this far up in the mountain and my lodge is the only thing this far up on the mountain. Whoever was driving that car was obviously lost and hadn't paid attention to any of the warnings that had told them to stop driving and find shelter. I went to the car to find and help whoever was in the car. Finding you wasn't in my plans."

  "And when you did? When you did realize that it was me, what changed?"

  "Only how strongly I felt about making sure that you were safe. I didn't know why you would be up here, but I could see that you were hurt and then you passed out in my arms. I had no choice but to bring you up here and do my best to take care of you. That meant bringing you into the guest room and cleaning the cut on your head. It meant making sure that Scout stayed with you. It also meant that as soon as I knew that you were sleeping peacefully, I went and called the rangers. I couldn't get through, but I kept trying. I kept the radio on and listened for any missing persons announcement. There weren't any."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "There weren't any missing persons announcements," he repeated. "Nothing came over the radio. There were no indications that anyone had reported a single person missing on this mountain. They still haven't. I finally got through to emergency Personnel, but they also hadn't heard anything about a missing person or a missing vehicle. Because of that, they wouldn't put any more priority on getting up here than they already had. They needed to take care of things that had happened lower on the mountain and help the people in the valley. They said that they would keep an ear out for anyone saying that a woman had disappeared while traveling on the mountain or that they were looking for a lost vehicle, and that they would call me as soon as they heard. I haven't heard back from them. I tried. I tried to make sure that your family knew that you were safe and that we could find a way to get you back to them, but there was nothing else that I could do. They weren't looking for you, Charlotte. They aren't looking for you."

  "You're lying," I said, fighting to control my emotions.

  "There would be no reason for me to lie," Micah said. "If there were people looking for you and they found out that you had been here, don't you think that would be a problem? I don't just remember you. I remember your family, too. I know how they feel about their money and their power. And I know how they feel about the people they don't think should have either. If they have been trying to find you, they would have been able to demand and pay and force their way to the top of the priority list. And they would make sure that anyone who had anything to do with you missing paid for it. I kept you here to protect you. I didn't tell you who you are or what I know about you or your life because I didn't know if you would want to remember. I didn't know if you would want to know."

  I glared at Micah. I was seething. My heart was pounding so hard in my chest I felt like it would crack through my ribs or come up through my throat. I gritted my teeth to give more strength to my voice.

  "Get out."

  Micah turned and walked out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him. I waited until I heard the stomping of his footsteps going up the stairs toward his bedroom. And then I did the only thing that I knew. The only thing that I could think of when the world was crashing down around me, and I didn't know the next step that I should take.

  I ran.

  Chapter Twelve

  Micah

  I should have told her. I should have fucking told her.

  No, I should have insisted that the police come and get her.

  I should have brought her down the mountain myself and left her at the nearest ranger station.

  There was an intensity of anger in me that I didn't know was possible. I had been angry before. I had been infuriated before. But I never felt anything like this. The anger that I was feeling was only a thin cover for the pain that was deeper inside of me. Even as I tried to convince myself that I shouldn't have done what I had for Charlotte, that I should have gotten her off of my hands as soon as I could, I knew that that wasn't practical. It wasn't reality. I had been telling the truth when I told her that I went down to the car when I saw it smashed against the tree because I was worried about anybody who might be inside. But I had also been telling the truth when I told her that the instant I saw her face, I was far more worried and knew that I would do anything that I needed to do to protect her. That meant protecting her from the snow and from the possible effects of her injuries, but it also meant protecting her from herself and from the world around her.

  I did remember her family. I remembered them as arrogant and pretentious. I had never interacted with either of her sisters, but I had heard from a few guys who had just how miserable it was to try to get in with their parents. It wasn't that they were protective of their daughters. They weren't trying to guard their hearts or defend their honor. Instead, they were trying to craft and defend their own reputation. They looked down on anyone who didn't have money and whose name didn't appear on at least one building downtown. It didn't matter who you were as a person or what you had accomplished. All that mattered was who had bred you. Even if I had tried to approach Charlotte during those high school years, it would have been futile. Even if I had been able to get beyond the judgement and expectations of my friends and the people who acted like my friends but who never actually were. I never would have been able to be close to her. Her parents never would have accepted a boy from the wrong side of the tracks. We didn't have a name that anybody would recogniz
e. We didn't have money. What we did have was secrets. And those were enough to keep me well outside of the realm of any man who the Dabneys would consider acceptable for one of their daughters. I couldn't give them a good reputation. I couldn't give them higher social standing. I couldn't give them more power or more money. That was nothing that I could offer them, so they didn't care what I might be able to offer Charlotte.

