by J. C. Cliff
Grant opens the backdoor of his sedan, and I lean inside the vehicle, gently laying her down on the backseat. When I step back, he moves in, pulling a blanket from his bag of tricks. He opens it and lays it over her. He’s such a good man.
“I’d drop you off at the house, but I don’t know what’s safe anymore.”
“No problem, really. I’ll just catch a cab.” Knowing him, he’d walk home, since he lives only two minutes away, but since it’s still raining hard and because of all the events that just played out, a cab would be safer.
I take the backpack and tote, place them on the floor of the backseat, and then turn around to give Grant a serious look. “Don’t go back into that treatment room. Just get the hell out of here, like right now.”
“I got it, Travis. I’m only two blocks away. Now, stop worrying about me; you’ve got more on your plate than I do.” Cocking his head to the side, I see the worry resurfacing in his frown. “Travis, you look really exhausted. When was the last time you slept?”
“About thirty hours ago.” I don’t tell him I slept for shit the night before; it shouldn’t even count as real sleep. “I’ve run on less for a lot longer than this, though.”
“Yes, but you’re no spring chicken anymore.” He erupts into a grin, trying to ease the tension.
I return his grin. “Point taken, Grant.” I pause, really looking at this man who means the world to me. “I’ll always have your back; I hope you know that, and thank you…for everything.”
“Ahh,” he waves off the sentiment with his hand and changes the subject, “just keep her on those meds. You need to be religious about them, and you really need to watch for swelling.”
“Got it.” We give each other one last man-hug and separate. “I’ll be in touch.”
As I pull out onto the main street, I’m immediately overcome with fatigue. Grant was right. He’s always right. The sharp drop in adrenaline has left me depleted. The chances of me being followed now are nil; not to mention, no one would expect me to stay in the downtown area. I wind up making an impromptu decision. I know the best place for both of us to lay our heads down and take a short nap. The fact I was born and raised here gives me home field advantage should someone be stupid enough to try me a second time in one day.
Pulling out my cell, I know my old friend’s number by heart. His phone rings twice before he picks up to answer.
“Hello, John, it’s Travis.”
“Travis! Long time no hear, friend.” I grin at the sound of his voice. He’s actually one of Grant’s old friends, and just like him, this man became a part of my family as well.
“John, it’s good to hear your voice.”
“Are you in town?”
“I am. Unfortunately though, I’ve run into a snafu and need a place to stay for a few hours.”
“Not a problem. You actually caught me at a good time. I’m in the office today.” I let out a long breath, relieved. “Sounds awesome, can we meet in the French Quarter”
He doesn’t hesitate. “Can you give me five to get everything together?”
“You got it, man, thanks,” I say and hang up.
Thankfully, the streets are still pretty desolate, but activity on the roads has increased since the rain has let up. “Livin’ right,” I murmur to myself as I spot an empty parking spot with my name on it. I slide into the space located directly in front of the old French Huguenot Church. The church lies directly behind the Elliott House, off Queen Street. John has done this shuck and jive with me before, making sure no one follows behind me.
Placing the car in park, I look around and see nothing out of the ordinary. I step out of the car, grab my backpack, and put it on. As I open the backdoor, I take a moment to take in the sight of Jules’ sleeping form; she’s so damn peaceful looking right now. I reach in and scoop her up in my arms. Her blonde hair spills out over my arm as I hold her tight to my chest, and I waste no time climbing the few steps, entering the church.
Like clockwork, John is there waiting on me at the front pew. He turns around with a puzzled look on his face when he sees Julianna. I shake my head. “Don’t ask.”
He nods his head, and we both make our way out the backdoor of the church. Less than two hundred feet away is the door to one of his many hotel suites. John unlocks the door for me, and we slip in. I make haste in laying her sleeping form down across the tall, plantation-style rice bed and let out a heavy sigh, scrubbing my hand down over my face in exhaustion.
“Travis, man, you look rough.” He pats me on the back. “No offense.”
