Shiftr_Swipe Left for Love_Connor & Lauren

by Ariana Hawkes

  “Yes, but on the other side of the park,” he said. “This is bear territory.” At the reminder that he was wolf, she felt a frisson of something – what is it – fear? excitement?

  “Do you live with other wolves? I mean, in a pack?” she blurted out, cringing at the same time. Was that a stupid question to ask?

  “No,” he said and stopped short. She glanced up at him, expecting him to continue. He met her gaze, and she noticed both how incredibly long his eyelashes were, and the unmistakable flash of pain in his eyes.

  “I’m what you call a lone wolf. Flying solo,” he said, with a short laugh, and didn’t elaborate any further.

  The weather had turned colder, and the snow that had already been compressed by the tread of feet was turning icy. Melissa walked carefully, trying not to slip, but it was inevitable. Half way across the woods, her foot skidded out from underneath her, and she grabbed at Harley in a panic. She ended up with one arm wrapped around his waist, and her other hand clinging to his arm.

  “Easy,” he said, helping her to her feet again.

  “Sorry!” she said, in a panicked voice. Oh my God, I’ve just literally thrown myself at this guy, and he probably doesn’t even want me touching him, she thought.

  “Don’t be. This ice is really slippery,” he said with a chuckle. “Here, put your arm through mine.” He crooked his elbow, and, having no other choice, she slipped her arm through it. They crunched on through the snow together. She was now close enough to pick up the scent of him. It was a deep, rich, masculine smell, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

  They reached his car, which she was surprised to see was cherry red and a sporty model.

  “My one indulgence,” he said, and he opened the door on her side and let her in.

  It had bucket seats, and she liked the feeling of being low to the ground as they zoomed through the snowy landscape.

  “During summer I always think I hate winter. But when it comes, it’s actually nice,” he said. “I like the way you wake up one morning and look out of the window, and believe for a second that you’re in an alien world.”

  “Me too!” she said. “And it feels so romantic being warm and safe inside when the snow’s falling.”

  “It does. I love being holed up in a remote mountain lodge in winter, with an open fire and something hot to drink,” he said. Melissa felt a pang at his words. That sounded like heaven, but he was probably imagining doing it with someone other than her.

  They’d arrived at the supermarket. They wandered around until they came to the spice aisle, and Melissa went through the racks looking for fenugreek.

  “Got it!” she said at last, grabbing the jar of spice.

  “Do we need anything else?” he said.

  “Don’t think so.” They paid and got back in the car. On the way back, they chatted about Melissa’s job working for the charity, and the volunteer work Harley did. He said he mainly worked at pop-up clinics in disadvantaged areas of the state, but he also did house calls on a rota system with a team of doctors.

  “It does take up a fair amount of my free time,” he replied to her enquiry. “But it’s totally worth it. Free health care is so limited in this country that I feel it’s my duty to do what I can to help out people who can’t afford insurance. And it’s not so bad. I’m on duty today, but I still get to hang out with you guys.” Melissa looked at him sideways, wondering at the discrepancy between his caring nature and the way he seemed so closed off about his private life. She felt doubly bad about having burdened him with her life history when he hadn’t shared anything with her. She was usually good at encouraging people to open up to her, and, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t interested in her as a mate, she still had the urge to encourage him to talk to her.

  “Connor said you’re not from around here?” she asked, when they were back at the national forest and stepping out of the car. He looked at her, glints of amber flashing in his eyes.

  “You don’t remember me, do you?” he said.

  “Remember you? From where?”

  “I grew up near Ridgley.” Melissa stopped walking.

  “That’s where I’m from,” she said. “But you didn’t go to Ridgley High School? I don’t recall seeing you there.”

  “I was there,” he said. “But only for six months.”

  “Why such a short time – ” she broke off. His body language had changed. He no longer carried himself confidently. His head was drooping a little, and he had his hands in his pockets.

