by Candice Owen
Blanche managed to break the vinyl and work on raw steel. It sounded like she was making progress. It felt like she was getting somewhere, but the only thing she was succeeding in doing was wrecking the serrated edge of the blade. "Fuck!" she shrieked. She made a personal vow right then and there; she was going to get him for putting her in this humiliating situation.
Inspiration told her to check the kitchen draws farther away from the knife drawer. And there she found a collection of tools. A pair of snips that might just do it. Her hand strength alone wasn't doing it, but she was able to finally do some damage. She tweezed the cord between the blades of the snips and, with a hammer this time, squeezed the handles. Two or three strikes and there it was.
She had something of a cuff with a jagged piece sticking out, but she was free. Her clothes were under a box of garbage bags below the sink. Her anger subsided slightly. At lease he had the decency to fold them.
As far as she was concerned, she couldn't lift the wood to unlock the door, but a window she could do. The problem was that she would have to destroy a screen to get out because they weren't popping out. She looked up at the ceiling for something like a trap door. She was standing in the bathroom, looking and looking, trying to make it come to her and then she honed in on what she thought was a towel cupboard. She popped the door and there it was: a camouflaged exit. She stepped into a closet-way that led to an outside door and she was outside.
There was no obvious way to the road she knew was at the base of the mountain. Her plan was to get to that road and hitch somewhere. All of this really to teach Jason Fowler a huge lesson.
Put me on a leash! Are you serious? She stomped down the hill; she may have even been cursing him out loud for anyone to hear, though she was confident no one could, when she felt she was not alone at all. There was a rustle. If it were Jason, why didn't he say?
Blanche estimated that she was too far from the cabin now to just dash back. She was sort of committed. Climbing a tree might be an option unless a bear was tailing her…or a mountain lion. Now, she thought she should have just taken the tether off and just waited for him in the cabin.
Slowly, casually, she turned her direction back around to toward Jason's house. Blanche crouched behind the trunk of a sequoia, taking cover as she scoped. If it was an animal stalking her, her stillness was a good thing. If it were a human, the tree was a good base. In times where self-defense was a possibility, Blanche was always on the prowl for weapons, though she, herself, was one.
She held a black belt in a style of full-contact, offensive karate. At the least if someone were after her, it would cost them a broken nose. She crouched to pick up a good-sized branch that she spied from the ground. She tested it to make sure it was sturdy and not brittle with rot. She stood back up to be on the lookout when company joined her. She faltered, losing it to a partial faint.
Jason Fowler appeared and was leaning against the tree behind her. Standing up to her full height, Blanche was nearly a foot shorter than he. She let herself waver to the safety of his body. The stick she chose lingered in her grip.
"Oh good," he said in a low and scolding voice. "I was going to tell you to pick a switch. Now I don't have to."
"What are you...?" she struggled to ask, but couldn't finish.
He rubbed her shoulders. "Breathe," he coached her. "Come." He took a step forward and offered her his hand. When she did not respond he said, "That’s not a request. That's an order. Now come."
She was scared that he had gotten the jump on her. It was a good thing she got away from the Norte Mexicali drug cartel. Money or no, she might not have what it took, after all, to be a hit man. El Salvador. It was a past that seemed ancient and, yet, it would never leave her. She was realizing that if she had actually made Jason her target, she very well could have lost. She wasn't exactly winning now.
As they climbed the curving ground up in the direction of his place, he said nothing. He merely looked over his shoulder to chastise her with his gaze. Finally she had had enough. She jerked her hand from his hold. Before she could launch into a tirade on how she felt about his treatment of her, he grinned, raising an eyebrow as he did.
"Is this where you announce that you are going to go it alone?" His light-hearted response morphed immediately. He snatched her up, "Knock off this bullshit and let's get back inside where we will be safe. That is, if you haven't left the place completely unsecured."
They entered the cabin the way Blanche left it. Jason insisted on scoping it out first, making her wait in the little closet area just outside the false cabinet door. When he was satisfied, he appeared again and took hold of her arm. "Come," he said again. He guided her to the kitchen to a chair and sat across from her. He flared his eyes at her before scanning her. He reached over and took her ankle cuffed with the remains of the lease he had created for her to examine it.
“And so when I left you like this, all locked up, why do you think I did that?” he began.
Blanche gave her response no thought. She blurted out, “Well for one, you are an arrogant asshole –”
What he did next, she would never have imagined. He found the thing that would make her cry ‘uncle’ instantly. He tickled her. He imprisoned her ankle and tickled her foot mercilessly. She would have spazzed off the chair if it were not for his lifting his leg and catching her. He continued his wicked torture. “You going to give me a straight answer?” he asked. “I’ll let you tumble. Your ass will be straight up in the air. Now why do you think I did what I did?”
“Because you didn’t want me to leave!” she shouted and Jason relented.