“None taken, John.”
“Do you need me to place a guard outside for you?”
I nod. “Yes, please. That would be awesome.”
“You got it. I’ll station him just outside your door in the courtyard, under the veranda.” He pauses, looking me over from head to toe with concern. “I’d love to catch up on old times, but it looks like you need to rest and regroup. What can I get for you?”
He’s ever the gentleman I remember him to be. “If you could get my clothes dried and some food together in a few hours, I’d be most appreciative.” I pause, thinking better of the food. “Do you have gluten-free food?”
John gives me a grin and scratches the back of his neck. “I can get you that. For you or the lady?” he asks, nodding his head toward Jules.
“For the lady. Oh...and she’s milk-free too,” I say as an afterthought. I strip off my wet clothes, handing them to John. “Just make sure nobody messes with us for at least three hours, yeah?”
“Not a problem, Travis. Get some rest. We’ll catch up another time.”
I shake my head; I really wish I wasn’t like an ocean wave in these people’s lives, in town one moment and out with the tide the next. I let out a sigh. “John,” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“Travis, really, it’s okay. One day, your life won’t be this crazy. Even though you feel like you’re in a spin cycle, things don’t always stay the same,” he kindly reassures me.
“Isn’t that the truth?” I hand him Grant’s car keys. “Could you please see these keys make it back to Grant in the next day or so?”
He nods his head. “No problem. You need a rental, I presume.”
“Yes, and I need to keep it under the radar, using an alias for about a week. I’ll arrange to have the vehicle returned to a different location.” John pulls me in for a quick hug, and I whisper to him, “Thanks man. I owe you one.”
He pulls back and grins, shaking his head. “It’s kind of worth it all to see you jumping through these hoops for a woman.”
I run my fingers through my damp hair and sigh. “Yeah, I never thought I’d see the day either.”
John chuckles as he leaves the hotel suite, finding humor in my situation over a female. I lock the door behind him, and then head straight for the shower. This is the only place I could think of that would allow me to rest with both eyes closed. I hate so much time has passed, and I haven’t been able to visit my hometown, but I can’t have people like Nick finding out who’s important to me.
When I step out of the shower, it’s then I realize just how beat I am. I have one more call to make before I can lay my head down for a much needed catnap. I take a quick peek at Jules, making sure she’s fine. Sure enough, she’s passed out cold and hasn’t moved an inch from where I first laid her down. Glancing over the room, everything here looks the same as when I saw it last a couple of years ago. John goes to great pains maintaining this place, preserving the antique furniture and old world charm. It’s definitely unique and not your run-of-the-mill hotel.
Sitting on the sofa while watching Jules sleep, I grab my phone and call Stryker, my best friend. We go way back, and either one of us, without question, will always drop what we have going on to help the other out. I give him the rundown of what’s going on, asking him to meet me at the cabin in North Carolina later tonight. I add to his to-do list, needing him to acquire us some clothing, girl shit, and gluten-free food.
Finally, I allow my weary body to climb up on the bed as I pull Jules’ limp body into my arms and spoon her. Laying behind her, I kiss the top of her head as I think about all the shit we’ve been through today. Why the hell did I get hit with a double whammy, and by whom? Since she had the tracker sewn into her clothing, all I can conclude is at least one of those men were Nick’s. I knew Nick was obsessed, but this brings things to a whole new level of crazy. My instincts tell me there is something deeper to this story, and it seems as if it all revolves around Julianna. To what extent, I don’t know, but I will have to ponder this shit after I get some shuteye.
It’d seemed as though I’d never get here. The past twenty-four hours have been hell, and the last stretch of this drive has me beat, despite the long siesta I had this afternoon. I glance at my phone, and it reads almost 11 pm. I had overslept back at the hotel. I didn’t think I was that tired, but apparently I was. It was close to dinnertime when I finally woke up, and that was only because Jules began stirring.
