by Megan Brooks
The bedroom window was simple enough to ease open. Around the house, he could hear axes hitting wood. Inside the room, the woman was sound asleep. He made almost no sound at all as he moved across the floor toward her.
She was out cold. He tugged at the edge of the quilt, pulling it down to reveal more of her. She did have quite the body. She also appeared to be naked from the waist down. His brothers would disapprove of taking this any further, but really… Who would know? He was tasked with killing her, if possible, anyway.
The woman began to stir. The Tracker slapped a hand over her mouth and, quickly, scrambled atop her. “Shh,” he hissed, grabbing the hunting knife from his hip as a warning. Immediately, the woman went still. “Good girl,” whispered the Tracker. His eyes strayed the length of her body. He lowered a hand down to one of her exposed thighs. He didn’t hear the youngest brother coming home until it was, almost, too late.
The Tracker barely dodged a well aimed shot at his head. He climbed off the side of the bed. The woman scrambled off the other side. The Tracker went for the window. He’d left it open and leapt from it now. A hasty retreat was the only option left to him. The woman was still alive, yes, but that had always been an option. He had done the other part of his job already. He had left the GPS. He and his brothers would come back later. They would deal with the woman then.
Chapter 5
Robin kept her body pressed to the wall. She watched as the intruder leapt from the window and ran for the woods. Her rescuer started to move after him. “Wait!” she called, reaching out a hand in his direction. “Don’t leave.” She didn’t know much at the moment, but she knew that this man had jumped to her defense. She wanted more of that right now.
Killian and Louis appeared in the door, looking alert and on edge. Robin’s rescuer pointed to the window with a grunt. Killian and Louis ran from the room, presumably after her attacker. “Are you all right?” asked her rescuer.
“Not really,” Robin said, immediately.
“Are you hurt?”
“Aside from my head? No… I don’t think so.”
Her rescuer looked her up and down in an appraising sort of way. He motioned to himself. “Name’s Orson,” he said. “I found you last night. You were being attacked. You hit your head on a rock, I think.”
That sounded right. Robin didn’t feel threatened by him. If anything, she felt safer having him around. “Robin,” she said, even though he hadn’t asked. “My name’s Robin.”
Orson gave a nod of acknowledgment. “What were you doing in the woods last night, Robin?”
That was a very good question, one Robin had yet to give enough serious thought, herself. “I don’t… remember,” she admitted.
Orson furrowed his brow, doubtfully.
“I’m serious,” Robin insisted. Her voice cracked a bit at the end. If nothing else, that seemed to convince Orson she meant what she said.
“What’s the last thing that you do remember?” prompted Orson.
Robin thought for a moment. “I was at work,” she said. “I work for the local news. I was in the office, talking to my boss about a story.”
“You’re a reporter?” Orson asked.
Robin shook her head. “I just do leg work. I do research and that sort of thing.”
“What story were you working on?”
Robin wasn’t overly fond of the way he had asked that. His posture had gone defensive all of a sudden. “Just let me think for a second, will you?” she snapped.
Orson posture became less stiff. “Sorry,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot.”
“That’s an understatement.” Robin remembered that she was naked from the waist down and made a grab for the quilt. “Where are my pants?” she asked, concealing herself.
“They’re drying outside,” said Orson, averting his gaze. “You took quite a tumble in them.”
That sounded right as well. “Can you drive me back into town? I should call my boss… Or the police. One of the two.”
Orson chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment. “That’s not the best idea right this minute. You slept through the night and a lot of the day. It’ll be dark again soon.”
Regardless of what Orson had done for her, that was unacceptable. Pants or no, she took a step toward him. With a colorful quilt around her waist, it was unlikely to be a terribly intimidating gesture. Still, she made a point to meet his gaze. “I need a phone to go home, or I need a ride into town. That’s nonnegotiable.”
A smile quirked at the corner of Orson’s mouth. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, looking down at her and raising his eyebrows. He stood head and shoulders above her. If it was possible, he was larger than his brothers. His frame was broad and brawny. He had thick brown hair and the sort of rugged stubble that made a man appealingly scruffy.
Robin felt awfully small trying to stand toe to toe with him. She didn’t back down, though. “I’m pretty sure not calling the cops after something like that is a crime in and of itself. He tried to… You saw what he tried to do…” Robin trailed off. She didn’t want to say it out loud. She didn’t even want to think about it.
Orson’s expression grew more solemn. “You’re right,” he said, sounding sympathetic. “Normally you would be, at least. But the people you messed with… They’re a bit like the gang or the mob. Going to the police isn’t going to do you any good. Quite the opposite. It could get you into a whole heap of trouble.”
That rang another bell in Robin’s mind. She wanted to argue with him, but her gut told her that he was right.
“The safest place you can be is right here,” he said, patting a wooden beam to his right.
“And where is here?” Robin asked, already dubious after the events that had only just transpired.
“Home for me and my brothers.” Orson’s eyes strayed to the window. “Speaking of which…”
Louis and Killian were returning. They came right up to the open window at a jog. “We lost him,” said Killian, after an uncertain glance at Robin.