“That’s right,” he said sarcastically. “I didn’t want you to leave. Because for one, you’ve been a very bad girl. And bad girls get punished, if I have anything to say about it. And for two, we are in a little sticky situation. I am sticking my neck out on a limb until you are off the hook for the murder and I can convince my men that you were saving their captain’s life, not just serving your own interests.”
“If you wanted me safe, you wouldn’t have tied me to the bed naked like an animal. It was degrading. I can’t even tell you –” she choked on a rush of emotion that came up out of nowhere. “What if there was a fire?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “Blanche, was there a fire?”
“No –” she said.
He jumped on her sentence. “No. There was not a fire,” he browbeat her. “I ought to tie you up again. I really ought to.”
“You know what?” she growled. The assassin in her came out to the fore, “You ever put your hands on me in a sexual way again and I will break every fucking bone in your hand.” The rage that he made her feel tensed her. Her body was like steel, wrenching with fury. “You will not tie me up like an animal. And just for the record, I am not fucking you ever again.”
A silence fell between them. His eyes twinkled. He was not taking her seriously. “You just said that, I believe. Who are you trying to convince?” She didn’t answer. She didn’t look at him. And she didn’t protest his lingering touches on her leg that still rested on his thigh. “I am sorry I got freaky with you without your consent,” he said softly. “Maybe I pushed you into doing the wrong thing.”
“Maybe?” she scoffed.
“So we can consider us even,” he continued softly.
“I’m still not fucking you,” she blurted.
“Fine. You can lay back and let me do all the work. I don’t mind,” he winked at her. “I left the stuff I brought back on the hill. I will be right back and then I will take this off of you. We’ll have dinner. Come.”
“No,” she retorted.
He tilted his head. “Excuse me?”
“I am not getting tied up again,” she folded her arms across her chest defiantly.
“No,” he said, “I wanted you to take a walk with me to help me with the groceries before the bears get to them.” He stood up and, once again, he took her hand. He held her hand and like that, they walked down to where he set
the supplies he brought.
The mention of wild mountain creatures worked on her. “Do you really see a lot of bears around here?” she asked.
“Yes. Bears, lions a couple of times, bobcats, wolves. Sure,” he said casually.
CHAPTER FIVE
As they approached the bags, it appeared everything was untouched, but that was because the enormous trunk of a giant Sequoia was blocking their view of an adolescent black bear that had dragged one of Jason’s bags away to feast. Blanche screeched and startled the creature. Jason put a hand over her mouth and ordered her to be still and quiet.
He spoke to her low and deliberately, “I am going to give you some of the food and I going to take some, as well, but I want you to start walking while I stay here.”
Blanche, in a full-blown panic, shook her head defiantly. His brace on her grew tighter and his tone fierce. Jason Fowler was not the white bread boy that the Norte Mexicali drug cartel took him for. He scared her about as badly as the bear did. “You do as I say or I will do worse to you than tie a rope around your ankle. I am not playing. Do exactly as I say.”
Against her better judgment, Blanche followed the orders. She cautiously picked up some of the bags; the bear went back to eating his stolen food. She walked by herself up the hill, not wanting to leave him. Oh this man who made her feel a million different things from one minute to the next!
She looked over her shoulder to see him walking backwards with all the bags in one hand and a can of something in the other. It looked like everything was going okay. She had mindlessly stopped walking up the hill; she let herself get caught up in observing the situation.
She zoned out and Jason bumped right into her. This time the bear growled at them. “Walk now,” he ordered. Having him knock into her was bit like having a car tap her. He was solid and she was sore from her prior injury. It was so difficult to comply with the blood of abject terror rushing to her ears. She could hardly think straight.
It felt as though she was walking in pudding. Her heart beat. She was faint, but not in the good way that Jason made her world spin. She had to make a concerted effort to think so she could put one foot in front of the other. The earth shook. There was such a tremendous rush that her heart was pounding…or they were having an earthquake. Or mudslide. Every possible disaster went through her mind but the one that was actually happening. A bear was charging them.
Jason sprayed the bear and then he pulled out what apparently was his gun and shot him multiple times. As loud and thunderous as it had been, the bear was dead silent now. Blanche collected her wits and turned around. Jason was on one knee, inspecting the bear that lolled around on the ground before coming to a complete stop. He collected what was left of the groceries and marched silently up the hill.
He dumped the bags on the kitchen table and fished around for something. He pulled out a bottle. Wine. Like a surgeon, he sliced the sealing and plunged into the cork to decant it. He drank from the bottle. He paused, not quite guzzling. He cut his eyes at her fiercely. He was pissed at her.
Blanche made sure the cabin was locked up. She sidestepped him as he quietly did his thing.