We hadn’t eaten anything all damn day, and we were both starved. I called concierge, and they had our dinner and my dried clothes to my door within minutes. After Jules ate, I then gave her more pain medicine, thankful she didn’t have to take these drugs on an empty stomach. She fought to stay awake for the next two hours, and then finally fell back asleep.
As I approach the cabin, the gravel crunches under the tires as I slowly make my way down the driveway, careful not to displace the rocks. The automatic porch light sensors kick on as I put the car in park. Stryker’s Jeep is here, and damn near every light is turned on inside the cabin, spilling light out through the windows and into the darkness. Turning off the engine, I get out of the car, and stretch my fatigued muscles.
Immediately, I’m hit with the smell of pine as it fills my lungs. The crisp, clean country air is invigorating. Looking up into the sky, it’s a clear night, the stars are out in numbers, and the moon shines bright. It feels good to be out of the city and nestled into a safe corner of the world. This very moment makes for a picturesque photo, like a…a…hell if know any artist’s work; I’ve never been into that shit. It’s refreshing and wholesome, nevertheless.
It’s been almost a year since I’d been here last. I made pretty good driving time; six hours is not bad from Charleston to Lake Mattamuskeet. Stryker, a few others, and I went in together on this cabin. It’s the perfect oasis from the real world, and better yet, no one knows about it but us men.
Ranger, Stryker’s German shepherd, is waiting for me on the front porch. I give a light whistle between my teeth, calling to the ole boy. He gets up off the porch and starts wagging his tail, and when he realizes it’s me, he gives a gruff bark and runs to greet me. “Hey, old boy.” I rub him all over as he soaks in the attention.
Stryker appears at the front door, his shadow backlit from the indoor lights. “Hey, man. Let me give you a hand.” He takes the front steps two at a time and we embrace, slapping each other on the back.
“I’ve had a hell of a long day, man.”
“Yeah, when you called, you sounded pretty beat up.”
“You have no idea.”
I move to open the car door, revealing Sleeping Beauty, and Stryker whistles in a low pitch. “You definitely stumbled upon a hot one, dude.”
“Yeah, well, don’t let the package fool you; she’s got a mean bite.”
Stryker chuckles at my remark while he grabs my backpack and bags from the front seat. The car door slams behind me as I use my foot to shut it, and we make our way up the wooden steps, and into the cabin.
“You can put her in here, in this first room. I made sure all the linens were changed out for her.”
“Thanks, man.” I walk into the spare bedroom and gently lay her down on the bed, brushing the golden locks of hair off her forehead, taking a moment to look her over. Seems like that’s all I’ve been doing lately, laying her down on beds, and mending the broken pieces. I shake my head, poor thing. Her breathing seems fine, and the swelling is no more than usual. I grab an extra blanket from the closet, shake it out, and lay it over her, then bend down to rest my lips against her forehead. “Goodnight sweetheart.”
When I step into the living room, Stryker has a beer already cracked open and waiting for me on the coffee table. I think I’m in heaven. I grab the cold brew and let the cool fizz soothe my dry throat and quench my thirst.
“First thing on the agenda,” Stryker starts, already having the shit out of the medical bag laid out before him, placing them in order, “I need to label these for you.”
Swallowing another sip of beer, I set the bottle down. “What? Not gonna give me any shit first? Like, ‘What the hell are you into this time, Travis?’”
“Nah, I know you’re in some shit, Trav,” he pauses to eye me down and lifts a brow, “especially when I see you’ve rescued a damsel in distress. I’m more worried about that scenario than I am about any bad asses coming after you. I know you can handle a gun; however, I’m not sure you can handle a woman.”
“Yeah, well, the jury is still out on that one. She may not want me rescuing her.”
“It’ll work out, Trav. You just keep working that charming smile and those special, manly maneuvers, and she’ll be eating out of your hand in no time.”
I ignore his comment, because I know just how much I’ve been manipulating her, and I’m a bastard for it. “Let’s go over this medicine, create a schedule for her, and then we can get some shuteye.”