“We should have moved before now.” Louis crossed his arms over his chest, shooting his brothers a look that screamed, ‘I told you so.’
“I thought we agreed, no more running?” said Orson.
“We did,” said Killian, shooting Louis a glare.
“We voted,” Louis corrected them. “I didn’t agree to anything.” He looked past Orson, to Robin and suddenly dropped the argument. “Are you all right?”
“No,” Robin said, flatly.
“She’ll be all right,” Orson said on her behalf. “She’s a tough one. I can tell.”
Chapter 6
Robin was very aware that she should have been more concerned than she was. She had woken up with a mild case of amnesia, on a stranger’s bed, half naked. She had been sexually assaulted by a crazed intruder whose friends were part of some sort of organization that wanted her dead. Robin was quite certain that, under any other circumstances, she would have rushed off to the police.
Something deep down told her that Orson was right, though. This was the safest place she could be.
She was still in the bedroom, but no sleeping was being done. She wasn’t sure she would be falling asleep again any time soon. Instead, she sat there, supposedly resting but restless. The smell of cooking meat wafted in, eventually. Robin’s stomach growled in response. She decided to venture out.
Louis was crouched down at a wood oven, stoking the fire. He looked up when she emerged from the bedroom. “Dinner should be ready soon,” he said. “Your clothes are dry, by the way,” he added, glancing down at the quilt she was still wearing. “I laid them out in the bathroom.” He pointed her in the right direction.
Robin headed down the hallway. The cabin was on the rustic side, but it was cozy. There was something pleasantly quaint and pure about it. Someone had built this with their own two hands for the purpose of living in it themselves.
The bathroom was larger than she expected. It was also quite full of steam. “Is someone in
here?” she asked, lingering near the door.
“Me,” said a voice she recognized as Orson. “I’m almost done. You can come in.”
Robin stepped inside. She had expected ‘almost done’ to imply that he was in here brushing his teeth or finishing up shaving or something. Instead, she found him sitting in a full bath. “Oh!” she exclaimed, throwing a hand over her eyes.
“It’s fine,” said Orson, accompanied by the liquid sound of water in the bath sloshing. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked.”
“What?” Robin dropped her hand. The bath was large, carved from stone, and steaming. She tried not to look too closely at Orson’s well-formed naked body inside of it.
“How do you think your clothes changed while you slept?” Orson asked as-a-matter-of-factly. He shrugged. “Nudity has never been much of a concern in my family.”
“What are you then? A bunch of nudist hippies living out in the middle of nowhere?”
Orson smiled his crooked smile again. He leaned his head back, wetting his thick hair in the water. “Something like that.”
Robin couldn’t help but smile back. He was such an odd and patient man - like some kind of gentle giant. “Thank you,” she said.
“For what?” Orson looked at her with curious eyes. They were a very warm brown, she noticed.
“I don’t remember all the details from last night, but… I’m pretty sure you saved me. From what, I can’t say for sure… But I know you put yourself at risk, and you didn’t have to. I… I appreciate that.”
Orson shook his head. “I don’t want to meet the man who could have just stood by and let you get killed.”
“They’re poachers, aren’t they? Wealthy ones?” Robin was beginning to remember bits and pieces from her own investigation.
“Something like that,” Orson said, again.
Robin tried to ignore how unhelpful that was. “When will it be safe to go home?”
Orson considered that question in silence for a few moments. “I’d give it a few days. If no one else shows up looking for you, it should be safe to head back home. You want them to lose interest before they figure out that you work for a newspaper.”
“What if the man who attacked me sends more people?”
“He won’t,” said Orson, as if he knew this for a fact.
“He could. I’m sure he remembers where you live.”
“He’s dead,” said Orson, giving her a measured look, gauging her reaction. “My brothers didn’t want to startle you, but during the pursuit they killed him.”
“Oh,” said Robin, her eyes widening a bit at that. “Good,” she finally managed. “He was an animal.”
Orson snorted at her phrasing. “To be fair, it was his own fault. Like you, he lost his footing during the pursuit. Unlike you, he didn’t wake up after.”
“Won’t that just make his people angrier, though?”
“Hard to say.” Orson shrugged. “There’s plenty of dangerous game out here. We’re tucked away pretty well, though. It’s doubtful they would be able to find us.” Without warning, he stood.
Robin looked away again, only looking up when her clothes were nudged against her arm. She looked up to find Orson offering her clean clothes. He was still naked himself and quite a sight to behold. The man was like a warrior straight out of ancient mythology.
“Are you all right?” asked Orson, eying her still bandaged head.
Robin realized she had been silent and staring at him for longer than was probably normal. She dropped the quilt and grabbed her pants. If he wasn’t going to make a fuss about sharing a bathroom, neither was she.
Orson chuckled and pulled on his own clean set of clothes. Robin got a glance at his shapely backside as he turned away from her. As much as she tried to downplay the situation… This was weird.