  “I was asked to leave,” he said, after a long silence. She looked at him until he met her eyes. They were full of an emotion she couldn’t pin down. Is he angry? Regretful? The question she was about to ask died on her lips. Threads of memory were beginning to seep out of the box in her brain marked ‘high school’. It was him. He’d changed a lot over the years, as guys did when they went through adolescence, but it was unmistakably him; the one who’d hurt her and almost done a lot worse. He was the new kid. No-one knew where he was from; he just appeared one day. The stranger who had vindicated everyone’s belief that outsiders only brought trouble. He was cooler than everyone else. He used to wear a leather jacket, and people said he had tattoos, which, in that small, rural farming community, was unheard of. There were rumors that he took drugs, and did plenty of other things besides. He always seemed to be involved in fights in the schoolyard. He was hard to miss in that leather jacket, pounding the other kids to a pulp. People began to say that he was the devil, because he could never be beat. Then one day, something had happened. She’d been walking through the hallway between classes, and someone had jumped her from behind. A big, hairy hand clamped down over her mouth, stinking of that home-made liquor all the kids used to drink, and it prevented her from looking around or calling out. The arm that was around her waist lifted her completely off the ground. There was laughing, and the usual fat-girl taunts. She’d been almost unconscious with fear as she was hauled across the corridor and dragged into a dark storage room. Her head had been held back, and her nose pinched, and some of that nasty liquor had been tipped down her throat. She’d coughed and choked, trying not to swallow it, but it burned its way down, and very soon she felt weak and woozy. Rough hands had pulled her t-shirt off and her skirt, while the taunts and insults continued. She was so terrified, but so sleepy at the same time. She was only aware of the barest snatches of things – the sound of zippers being undone, sudden loud voices, the sweep of black leather on her bare skin, a yell of pain. And then it was over. She was lying on a bed in the nurse’s room. She didn’t have any panties on, and a nurse was peering between her legs.

  “She’ll be praising God that he didn’t get to have his way with her,” the nurse was saying to one of her colleagues. Melissa clapped her hand over her bare crotch, her face flaming.

  “What happened?” she said weakly.

  “Billy-Joe and Earl caught that monster, James, attacking you. It’s a good job they came along when they did, or he would’ve done a lot more than strip your clothes off of you,” the nurse said.

  “They made me drink alcohol,” Melissa said.

  “Not they, honey, he. It was James who did this to you. Those boys rescued you.” She chuckled. “Looks like you put up quite a fight though. You scratched his face good. He was bleeding like hell when they caught him.”

  “I did?” She felt so dazed. Would she go scratching anyone? Maybe if they were attacking her. But all she remembered was her hands being held tightly while her clothes were being torn off.

  “I’ve called your momma. She’s going to bring you some clothes, because that animal ripped yours to shreds, and then she’ll take you home,” the nurse said, and gave her a sheet to wrap around herself.

  Melissa had taken two weeks off school. When she returned, James had gone and there’d been a million curious eyes following her down the corridor. Billy-Joe had caught up with her as she was on her way to her first class. He put his hands on his knees, bending down to her level
, a huge grin striping his face.

  “Good to see you back, Melissa,” he said. “You don’t have to thank me for saving you or nothing. Just as long as you know it was that animal, James, who did that to you.” His pale blue eyes were drilling into her. “When me and my boys caught him attacking you, it was all we could do not to kill that bastard.” He shook his head slowly, a caricature of disgust. Melissa nodded.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  After that, things were different. The bullying stopped altogether, and kids were nice to her, giving her things, helping her to carry her bags. For a little while, she became a heroine – the girl who had narrowly avoided being ravished by the devil. She hadn’t enjoyed the attention though. It had curdled in her stomach, churned up with the reek of that cheap corn liquor that never quite left her nostrils. She’d worked her ass off and graduated as early as possible, and left, resolving never to think of the school again. And she’d almost succeeded. Until now.

