by Melissa Haag
Mary had the alcohol ready. With a sigh, I sat in the chair.
“How are the stitches?” I asked after she studied me for a moment.
“It looks like the top stitches might have torn a little.” She dabbed at the wound. “It’s barely bleeding. Your face looks worse.”
My face looked worse? I’d been bitten how many times now? My neck had over a dozen puncture holes and several tears. Since there weren’t mirrors here, I hadn’t seen it; yet I could imagine how it looked. My wrist ached, as did my elbow. I had fading bruises from the last attack and was missing hair from this one.
And my face looked worse?
I giggled; and as soon as I did, I couldn’t stop. Laughter bubbled from me. It wasn’t a pretty, feminine giggle. It was brash and edged with hysteria. My empty stomach ached as I bent over in my ill-hilarity. Tears streamed down my cheeks, and my laughs started to sound more like sobs. Maybe it was the stress of my existence since Penny had tried to expose me, maybe it was being knocked to the ground—yet again—by a werewolf, maybe it was the fear that my scary abilities would cause me problems, even here. Whatever it was, I was falling apart and didn’t know how to pull myself back together.
Arms wrapped around me. My world spun as someone lifted me. I buried my face against a shirtless chest and hoped whatever this was wouldn’t result in another form of abuse. I’d never felt so unwanted in my life, not even when Penny tried to rat me out at school. That thought switched the mad laughter to full out tears.
I cried until I couldn’t, until my already sore throat clogged and snot filled my nose. And whoever had me, held me through it all.
As I calmed, I became aware we moved slightly, a small side-to-side motion. A chin rested on my head and hands smoothed down my back. I reached up and wiped my eyes then turned my head a bit so I could see better.
We were in my room, sitting on my bed. The setting sun painted one of the walls bright orange. I pulled back, and the chin lifted from the top of my head.
In the fading light, I stared at Thomas, his face close to mine. I saw the brown flecks in his deep blue eyes and studied his short, thick dark lashes. I realized everything about him seemed dark despite his pale skin. But, he didn’t feel menacing. His gaze held concern, and it made my eyes water again. I’d manipulated this strong man’s mind, and he didn’t even know it. Guilt ate at me. My breath hitched in a typical post-cry rhythm.
He leaned to the side, grabbed a scrap cloth from the pile in my dresser, and handed it to me. I settled back against his chest and blew my nose.
“I’m sorry.” My words were broken and full of remorse.
“Don’t be,” he said gently. “Take all the time you want. I’ll hold you for as long as you’ll let me.”
His arms didn’t tighten. His hold didn’t change at all. Yet, his words changed it in my mind. My breathing slowed; and leaning against his chest, I listened to the steady beat of his heart. My stomach somersaulted.
I lifted my head again. He was waiting for it. Our gazes met. Slowly, he moved forward, giving me time to pull away. I didn’t. His lips brushed mine, a brief soft touch. Our second kiss. This one scared me just as much because I wanted to wrap my arms around his neck and lean into the kiss.
He withdrew and watched me.
“Tell me what you need,” he said.
My heart skipped a beat as a single thought raced forward. A home. A place to belong. But I didn’t say it.
“Nothing. I’m better now. Thank you.” I straightened away from him and stood. He caught my hand when I would have stepped away.
“Mary wants to start sleeping closer to Gregory, but she’s worried about leaving you in this room alone. And, now, I worry Mary isn’t enough.”
I stared down at him. His dark brown hair looked like it needed a brushing. Maybe a washing, too. I wanted to reach out and smooth it back from his forehead, just to touch it. Instead, I forced myself to consider what he said. I’d known it would only be a matter of time before Mary left me. However, it seemed so soon. But it wasn’t. Not really. Not when you considered that Gregory would have happily Claimed her at their first meeting. They would have been sleeping together for a long while already.
“Will you trust me to stay in here with you? To protect you?”