  They really weren't all that different from my family. The only difference was a couple of generations and a tremendous amount of luck. Of course, that didn't matter to them. In their eyes, they were as important and privileged as any of the founding families of the country, and they were loathed to even acknowledge those who might not agree with them. They didn't hear the whispers. They didn't hear the people who knew exactly where they had come from and who they still were, or the rumors that were still spread about them by those who weren't impressed by the newness of their success and prevalence. If they did hear it, they didn't acknowledge it.

  I paced through my bedroom until I felt like I calmed down enough to talk to her again. I hated the way that she had looked at me when she accused me of taking advantage of her. I didn't want her to think that I would ever do anything to hurt her, especially knowing the hurt that she had already suffered. I didn't know the full extent of what she had gone through, but I knew that it was enough to have shaped the way that she looked at me. I headed back down the stairs and found Scout circling in the great room. He was whimpering, his tail pointing straight out the way that it did when he wanted to chase something.

  "I can't play with you right now," I told him.

  He circled a few more times and then ran for the door. He looked back, noticing that I wasn't following him, and ran toward me again.

  "I can't play with you right now," I said again. "I need to go talk to Charlotte."

  I made my way through the house and toward the guest bedroom. I expected to find the door closed again and intended to knock on it this time, but instead the door was standing open. I looked inside and found the room empty. My heart immediately sank. I turned and looked at Scout who was standing in the hall behind me looking at me as if to suggest that he knew something I didn't. I walked out into the lodge and began to run from room to room, calling for her. I checked the library, but the chair where she sat to read beside the fireplace was empty. I looked in each of the bathrooms. I checked the living room. I even went to the memorabilia room, thinking that maybe I had left the door unlocked and she was in there again going through the mementos from high school. The house was empty and quiet. She was gone.

  I looked at Scout.

  "Where is she, boy? Where did she go?"

  He wagged his tail and I immediately went to the mudroom to put on my layers of heavy clothes. She had gone out into the snow and I knew by the trek that we had made to the car that she wasn't prepared to be in the woods by herself, particularly as the afternoon grew later. As soon as I zipped up my coat, I burst out into the snow. The light snowfall that had begun earlier was still only letting a soft, gentle amount of snow drift down and I was thankful at least for that. But the cold was incredibly bitter as the wind picked up around me. I worried that she was going to have very little time. I looked around at the snow, trying to find her tracks so that I could follow them. I could see our footsteps from earlier and I wondered if she might have followed them. I started into the woods, moving as quickly as I could through the deep snow. I pulled my scarf up over my mouth and nose, so that I could breathe the warm air rather than filling my lungs with a sharp chill. This helped me to move faster and I kept my head moving back and forth so I could scan as much of the trees and expanse of snow as I possibly could. My voice was muffled by the scarf, and occasionally I took it away so that I could scream her name. My voice echoed back to me, as if reminding me how alone I was on the mountain.

  Fear had started to fill me as soon as I realized that she had left the house and it was only intensifying with every step that I took. I had hoped that she would follow the path of our footsteps directly back down the road, not into the woods when I noticed her footsteps veering away from our tracks. I couldn't understand why she would have turned away from the path or where she could think that she was going, and the worry spiked up even higher. I step to the side so that I wouldn't obliterate her footsteps and begin to follow them. Scout followed my lead and began to tromp through the snow to my side. It was so deep that there were times when he sank down to his neck and I had to pause to dig him back out. Each time this happened I felt like more and more time was slipping away. I was desperate. I had to find her.

  I continued on, moving as fast as I could and screaming her name with every breath that I pulled in. The sun was beginning to set, and the light was getting dusky around me. Finally, several yards in front of me, I saw a shape in the snow. I ran toward it and dropped to my knees at Charlotte's side. She was lying on the ground, curled onto one hip with her face up towards the sky. I tucked one hand under her head and lifted it.

  "Charlotte," I said. "Charlotte, open your eyes."