Chapter 7
Dinner was a strange affair. There wasn’t much to the meal Louis had prepared. It was almost entirely undercooked meat. There were no utensils. The brothers ate with their hands as they conversed about their respective days. Robin did her best to keep to herself and choke down her food.
Orson didn’t have much to say either. Out of his brothers, it seemed he was the quiet one.
After dinner, things didn’t get any less awkward. Louis sat down with a book. Killian went out for some sort of night jog. Orson settled down in a rocking chair and started to whittle with a knife and bit of wood. He got lost in the act, like it was meditative for him.
Eventually, he noticed Robin watching. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do. He motioned her over and patted his knee, as if she should take a seat there.
Robin balked at the idea, at first. Orson’s expression was a straight one, though. It didn’t look like he was going to try anything. It seemed he only wanted to include her - give her something to do. These boys didn’t get out much, apparently.
Robin approached and perched doubtfully on his knee. She jumped when Orson put his arms around her, but it was only to hand her the knife and the wood. He cupped his large hands over hers and guided her through the motions. He showed her where and how to cut. As they continued, Robin grew more comfortable - both with the whittling and with Orson.
She moved further back in his lap, and leaned her body back against his broad chest. Gradually, something began to take form. A bear, maybe. The time had flown, though. It was getting late.
Killian had come home from his jog, and the candle Louis had been reading by was burning low. Orson shifted as if he was about to rise. Robin stood from his lap.
“We should keep watch,” said Orson. “Just in case they come back.”
Killian nodded. “That’s a given.”
“I’ll go fist,” said Louis. “Then Killian, then Orson.”
“I’ll go after Orson,” Robin said, quickly. She didn’t much want to feel like she was dead weight. If she could help, she wanted to.
The brothers looked uncertain, though. “That’s all right,” said Louis. “We can-”
“It’s just keeping a lookout, isn’t it?” Robin was mildly offended they didn’t even think her capable of that. “I think I’ll manage.”
“She can go after me,” said Orson. The statement earned him some odd looks, but no one argued. The other two went their separate ways. With them gone, Orson looked to Robin. “You can take the bed,” he offered. “I’ll sleep out here.”
Already, the thought of falling asleep in the bed she had been attacked in seemed impossible. “I’d… I’d rather not.”
“Would you rather sleep out here?” asked Orson, sounding doubtful. The furniture was sparse, wooden, and unlikely to be a particularly comfortable place to settle down for the night.
Robin knew what she wanted. She just wasn’t sure how to best broach the subject. “Your bed seems pretty big. Maybe…” She trailed off.
“You want me to sleep with you?”
“What? No!” Robin began, reflexively responding to his phrasing. “I mean… Yes. I guess I do.”
“Fair enough.” Orson headed for his bedroom without another word on the subject. He shed his shirt, tossed it to one side, and climbed under the covers.
Robin followed him. She lingered near the door for a while before deciding that, no, she really didn’t care to sleep in her pants. She shimmied out of them and set them aside. In wasn’t like Orson hadn’t seen her in myriad states of undress already.
Orson pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed, and Robin climbed in beside him. Already, she felt safer with him next to her. Even when he extinguished the bedside lamp, she could still sense him there beside her - warm and solid. “How long have you and your brothers lived here?” she asked in the darkness.
“Not long,” said Orson. “This is a family cabin, though. We’ve lived in it before. We have a few cabins like it, in other corners of the forest.”
“Why?”
“We move around a lot.”
“Because of that gang of poachers or… whatever they a
re.”
Orson was quiet for a few seconds. “Something like that,” he said finally.
Robin sighed. “You say that a lot.”
The bed shifted as Orson rolled over, putting his back to her. “Good night, Robin.”
“Good night,” Robin said back. She closed her eyes, but her mind refused to slow down. There was something very odd going on here. Maybe it was the head trauma, but she was eager to stick around and find out exactly what.
Chapter 8
Robin dreamed of the bear she had carved with Orson. It was bigger in the dream - the size of a real bear. She touched its muzzle, and it seemed to come alive at her touch. It changed beneath her hands, like she was molding it into something different. It was in the process of taking on an undeniably familiar form when she woke up.
She was alone in bed. Robin didn’t care for that though, logically, she knew it was bound to happen at some point. It must be Orson’s turn to watch. Unable to fall back asleep, Robin climbed from bed. She put on her pants and left the room.
There was no sign of Orson in the den. She took a moment to go to the front door and look out on the porch. No Orson there either. She returned to the room and was about to give sleeping a second try when something outside the window caught her eye.
There was something in the woods. She saw it moving in the trees. Her first thought was that the poachers were here and that she should run and tell someone. Then Orson emerged, buttoning his jeans low on his waist. He was naked save for his pants. He wasn’t even wearing shoes.
In the moonlight, he looked otherworldly. The shadows emphasized his lean muscle. He looked so at ease, so out home standing outside like that. He was like nothing Robin had ever seen. She felt… drawn to him.
Before she fully realized what she was doing, Robin was climbing from the window and dropping down into grass already damp with dew. She closed the distance between herself and Orson silently. He turned, mild surprise on his face to see her out here.