His open and sincere expression stopped me from immediately saying no. The idea of sleeping alone wasn’t pleasant. Since my third attack, I had trouble sleeping most nights, wondering who would next creep into my room. Though I could protect myself, I wasn’t always fast enough...or aware. And the idea of using my abilities like that again felt too wrong. Somehow, I knew it was meant as a last resort, and if I chose to ignore that internal warning...I shivered and didn’t let my thoughts dwell on the unknown.
Now, with this most recent attack, I wondered if I’d sleep at all even with Mary or Thomas in my room. I glanced out the window. The vibrant orange was fading into a deep red.
“How do I know I’ll be any safer with you?” I asked.
“I would never hurt you,” he said. His sincerity reflected in his gaze. I shook my head at him, pointed at his mark on my neck, and said nothing. He heaved a sigh. “Never again.”
He steadily held my gaze and my hand. I knew he meant every word, just as I recognized the impossibility of his vow.
“There are so many ways to hurt a person, Thomas. Don’t ever promise someone you’ll never hurt them because you will.” I withdrew my hand from his. “I don’t want to be the reason Mary isn’t happy. You can stay. Thank you for the offer.”
Thomas looked toward the door.
“Come in, Mary.”
She opened the door. The lamp she held in one hand lit her anxious expression.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry for my outburst. I’m not sure why...well, it’s done, now. I heard you’re ready to share a room with Gregory. Did you want help moving your things?”
Instead of smiling as I expected, she frowned and glanced at Thomas.
“I don’t mind staying in here with you,” she said when she met my gaze again.
I stepped forward and gave her a hug. “I know you don’t mind. But Gregory makes you so happy. Why wouldn’t you want to spend more time with him?”
I pulled back and caught her looking at Thomas again. I glanced over my shoulder at him. He still sat on my bed, relaxed and unconcerned by our regard.
“Could you step out for a minute, please?” I said.
He nodded, stood, and left.
“Winifred is worried about him sleeping in here with you.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, hoping Winifred’s concern was for me and not Thomas.
Mary nodded hesitantly.
“She wants me to remind you she’ll be here tomorrow.”
I smiled.
“I’m fine. I’m sorry for crying like that. Maybe I just need a few more cookies.”
Mary finally returned my smile. It was weak, but it was something.
“She said she’s baking them now. I’ll stay with you until Thomas returns.”
I gave her another quick hug then kicked off my shoes and changed. Another long day gone. I crawled under my covers and closed my eyes.
Tomorrow had to be better.
* * * *
Snuggled under the covers, I lingered between asleep and awake. I was comfortable and felt well-rested for a change. It took a moment to remember the prior day, the fight, and the subsequent permission I gave to Thomas.
My eyes popped open. I once again had an up-close view of the wall. I held still and listened for a sign I wasn’t alone but heard nothing. But, rolling over, I found Thomas sitting with his back to the door. His eyes were open, and he watched me closely.
Neither of us spoke. Was he remembering how he held me last night? I had to look away before I blushed, and I noticed Mary’s bed and clothes were gone. They were so quiet, sometimes.
“Good morning,” I said, softly. He smiled slightly, making
me feel a bit more relaxed. “Did you sleep at all?”
“Yes.”
I sat up and winced at all the sore spots.
“Well, what should we do today?” I asked.
He chuckled, a smooth pleasant sound.
“I was about to ask you that.”
“I know. That’s why I asked you first. How close is the nearest town?”
“Further than you’d walk in a day.”
“Where did Mary and Gregory go to find everything?”
“Town.”
I arched my brow in question.
“We’re faster than you are.”
“Ah. I see. When will Winifred arrive? Perhaps she could take me in the truck.”
“I’ll take you,” he said standing. He held out a hand. “But, first, let’s feed you.”
I went to him but ignored his hand. He didn’t make an issue of it. Instead, he turned and led the way downstairs.
The door was open in the main room, and someone already had a pot of water on the stove. The heat from the stove battled with the cool breeze that occasionally drifted through the room. The smell of pheasant roasting on the fire made my mouth water.