She busied herself by putting away the groceries. He bought raw vegetables including lettuce, fruit, and steak. Oatmeal. Two bottles of wine. As she checked out the pantry, she saw a bag of flour, soda, a stash of warm beer and assorted liquor. He was pretty well-stocked for the essentials.
She put the perishables in the fridge and she saw a jar of yeast. Blanche was going to make white bread.
"So what did the bear get?" she asked finally.
"Fish. I keep some hooks baited in a creek halfway down."
"I'm sure it was upsetting to kill him. What exactly did he eat? I mean -" she said softly but he tromped on her. And he was clearly on his way to drunk already.
"Don't even suggest this is about the bear wrecking the best part of our meal," he scathed. "This is about you once again going off and doing whatever the fuck you want without consideration to how it affects other people."
"I was in a scary situation. I was frozen with fear. I am sorry you had to kill that bear. I am upset about it, too," she protested. She couldn't believe he was blaming her about the bear.
"I am not upset about dinner," he blurted sarcastically. "And the bear is not dead. That was a tranq gun I used. If you hadn't left the cabin in the first place, we wouldn't have had the whole scene," he said.
"You tied me up," she reminded him bitterly. You admitted yourself that you might as well have shown me the door."
His face brightened, but facetiously, "That's right, because you have huge impulse control issues and hey, you can' be held accountable. I ought to stick your ass out there like you wanted and let you fend for yourself. I have put my neck on the line for you, lady. But I actually had some news for you. That's why I bought this,” he tapped the wine bottle. "You are in the clear. You have to talk to the police, but the charges against you are not horrible anymore."
She started, "Why the hell didn't you tell that to me in the first place?" she demanded.
"I wanted to tell you over dinner," he replied sarcastically. "Then take you in. They were letting me bring you in."
"God you're an ass," she muttered. Between the bondage stunt and now, she was pretty disgusted with him.
"Pardon me while I come down off of being scared out of my mind a bear was going to kill me. Damn," he cursed and sipped the wine.
Blanche took the bottle from him and helped herself. "You had that spray and the gun," she said casually.
He regarded her and retorted, "We were very lucky that even worked. So lucky."
Blanche took a good look at him. Somewhere among her anger, she found a little sympathy. He was terrified and though he blamed her, she could see, he felt responsible. She sipped the wine again. It was really good. It was probably sacrilegious, but it would probably be even better over ice. She went to the cupboard, got out two glasses and filled them to the brim with ice cubes from the freezer. She split the remaining contents of the bottle between them.
"What are you doing?" he asked in horror.
"It's delicious. Try it," she said and reached for the second bottle. It was a good night to be drunk.
He swiped it as if to rescue it, "Don’t you dare. This shit is thirty bucks a bottle and we do not make spritzers out of it."
Blanche knitted her brows in disbelief, "You are so ridiculous sometimes." He wasn't budging. "Jason, you just chugged it."
He smiled at himself. Then he chuckled. Then he laughed. Then he was hysterical. Blanche couldn't help but join in. She eased into him, straddling him as she sat in the chair. She picked up one of the icy drinks and held it to his lips.
CHAPTER SIX
He sipped and then they kissed. The chill of the wine and the heat of his mouth were delicious on her tongue. When all was said and done, she did so like kissing him. She liked the feel of his sexy hair in against her fingertips, the fact that she had carte blanche to touch him anywhere she wanted. The way she fit on his lap. Jason was the consummate mix of masculinity, muscle, and hardness. The sweet scent of his breath now tinged with wine. Everything about him physically turned her on.
Jason explored her, his large hands roaming up beneath her shirt to find the curves of her breasts. Whatever animosity or negative tension that was between them evaporated and was replaced by passionate magnetism. Every cell in her body was drawn to him, screamed for him. She could feel his erection through the thick faded denim of his jeans. It was hard in the soft hollow of the center of her body. Just enough tease to make her body grind hungrily against him. Just as they were hot and heavy, the rustling sound of traffic in the forest litter stopped them cold. They broke their kiss and both craned their necks. "What's that?" she asked.
Jason tapped her a couple times for her to get off of him. He reached on top of the refrigerator for a weapon. Blanche was certain this was not tranquilizer gun this time. "Do you think it's another bear?" she asked.
It turned out that the gun he was loading was for her to use. He drew open a box that was inside the pantry and loaded another gun. "I know you know how to kick ass. How is your shot?"
"Good. It's my nerve that's not so good. And we have both been drinking," she said.
"Have some more and find your nerve," he said. "I think we have company. And it's not any cuddly wuddly bear. I think your Norte Mexicali brethren followed me."
"Followed you from where?" Blanche almost growled her question.
"From in town," he answered, spying outside as best he could.
"Why didn't you tell me?" she nearly shouted. His eyes flared at her to be quiet. Blanche completely forgot herself. As far as her cutthroat skills, she was rusty, but she was focusing now. She moved independent of his direction, did the things the she would if she were casing a target.
