Exposed - My Mountain Man Protector
Page 9
“Well, little lady, you did quite a job on this guy. It’s not every day we don’t need to use cuffs.”
I smiled, and they opened the back door and heaved Angelo in.
Officer Sherpe returned, his squinty eyes on a pad of paper in his hands.
“We’ll get this guy down to the station, but we’re gonna need a statement from you in the next few days. What did you say your name was?”
“Claire Bell.”
“Right. This Angelo Monti, he’s your husband, correct?”
“Correct.”
“And just now he was trying to kill you, and before that he was chasing you?”
“Yes. I saw him kill another man about a week ago.”
“All right. Now what’s a number we can reach you at?”
“609-768-3736.”
“All righty. And this man here, this Blake, he’s your…”
Blake and I exchanged an awkward look. What was he really? He was definitely not my boyfriend, and yet he was much more than just a friend.
“A friend,” Blake said after a minute.
A knowing smile played on Officer Sherpe’s face.
“Right, friend.”
He closed his pad and walked back to his car.
“Well, Claire Bell, we’ll be in touch.”
We waved and they left us, me, Blake, and my burned-out car.
Blake cast a glance over its charred hulk. “Do you want to check if anything is salvageable?”
I shook my head. “I’ll let the fire crew do that. Anything in there is from my old life. I don’t need it anymore.”
Blake nodded again, still not looking at me directly. “And you’re fine with…coming back to the cabin?”
“Yes, of course. I…have nowhere else to go. Thank you, Blake. For everything.”
He gave a jerky sort of nod and started walking back the way we’d come, toward the forest.
“We better get going. If we head out now, we may be able to make it to the cabin before dark.”
This third trip was again a completely different experience than the first two. My body was light. Everything felt light, the lightness only growing the farther up the mountain I got. And yet the disappearance of the worry about Angelo had revealed a different sort of tension: that with Blake.
As we continued up, he was once again lost in his own thoughts, his gaze fixed in the direction we were headed. This trip took forever. With no conversation and the same sights as the last two trips, there was nothing to distract me from my anxiousness.
What had caused this change in Blake, and what did it mean about us? Was there even an ‘us’ at all?
By the time I spotted the familiar wood of the cabin in the distance, we still hadn’t spoken a single word to each other and my worries had reached a fever pitch. Maybe Blake didn’t want me here at all. Maybe he thought the other night had been a mistake.
It was too dark to see the color of the trees; everything was just different shades of black. Once we got inside, Blake switched on the light.
“I’ll get dinner ready.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.
He shook his head.
I went to wait on the one chair at the table, my gaze scanning around the place. One chair at the table, a thin sliver of a bed, a bathroom you had to angle yourself sideways to get into—this cabin had been built and intended for one person. Blake and Blake alone. Maybe he had felt pressured into having me come back here. Maybe I was the only one who felt how I did.
I got out my phone and called my parents.
“Claire, Claire!” she gasped.
“Yes, it’s me, Mom. I’m all right. I’m in Aspen.”
“Aspen? What happened? We heard about Angelo. He even contacted us to try to find out where you went. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Sorry, Mother. Everything happened so fast. I witnessed Angelo murder someone and drove here to escape. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to put you in danger. I hid out in the hills with a man named Blake. A few days ago I came back into town to give the police my statement, but Angelo set off a car bomb in my Jaguar. He came out trying to shoot us, but Blake took him down and we got the police to take him away.”
There was a shocked silence, then Mother’s tearful voice: “Jesus, Claire, it sounds like something out of a movie…”
“I know, it’s been nuts. But I’m okay now, and that’s what’s important. I’m so sorry for worrying you.”
“It’s just…too terrible for words. Angelo. I mean, your father and I never liked him, but…trying to kill you! Christ.”
“I know, but he’s behind bars now, Mom. And after my statement, he’ll probably stay there.”
An exhalation of breath, then: “Well, your father and I are going to fly in tomorrow. Where are you staying?”
“Mother, you don’t have to do that. I’m not staying in town anyway.”
Another exhalation of breath. “Oh. Where are you staying?”
I glanced over at Blake and then walked outside.
If the cautious interest in Mother’s voice was any indication, this was going to be an awkward conversation.
“I’m with that man I told you about, the one who helped me—Blake.”
There was a silence that was too long. I resisted the urge to blurt out an unlikely excuse and hang up the phone. I had enough on my mind as it was. I didn’t need her doubt making it worse.