“Do you think instead of killing them, we could catch a few?” I asked as I took two plates down from on top the new cabinet.
“Pheasants? What for?”
“Eggs. It would be handy in winter.” I set the plates on one of the tables.
“And tempting,” he said as he removed the skewered bird from the fire.
“It would be worth a try,” I said with a shrug. “They would need some sort of coup, though.”
“The way you think...I can’t seem to guess what you’ll say or do next.” Thomas set the bird on his plate and used his fork to pull off some breast meat that he then set on my plate.
“Neither can I,” I said with a grin. “But I can explain the eggs. I was thinking that I miss regular breakfast food like cereal, oatmeal, and eggs. And since you seem to be able to kill a pheasant easily enough, why not just keep them alive once you catch them.” I took a bite of the pheasant.
He nodded. “There are several meadows and a marsh nearby. They like the tall grasses. Perhaps, instead of walking to the junk yard, we could go there today.”
If we had eggs, we could invest in flour too; and more food options would open up to us, like pancakes. We could make enough pancakes each morning to feed everyone. If we had enough eggs and flour. When I finished my pheasant, I carried my plate to the sink.
“A trip to the meadow might be a bit premature. We should have a coup ready first and food for them. What do they eat in the wild?” I asked him. I used the water from the stove to fill the sink.
He grinned widely.
“We eat them. That’s all we’ve needed to know.”
“If we want to try to raise a few, we’ll need to find out what they eat. If it’s something we can gather, it could work; but if we need to purchase something, we might be out of luck.”
“They eat seed,” Anton’s familiar voice said behind me, “from the grasses, insects, and other things. Keeping them should be no problem if we build a pen in the meadow
I turned with a smile. Anton stood in the doorway, eyeing Thomas. Thomas, still at the table, glowered at Anton.
“Welcome back, Anton,” I said, pulling his attention from Thomas. “There are clean plates over here if you’d like some pheasant.”
“I didn’t come to eat. I came to help. I heard what happened yesterday.” His gaze lingered on my sore cheek.
I nodded, but wanting to forget yesterday, changed the subject. “I’m glad you came back. Thomas and I were just talking about the junk yard, too. I’d like to go there to see if we can find anything else useful, but it sounds like it might be too far for me to walk in a day.”
“I could carry you and run it,” he said. “It would take an hour.”
“Run carrying me for an hour? You wouldn’t get tired?”
He gave me a cocky grin. “No.”
Thomas cleared his throat.
“Winifred would like you to stay here until she arrives. She’s concerned about your safety after yesterday’s attack and feels this is the safest place for you.”
Disappointed, I nodded. I didn’t want to put myself in a position where I’d need to control anyone again.
“Then I suppose I’ll find something to do around here,” I said, rinsing the plate and setting it aside to dry. “What is everyone else working on today?”
“Bine, Zerek, and most of the others are still working on wood. A few are fixing things in the other building.”
He didn’t mention anything about Grey, Henry, or Paul; and I didn’t ask. I needed to focus on my own purpose for the day. There were still windows to replace and a ladder to check on. I wiped my hands on my pants and added laundry to the list.
“Anton, if you’re willing, can you help me with the windows?” I asked, walking toward the door.
“Of course,” he said.
“If you want, you can join us when you finish, Thomas,” I said, glancing back at him. His gaze was on his plate, but he nodded.
Ten
Ann and Mary had the evening meal on the stove when I trudged in hours later.
“Heard things aren’t going well,” Mary said.
“Not really. Anton broke several panes of glass while trying to cut them with his nails, which is impressive to watch, by the way. And building a coup for pheasants isn’t easy work. We need some kind of wire or net to go over the top of the walls otherwise the birds just fly away. One of the guys suggested breaking their wings,” I said with exasperation. Neither Mary nor Ann looked as upset by the idea as I was. “How are things going in here?”
