“Okay,” I say, watching as he turns and walks toward the door, locking it behind him.
I don't know what to think of that. Part of me wants to call him back, to beg him to touch me, to put his hard hands on me. At the same time, I’m afraid of what that could mean, or worse, what if what I feel is just my own childhood fantasies coming back to haunt me now that we're alone in this environment?
If I open up to him and he turns me away, that would be the most humiliating moment of my entire life. I don't know how I could ever look at him again. It's hard to be vulnerable. I feel like I am always vulnerable, raw; I wear my heart on my sleeve. Noah doesn’t though, he’s fierce, unshakable, so sure of himself and everything he does.
I wish I were more like that. Stepping over my dirty clothes, I allow myself to sink into the hot bath. The water closes around me, and I sigh in pleasure. I don't know if the bath has ever felt this good. Keeping my arms high above the water, I inhale deeply, trying to get the nerve to lower them below the surface.
He removed the gauze from my arm already, but my hand is still wrapped. Should I remove the bandage and clean it? I don’t want to feel that pain right now. He cleaned it earlier, right? Why do it twice in one night? Closing my eyes, I lower myself into the bathtub, leaning my head back, massaging my scalp with the hand that isn’t cut. There is blood in my hair, and it hadn't occurred to me that it was from my head.
“Yep, there's definitely a cut there,” I say, rubbing lightly and lowering myself fully into the tub, my left arm still high above me. I float, letting my hair dye the water red as I look at the ceiling.
I can't help but wonder what the madman is doing now. Why is he trying so hard to hurt me? I don't remember meeting him on campus, or at the diner. Even if I had, I would have been polite. I'm kind to even the worst customers. It's rare that I have an outburst, like the one I had had with Harry earlier.
Have I seen Raul before? I think, and it's hard to remember. I don’t think I’ve seen those hard almond eyes, the round cheeks, or the sharp scar slashing through his eyebrow.
It's certainly a face a woman wouldn’t forget. It seems designed to send fear down the spine of all who look upon it. It’s hard to imagine someone looking at that face and deciding that it was one worth loving. Didn’t Noah say Raul had a girlfriend? I wonder what she saw in him.
Noah is interesting looking. I like his hard body. His face has lines that tell me he is accustomed to frowning. His beard is grey prematurely from his time behind bars but I know it hides a sharp jawline. His eyes are unique though, a shade of silver that remains fierce in the face of danger. Those eyes are never cold. There's a kindness there, hidden deep within them. I suspect it's something he only gives to his children, and now, me. I think back to the moment we shared in the mirror, the way he watches me. His eyes smoldered, and it sent chills down my spine. Not the creepy chills, the good ones where you want him to keep looking. You want him to touch, to take.
Now there’s a thought that will ensure restless dreams. Rising again, in the water, my hair slicking back, I reach forward and drained the tub, letting the water drain and filter down.
My skin is still dyed, I frown. I wonder if the bloodstains will be here long. I don’t like being reminded of the horrible evening. Rising from the tub, I head to the shower, hoping that it will provide some relief.
Closing my eyes and enjoying the light spray that trickles down me, I sigh. It’s such a relief. I watch as the water trickles over me and smile. To think that Noah will be here in a little while. I bet he looks amazing in the shower, the water running through his hair and beard, trickling down his lean body. I can imagine the way his arms would flex as he rinsed his hair. My heart beats faster at the thought.
Will he stand here in the shower and think of me tonight? I like the idea of him thinking of me here. I wonder what it would be like to share this space with him? Sliding my hand up my naked body and rubbing my sore neck, I can't help but smile. If only there was some way to ensure he thought of me this way. What can I do to encourage that?
Chapter Eight
Noah
The cold air is nice. I thought I was over it, though. I never wanted to stand in the godforsaken snow again. But after standing in that steaming bathroom with Charlie naked under my hands, I desperately needed a cold shower. But stupid me, when I bought this cabin, I didn't bother installing two bathrooms. So now, I have to wait as she floats, naked in the jet tub.
Meanwhile, I’ll stay out here, shaking my head while trying not to imagine her. I inhale deeply and close my eyes.
I can't think of her this way. I can't think of her as anything other than as a damsel in distress. She doesn’t need an older man fantasizing about her, and she doesn’t need a father figure. What she needs is a friend, especially now while she’s all alone in the world.
Her best friend, father, and mother are gone. Her mother in Florida, and her father, Kenton, is in California and is blissfully unaware that his daughter is on the hit list of one of the most dangerous men in the United States.
This reminds me that I need to call Jake. Pulling out my phone, I dial. The phone rings three times before a low voice answers. I hear music in the background.
“Hey Boss, how are you doing?” he asks.
“I'm doing alright,” I say as I gaze around the darkness and watch the snow fall from above. “Where are you at right now?”
“Oh, I’m at a party, keeping an eye on Raul.”
“He's at a party?” I ask, a little surprised.
“No, but a couple of his buddies are. No one has seen Raul in twenty-four hours, and there's not much being said about him. But here's what I was able to dig up.”
“Okay,” I say with a frown, placing my hand in my pockets now. The chill is getting to me.
“You know how he was in prison recently?” Jake asks.
“Yeah, of course, he got caught during a sting operation. Some cop decided to run an investigation on him. He watched him for over a year until he had enough evidence to take him out. Got him on domestic battery and child endangerment.”