“Claire…” she said. “I hope you’re not… Just be careful, will you?”
“Yeah, Mom, I will.”
“I’m just… Your Father and I just worry about you. That’s all.”
“I’m sorry, I know.”
We stayed there, each of us breathing into the phone, knowing what the other wanted to say but wouldn’t dare.
“Okay, Mom, tell me when you and Dad arrive, and I’ll come down and meet you.”
“Okay, Claire. Be careful.”
I hung up before she could say more and then walked back inside.
Hearing a sizzling sound, I looked over to the stove to see Blake standing over a skillet.
“Making bacon,” he said, feeling my look.
“Oh, great,” I said, but he didn’t say anything in response.
I stared at his back in quiet misery. Those brawny arms that had held me, that broad chest I had rested my head on…and all the while, he had felt nothing for me. I had been just a nice distraction for him—a nice distraction that was now becoming too demanding.
What felt like a minute later, Blake was putting a plate of bacon on the table.
“Ready.”
“Want me to get cutlery?” I said, rising.
Blake shook his head. “You’re the guest. I made this for you too. I save it for special occasions.”
I sat back down. Blake went over to the cupboard and returned with a fork. I dug in.
On the first bite, my gaze flicked to him in stunned enjoyment.
“Blake! This is delicious!”
“Really?” he said.
I took another bigger bite and nodded enthusiastically.
“Yes. This is the best bacon I’ve ever tasted.”
Blake smiled gratefully but said nothing. Instead, we lapsed into an awkward silence.
“And about what Angelo said…” I said after a minute.
Blake held up his hand. “Let’s not even dignify it by discussing it.”
“But, Blake—”
His headshake was firm.
“Claire, he was just trying to hurt you. Besides, you were a different person then. When I was younger, before I came here, I did some things I’m not proud of either.”
“But…what if he’s right? What if that is who I am: a shallow, materialistic girl? What if my being here is the anomaly, not the other way around?”
Blake shook his head again. His blue-flint gaze rested on mine.
“Well then, what do you feel now?”
“What do you mean?”
&nb
sp; “Do you want to go back into downtown Aspen? Was the bacon really not as good as you said?
Are you sorry to be here?”
“No. God, no, Blake. I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be. This place is… I can’t describe it. It’s everything I could’ve asked for, and yet I don’t think I would have; I wouldn’t have ever guessed that I could be this content here, living like this.”
Now Blake was smiling too.
“Claire, I was worried that this, all this…it was too much. That you felt obligated to come back.”
I peered into his face, suddenly understanding everything.
“Blake, I want to be here—if you want me here that is.”
Wearing a goofy smile like I’d just kissed him, Blake said, “This has been the best week I can remember having in a long time.”
Now it was my turn to smile. “Me too.”
And now, since Blake was still smiling that goofy, just-been-kissed smile, I decided to actually kiss him.
What followed was natural: the meeting of lips, the gliding of hands, the sliding off of clothes, the sinking together into the bed that really was too small for two. But that was just fine, because in that moment, we were one.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
My feet woke me up in the middle of the night by shaking. They were cramped, aching. I untwined myself from Blake, put on my coat, and walked outside.
The dew-wet grass crunched under my feet. Above, the moon was a thin banana. I couldn’t see much, but maybe that was the point. My feet hadn’t brought me out here to enjoy the scenery; they had brought me out here so I could be alone, be still, see where I was at—see what it was I really wanted.
Already I felt the wave of affection I had for Blake threatening to sweep me up and away, me yielding to him completely, unthinkingly, wonderfully. Dangerously. The last man I had felt feelings like this for had tried to kill me and was now behind bars. My mother’s words repeated in my head: “Be careful.”
Before, I had hung up the phone because I’d known what she had wanted to say. It was what I’d thought myself ever since I had found out about Angelo. After what “love” had already done to me, after I’d chosen someone so entirely wrong for me, someone who so completely betrayed me, how could I ever trust myself again, or anyone else for that matter?
I walked farther, my gaze sliding down the side of the mountain. It was dark but navigable; the trees were just visible in the black night. I could make it all the way down to downtown Aspen if I wanted to. I continued on a few more steps and then stopped. I sat down.
No, running away wasn’t the answer, just how avoiding love wasn’t the way to avoid getting hurt. I stood back up, stretched, and took a deep breath. The alpine air brought clarity with it. I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t know what was right, so what was I supposed to do?