  She was back in the present, standing in a forest with the man who had almost raped her. The snow seemed to be singing, a high, piercing note. Or maybe it was her ears ringing. Harley was gazing at her, and his face was full of pain.

  “You’re James,” she said in a quiet voice.

  “James is a name I took for myself when I attended a human high school. Harley is my real name,” he said.

  “You attacked me.”

  “No, Melissa. I didn’t. I would never have hurt you – ” His voice broke with emotion.

  “You attacked me, and Billy-Joe and Earl saved me. They were in my class; I saw them every day after that. They were standing next to me in our graduation photo. They became the heroes of the school.”

  “Melissa, no – ” Harley began, but Melissa clapped her hand over her mouth. She thought she was going to be sick, and sweet, rotten alcohol rose like bile in the back of her throat. “Breathe,” he said. “Take long, slow breaths.” His hand hovered near her back, but he didn’t lay it on her.

  “I need to get back inside,” she said, and began to walk quickly towards the cabins.

  “Please be careful not to slip,” he said from behind her. “Melissa, I’m not going to follow you or harass you, but please believe that I never did anything to hurt you that day, and I never would.”

  Melissa could barely hear his words as she stumbled away from him. Blood was pounding in her ears. A whole world had just opened up, like a Pandora’s box of ugly memories, and it was far more than she could cope with. Somehow she managed to stumble all the way back to the cabin without falling in the snow. Only when she was on the doorstep did she dare to look behind her. Harley was nowhere in sight. Had he left? He’d said he wasn’t going to follow her. I need to calm myself right down and not ruin Lauren and Connor’s party, she told herself, and took some more deep breaths, trying to force her memories to go back into their box. Just then, Kristin rounded the corner.

  “Hey, hun,” she said brightly. “Did you find the spice you were looking for?” Melissa nodded. “We just got Harley’s message saying he had to leave. Shame isn’t it? Must suck being a doctor and always being on duty. How did it go with him?” She elbowed Melissa, face bright with anticipation.

  “Oh, it was fine. Nothing happened between us. We got on ok, but there was no spark.”

  “What? From the way he was looking at you, I can tell you that’s not true at all!”

  “Kristin, can you just drop it, please?” Melissa said, still too shaken up to think of something clever to say. Kristin regarded her more closely.

  “You look really pale, babe. Are you ok?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I just need to eat something,” she said.

  “Well, you’re in luck. The barbecue’s going – as if you couldn’t smell it,” Kristin said. Melissa actually hadn’t registered the delicious scent of burning wood until now. “And there are plenty of snacks indoors.” Kristin held the door open, and Melissa passed through. To Melissa’s great relief, there was no-one else there.

  “Where is everyone?” she said.

  “Oh, Lauren’s putting Willow to sleep in a back room, Connor’s in the kitchen preparing the meat, and the others are out by the barbecue. Let’s get you a snack, and then we’ll go join them,” Kristin said. Melissa brought the jar of fenugreek to Connor, then followed Kristin to the coffee table where plates of cold snacks were laid out. She badly wanted to tell Kristin about Harley, but it was too big. Her mind was churning with unwelcome thoughts and memories. And Harley was friends with these guys. She needed to think twice before telling everyone what he’d done to her all those years earlier.

  They ate some smoked salmon rolled up with cream cheese – her favorite – and some chips, and then they went out to join the others. A winter barbecue was such a cool idea. There was a fire burning in an old oil drum and a couple of gas heaters, which kept the space from being cold. It felt just like Guy Fawkes’ night.

  “What d’you do to scare Harley off?” Roman said to Melissa as she joined the group. Kristin slapped him on the arm.

  “Hey, you’re not funny,” she said, a hint of sternness in her voice.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an idiot,” he said, sounding chastened.

  “It’s ok,” Melissa said. Normally she would’ve thought it was funny too, but right now it was the worst thing he could’ve said. He went inside and brought out a cup of mulled wine for her.

  “Sorry. My humor sucks. Peace offering?” he said. The expression in his green eyes was so earnest, that Melissa couldn’t help laughing. She accepted the drink and clinked cups with him.