“It’s going well,” Mary said. “We’ve been working on making the unusable clothes from those charity bags, usable. We washed everything, tore the pieces into sections, removed and saved the buttons, and now have a bunch of random cloth. Wash rags, drying cloths, bandages...I think we have it all covered now. We also started sewing some curtains from the bigger shirts.” She pointed to the window behind me. It now had a heavy flannel curtain pulled back with ties.
“I’m impressed,” I said. “Better progress than I’ve made. What’s for dinner?”
“Gregory brought in several squirrels. We made a stew again, like you did yesterday. Tried to, anyway. It doesn’t taste the same.”
I went to the stove, gave the pot a stir, and then took a small taste. It wasn’t bad. There was a hint of scorch to it, though.
“It’s good. But, after you add the rice, you need to make sure to stir it more often, I think. The rice settles to the bottom and can burn easily.” At least, I thought that might be what had happened.
Both Mary and Ann nodded.
“We have water heating if you want to wash,” Mary said.
I heaved a grateful sigh.
“Thank you.”
I shut myself into the side room and peeled off my shirt. Mary had moved one of the small tables into the room, and a bowl of hot water waited. Beside it laid several folded squares of cloth. I wet one and washed my face, arms, then hands. The water was dark when I finished. I totally wanted a bath but knew dinner was almost done. I air-dried then put my dirty shirt back on.
When I stepped back out, I saw many of the men were in the room and already eating. Winifred was there, too, having a quiet conversation with Mary. Both looked my way. Mary looked slightly guilty and Winifred a tad upset. Winifred, I could understand. Dealing with these men, there was always something to be upset about. But why Mary’s guilty look?
I moved to join them.
“Hello, Charlene. Mary was just telling me about the changes—”
“Winifred,” Thomas said, standing from his spot at the table. “Could I have a minute?”
I didn’t miss Winifred small, slow exhale as if she were trying to control her temper.
“Of course, Thomas.”
Mary and I watched her join Thomas on th
e other side of the room. They didn’t speak openly, just stood near each other, not saying anything.
“That’s a handy trick,” I said softly, wishing Mary and I could do that. The ability to have a completely private conversation in this place was impossible for me. Not for them, though.
“Did you eat already?” I asked Mary.
“Yes. I saved a bowl for you, too.” She pointed toward the stove.
“Thanks.” I stepped away to fetch the bowl while keeping an eye on Winifred and Thomas.
He stood before her with his arms crossed over his still bare chest. I needed to grab him a shirt from the pile of clothes in the front entry. He appeared neither upset nor happy as he stared at Winifred. She, however, was turning a bright shade of pink.
The sparse conversation that had whispered through the room when I entered, disappeared. The room quietly waited for the outcome of whatever Winifred and Thomas discussed.
I rejoined Mary, who studied the pair as well, and took my first bite. The stew was a bit too thick, and my teeth closed on a small piece of gristle. I quickly swallowed it whole.
“This is really good. Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice down.
“You’re too nice for this place.” Mary gave me a sideways glance, and I saw the start of a humorous curve to her lips.
“Enough.”
Winifred’s sudden outburst startled me. I looked over and saw her throw her hands up.
Thomas uncrossed his arms, but fisted his hands, giving away how he felt.
“Winifred. You started this. Now let it go.”
She waved him away as she turned toward me. Her dismissal of him seemed to unlock the others in the room. Many of them rose, following her as she crossed the room. They left their bowls by the sink, and she moved to look in the bag of medical supplies.
“As soon as you’re done eating, I’d like to look at your stitches,” she said. “Perhaps we can take them out.”
I was ready to be done eating, but dutifully took another bite. The men slowly left the room. Thomas didn’t leave, though. He sat at the table and watched me. Used to his study, I didn’t pay him much mind.
Without chewing too much, I managed to swallow down half the stew when Anton walked in. He went to the stove, saw the empty pot, and started to turn away.