The answer came as a sweep of wind across my cheek: Wait, wait and see, risk, but risk carefully. I smiled at the sky, at the banana moon there, and walked back inside, back to my Blake.
That morning, it took time for us to peel ourselves off each other and out of bed. Blake finally solved the problem by carrying me to the table and setting me down on the chair. Breakfast was bacon too, but I wasn’t complaining. While we ate, we spoke in contented smiles and long gazes. I was deliriously, stupendously happy.
The rest of the day was spent walking, talking, and smiling. Our conversations didn’t seem to have a start or finish. We talked about life and death, music and literature, fact and fiction—everything except for what was happening between us.
It couldn’t have been just me feeling this way; I knew it. I felt it in his long silent stares when he thought I wasn’t looking, in the tender way he ran his fingers through my hair, in how he’d lift me up and twirl me when I least expected it. It was in his winks when we caught each other’s eye after a while. Blake cared for me. I was sure of it, now.
Morning, noon, and night passed in this blissful continuity of grins, laughs, and kisses. I fell asleep with my face hurting from smiling so much and woke up eager to start the day.
I kept my phone on, and it seemed weeks had passed when it finally rang again (though my phone indicated it had only been two days).
“Mom?”
“Miss Bell?” a gruff-sounding voice said.
“Yes?”
“You’re requested to come in and give a statement concerning your husband, Mr. Angelo Monti.”
I exhaled. “Okay, yes. Yes, of course.”
“When can you get here?”
I looked at the time on my phone; it was 6 p.m. already. There wouldn’t be enough time to make it to the station today before they closed.
“Would tomorrow be all right?”
“Yes. Just come in when you get here and an officer will assist you shortly. I’m Officer Sherpe; we met by Clark’s. Just ask for me at the front desk.”
“Okay, great. Thank you.”
“Good-bye, Claire.”
“Good-bye.”
When I hung up, Blake was eyeing me.
“The police?”
I nodded. “I have to go in tomorrow.”
He shrugged. “Guess it had to happen eventually.”
I sighed. “I know, but I sort of hoped they’d never call, just sort of forget about me somehow. It was nice, forgetting about it all for a while, almost like it had never happened. But now, telling them all about it, maybe even having to see Angelo, it’s going to be like it happened all over again…” Another sigh escaped my lips.
Blake patted my shoulder and squeezed it. Then he slipped his arms around me.
“Shhh, Claire. It’s going to be all right. I’m here for you, and I’m going to be here for you. It’s going to be all right.”
I let myself sink into Blake’s strong, sweater-clad arms.
“I hope so.”
That night, what we had to do the next day hung over us during dinner. It made our conversation stilted and awkward, made the potatoes taste mushy and bland, made me finally excuse myself outside to walk, to think.
Going back to the station was also going to force a decision about things. It would force me to decide what I wanted to do. I’d waited and seen, but I hadn’t had enough time.
I stared into the darkening sky, the gray swooshes of clouds, as if my answer were out there somewhere. But the clouds were slow-rolling, inconsequential poofs, forming nothing, sliding into vague ice cream shapes. I knew what I wanted, but I still didn’t know if it was right, if Blake wanted it too. I didn’t want to stay here if he wasn’t sure.
Hearing movement behind me, I turned to see a blond woman heading for the cabin. Seeing me, she paused before continuing on. I followed her.
She knocked on the door, and Blake opened it just as I was arriving beside her.
“Anya,” he said.
He gaped at her, and my heart fell to my feet.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Blake,” she said.
Even from the side I could see that she was beautiful, more than beautiful. She was model gorgeous. Her big eyes were wide set, blue, and upturned, while her sloped nose was just the right size. The grand finale of her face, however, were those full, heart-shaped lips that were drawn up in a smile at the man I loved.
“They told me you were all the way up here,” she said, waving her thin hand around as she spoke.
“I practically couldn’t believe it. No phone, no nothing. Basically killed myself getting up here.”
Blake said nothing, only stared at her as if she were a ghost.
“Can we talk?” she asked, stepping closer.
Blake blinked and then nodded.
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”
Stepping out and closing the door behind him, Blake finally noticed me.
“Oh, Claire.”
“Hey,” I said weakly. I lowered my head so he wouldn’t see just how dismayed I looked.
But Blake was already setting off down the mountain with Anya; he hardly noticed me.