  Her eyes fluttered, but didn't open. She was only wearing a sweatshirt over a long-sleeved shirt and I realized that she had left her coat in my bedroom. I couldn't believe that she would do something so stupid as to go out in this weather without the layers that she needed, and the guilt clamped down on me like a vice. I knew that I hadn't handled the confrontation the way that I should have. I shouldn't have been so aggressive with her. I shouldn't have walked away from her. I gently laid her back down into the snow and stood, unzipping my coat. I took off my layers down to the thermal shirt that I wore closest to my skin and wrapped them around her. I scooped her up into my arms and cradled her close to my chest as I started back toward the house. I knew that the temperature around me was bitter and that exposing my skin this way was dangerous, but I didn't care. All that mattered was getting Charlotte safe again.

  It at once felt like the walk back to the lodge took hours and was over in moments. I stomped my feet on the mat to shake off the snow and ran into the great room to lay Charlotte out on the rug in front of the fire. She was moaning softly, and her eyelids lifted slowly to look at me.

  "Micah," she whispered.

  "Shhhhh," I soothed her. "It's alright. I'm here. You're safe now." I drew in a breath. "You're home."

  I peeled away all of her wet clothes and wrapped her body in blankets. She was shaking, but soon her body calmed. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek, wanting the reassurance of the feeling of her skin as much as I wanted to reassure her. I wanted her to know that it didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore but the fact that she was here with me and that I was determined not to let anything happen to her again.

  ********

  Charlotte

  The next day I finally felt like myself again. Micah and I hadn't talked about what had happened yet. He had been giving me the space and the quiet that I needed to process everything, and I was trying to put myself back into a normal rhythm of life. I missed him and as if that was enough to draw him to me, I heard him coming up the stairs as I was making the bed. I was finishing piling the comforter up when Micah walked into the bedroom. Without a word, he crossed the room to me and took me by the hips. He captured my mouth and held me close, sucking on my bottom lip. Micah guided me back and tipped me onto the mattress, positioning me so that I lay with my head on the pillow. I was wearing only thin lounge pants and a shirt, and Micah peeled away the shirt, tossing it aside unceremoniously. He ran his palm down the center of my chest before dipping his head down to indulge a craving with a long lick across my skin.

  I lifted my head and reciprocated the gesture across his bare shoulder. I tasted the primal, salty flavor of sweat and I ran my tongue along his skin. My hands slid up to his waist and I could feel ribs beneath his smooth skin as he murmured in response to the lick. When he was carrying me back through the snow his shirt had lifted, exposing some of his skin to the elements, giving it a hint of c
olor. The subtle contrast between this slightly reddened skin and the skin that had been protected by clothing was unexpectedly arousing. It was as if that skin was emerging solely for the purpose of luring me to it to worship it with my fingertips, my tongue, and my own vulnerable skin.

  Micah continued his trail of kisses up my body, occasionally lifting his head to blow a stream of cool air against the dampened trail of skin. I gripped the covers beside me to control myself, enjoying every moment of the attention that he was giving me, but also the luscious way his body was responding to the touch of my mouth and my hands, and the taste of my skin against his lips. I wanted this to last as long as it could, but I also wanted Micah to let go of the control that he was showing. I wanted him to give in to the desire that we were both feeling. I needed him. I needed the connection, the validation of his touch as much as the release of energy, frustration, and pent-up emotion that I was feeling.

  As if my very thoughts had urged and compelled him, Micah suddenly lifted up so that his body pinned me down. I could feel the intoxicating pressure of his already hardening erection pressing into my lower belly and Micah stare down at me with fire in his eyes. He licked his lips with anticipation and touched his hand behind my head to pull our mouths together. I complied with the guidance, pressing my hands to his back so that he would stretch across me more fully. The warmth of his chest pressing down on to my own and our mouths playing across each other sent my arousal surging further, and I tightened my grasp around Micah to deepen our kiss. I didn't want to lose the taste of his mouth yet.

  Micah's lips parted, and his tongue sought mine. I welcomed it into my mouth, greeting it with my own so that they tangled and explored with greater familiarity. The thought of how close we had come to losing each other and the knowledge that I was now offering myself to him with full understanding, full awareness of who I was and why I was here, made the kiss even more desperate. I nipped at Micah's bottom lip and he pulled back to stare into my eyes. I reached between us and started to push the waistband of Micah's pants down.