Stryker nods his head. “No problem. Tomorrow will be a brighter day; you’ll see.”
I let out a deep sigh and hope to hell he’s right. I pray I know what I’m doing. I always know what I’m doing, and I always stay ten steps ahead of everyone else, so why does this feel like I’m in uncharted territory? Possibly because there’s another person’s life involved with mine now, adding a new level of complexity to the mix.
I can only hope I was truly perceiving her to have the same kind of feelings and emotions for me that I was for her when we were at the facility. I’ve taken a big gamble here in presuming so, a damn big gamble. Everything I’ve ever worked for is hanging precariously by a thin thread, and I pray to God, she doesn’t try to snip it. Otherwise, it may very well be more than just she and I falling to our demise. Either way, my gut instincts tell me getting her out from under Nick was the right thing to do. There is something bigger here; murky waters are surrounding her, and I can’t see myself letting her go anytime soon, if ever.
~Jules~
I stretch my sore, and tired limbs as I slowly come awake. I feel as if I’ve been beaten from head to toe with a pair of nunchucks. My eyes flutter open, and then my brows draw together in confusion as I look around at my surroundings. I rub my bleary eyes, trying to wake up and clear my vision. Natural sunlight filters into the room behind drawn curtains, and I tilt my head to the side as I listen to a variety of birds chirping and singing a light and airy melody outside.
Where the heck am I? Everything seems hazy, and I feel like I’ve been out of it for days. Judging from my surroundings, however, I believe I’m in a cabin of sorts. Large logs make up one wall, and all the furniture is rustic. It’s not an old and dilapidated type of rustic, but a well-planned kind of rustic, one an interior designer would create. Its designer meant for it to look pastoral, but it’s nice, something one would find in a featured house magazine. I look down and notice I’m lying in a queen-sized bed with an intricately made quilt as it showcases a complex design, hosting a multitude of colors. Who put me here, or better yet, how did I get here?
A low, soft snore catches my attention. I turn my head toward the sound to find Travis slumped down in an overstuffed chair, sleeping at the far side of the room. I’m reminded of the crazy day we had yesterday, and why I’m sore. Now that he’s out, I take a moment to gaze over his physique. I can ogle him without embarrassing myself. I shake my head; how did I get so lucky to snag this handsome man? I mean, he’s so breathtakingly gorgeous and m
asculine; I wonder what he could possibly see in me. I’m sure he could have any dream model of his choice, especially one who’s not battered, bruised, wrapped in bandages, and in danger. Therein lies another question altogether. Why would he want to risk his own safety to help me?
“You think any harder in that pretty little head of yours, you’re going to blow a gasket.”
I startle from the sudden sound coming from Travis’ gruff morning voice, and remove my gaze from his hot body to meet his eyes. A light blush rises over my ears; I’m busted again for scoping him out, and bite my thumbnail. “I’m sorry; I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“I’ve been in and out of sleep all night so I could keep an eye on you. I needed to make sure your swelling wasn’t getting any worse, and you were staying comfortable.”
My heart melts from his confession. This man has sacrificed his sleep and a comfortable bed to make sure I’m going to be fine. “Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to put you out.”
Travis gets up from the chair immediately and saunters across the room toward me. The mattress dips as he slides his large body next to mine on the bed. He pulls me into his body for a brief hug, and his voice is full of sincerity, commanding, “Don’t say things like that. You are never an inconvenience to me, understand?” He leans back as both of his eyes lift to mine, brooking no argument.
I bite my lower lip in nervous response. “Okay. Thank you for watching over me.”
“How are you feeling this morning?”
“I’m a little achy, stiff and sore.”
He nods his head, and then pulls away from me as he reaches for a bottle of water and some pills, which are on the nightstand beside me. I raise my brows in question.
“Dr. Anderson gave me a supply of medicine for you. I want you to take these for pain, and they will also help keep the swelling down.” I nod and take the pills, which Travis has laid in my hand, and swallow them down with the water he provides.