  Connor brought the marinated meat out and put it on the barbecue. As they watched it cooking, the weak afternoon light began to yield to approaching night. It was such a lovely, cozy day with friends, and Melissa tried hard to put Harley out of her mind for now and enjoy the celebration of Willow’s birth. They ate indoors, on the huge dining table that Connor and Logan had once made together from a single tree trunk, then they drifted outside again, to enjoy the simple pleasure of being out in the snow. It felt magical and otherworldly, and it temporarily lulled the unease in Melissa’s heart.

  3

  It was early Sunday morning, and too early to be awake yet. The sky was pitch black, and Melissa could see from opening her curtain an inch that more snow had fallen. She’d woken up with her heart pounding, still tangled up in a nightmare. She tried to remember it, but it was gone. It’s so weird how some dreams stay with you, but others are like ghosts, fleeing the second you wake up. She tried to keep her mind empty – a trick she’d taught herself for getting back to sleep when she woke in the night, as she often did. But it was no use. Thoughts of high school bombarded her mind. When she’d walked out of the school gates for the last time, she’d thought that was it. She’d been bullied, attacked, then treated like a heroine. And none of it had been deserved. It was all so wrong and hollow.

  She was the only one from her high school to go to her college, and then she’d been safe, and capable of putting her painful teenage years behind her. She’d majored in sociology, and planned on building a career in charity work, as she wanted to help other people, and prevent them from experiencing unnecessary suffering. After she graduated, living in her hometown again wasn’t an option, as much as she loved her parents. But her best friend in college, Kristin, was from a town called Hope Valley, and she always spoke of it with such affection.

  Melissa visited her there during a college vacation, and discovered that she wasn’t exaggerating. It was a truly lovely place, full of the sweetest, kindest people you could imagine. It was a small community, but as far away from the small-minded meanness of her own hometown as it was possible to be. She’d moved there as soon as she was done with school, and she hadn’t regretted it for a second.

  And now someone had stepped out from her past and intruded into her peaceful, happy, Hope Valley life. The one who had hurt her more than anyone, but also saved her. It was a paradox that her mind
could never quite process. Every time she thought about it, it was like she was trying to slot a star-shaped peg into a heart-shaped hole. Now was no different. The memories hadn’t changed: leather, alcohol, the burning of her skin as her clothes were ripped off, the suffocating feeling of having a hand clamped over her mouth. And the alcohol had made everything so woozy. It was like a hall of mirrors. Harley’s words from the day before came back to her. He said he hadn’t done anything to hurt her. And he’d since become a doctor, so he could spend his life caring for people. It didn’t make sense. She needed to speak to her parents. But it was too early to call. She tossed and turned in bed for a while, but sleep had retreated for the night. At last, unable to stand being alone with her thoughts for a moment longer, she pulled her phone out.

  There was the Shiftr app, with its perky little paw print, staring at her from the home screen. Of her own accord, her thumb tapped the icon and the app opened. What is it about technology that’s so irresistible? Even cakes were easier to resist than the urge to check her messages. She swiped to her inbox and tapped to open it. He’d messaged her, of course. His message said:

  Hi, Melissa. I meant what I said yesterday – I’m not going to follow you or harass you. This is the only message that I’ll send you. But it’s also true that I wasn’t the one who attacked you at school. That’s the last thing I would have done. I wish you’d give me a chance to explain. I know it might be hard to trust me after what happened to you, but the person you see today is the person I’ve always been. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you. If you’re willing to speak to me, even if it’s someplace public, please send me a message, and I’ll be there.

  Yours,

  Harley.

  He sounded so genuine. And she wanted to trust him, but there was also a giant block in her mind that she just couldn’t get past. She’d tasted the salty sweat from the attacker’s palm on her lips for months afterwards. Was it his hand – the hand that had touched her so gently when she’d been having a panic attack? The thought brought her close to retching.