“Right. Yeah, I doubt that's what the cop was going for. But Raul's got a temper, and he knocked his lady around, which compromised his entire business.” I can imagine Jake shrugging as he speaks.
Yes, Ruthless Raul, had a temper and whether you were home, or at the office, you had to deal with it. It was common to see Maria walk into a salon with oversized sunglasses and a sad countenance. We all knew about it, but what could you do? The woman wouldn't leave, you couldn't make her. Fighting her would just get you six-feet underground. Everybody knew that you didn’t talk to Maria or Kevin, their son.
“Right, so he got him on domestic battery. He was arrested, in-prison for a couple of years, then got out because he snitched on Bobby.”
“No shit,” I laugh.
“Sure did. So now, Bobby's going away 20 years for cocaine and Raul is free and clear, walking the streets.”
“Damn. Okay, so now he's out. Why Charlotte Traverse?” I ask, thinking of Charlie.
“One guess. I'll give you a hint― who's her father?”
“No,” I say, not wanting to believe it all came back to that bastard.
“Yep.”
“You're not seriously telling me the man's after her because of Traverse?”
“Turns out Kenton Traverse is the one that busted them with the domestic battery, even though he wasn't the one who ran the entire sting operation. Traverse is still the fact that he remembers clearly.”
“We all know that if Traverse had the opportunity to be involved in such a heist, he would have done so in a heartbeat,” I say with a roll of my eye.
“Yeah, that's true. Okay, so what? He wants revenge, why not just take out Kenton himself?”
“Because when Raul got out of prison, his old lady was gone with the kid. No one's heard from or seen them in two years.”
“I heard they're in California.”
“I heard th
ey ran off to Boston,” I counter.
I can hear Jake take a pull from a cigarette and picture the soft flick soon after as the ash falls to the ground.
“So he gets out; his woman's gone, his kid is gone too,” Jake says after a pause.
“No one takes him seriously in our world because, hello, he's a fucking snitch. Who wants to deal with him now? Nobody. Damn-near lost all respect in the community and his family's gone,” I say, nodding my head in understanding.
“Yep. Sorry bastard lost everything. Now he wants to make sure that Kenton loses everything too by targeting his daughter. Sweet little Charlotte is the surest way to destroy that smug bastard. I hear he's got big plans for her,” Jake says, and I nod.
“Yeah. We all know what he does to his enemies,” I say quietly. “I swear to God, I'll kill him before he touches her.”
“Sounds like he already did that, Boss. I hear the diner is quite a mess. The cops came and Harry's pissed.”
“Of course, he is a selfish bastard who only thinks of himself,” I growl, anger rising within me.
“Yeah, maybe. I never liked him. But word got out that Charlotte's missing and her blood is all over that crime scene. You know what that means; just more trouble.”
I groan. “Yep. Any idea who he’s got in his pocket this time?”
“Oh, can't say for sure, anyone worth buying keeps their mouth shut,” Jake says. “I’d guess everyone but Kenton and maybe that new kid.”
“The one that came in from Cheyenne? Tanner Hale?”
“Yep. That's the one,” Jake agrees.
I make a habit of knowing who the cops are in this town and when any big changes occur in the police force.
“The new kid, he’s got that hero streak in him. I don't know if they'll be able to buy him, but I can see him being young, impulsive, and stupid; getting everyone killed. He's that type.”
“Oh yeah. You may only have her father and the rookie on your side if he ever decides to come out and ask for help.’
“Kenton is in California with Lucy and he needs to stay there,” I say, my voice firm. The last thing I need is Lucy out here in the mix of all this.”
“Yeah,” Jake says slowly. “I was thinking about that. Lucy is the only other person in the world the chief cares about, and after he's done with Charlotte…” He trails off, and I feel my stomach tighten with rage.
“It's not gonna happen Jake.”
“I'm just saying; we know how these people think.”
“Yeah, I know that she's exactly what he's going to go for next, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let it happen.”
“What are you going to do Boss?”
“I don't know. Anything I have to do.”
“Well, you know my opinion on the matter, and I can imagine,” Jake says while cracking his knuckles.
I can always rely on Jake to have my back. Yeah, kicking his ass sounds like a good idea.
“We're gonna have to do more than that,” I say.
“Are you thinking of killing him?” Jake asks.
“Um,” I say. Sure, I don't know. It's one thing to kill a man who's attacking you, it feels like another to plot his death. I’ve carefully cultivated my reputation through the years. I need people to fear me, so they take me seriously and don't get in my way. I don't have a problem with breaking fingers and busting noses, I do have an issue with murder though.
I have never outright killed a man nor allowed any of my men to do so. Sure, I'm a drug lord kingpin and I've got footmen to do my dirty work, but that dirty work never involves ending lives.
“I know you don't like the idea of that Boss, but we may not have a choice. If he's really after her like this, he wants her dead. There is nothing that’s gonna stop him. There's only so much her father will be able to do on his own.”
“I know,” I say. “I'm just saying it is something we need to be prepared for.”
Jake's right. I try to keep my nose clean, to be reformed for my daughters, but trouble still finds me, and I don't feel like I'd be in the wrong for using my connections, or my skills to defend the ones I love.
“What do you want me to do Boss?”
“I want you to lay low and keep an eye out for him, but don't be obvious, and don’t get yourself killed. Keep your ears to the ground for any movement. And let me know everything you find. Hang up the phone and stand a little bit longer in the darkness.”
What the fuck am I going to do about all this? How am I going to help the girl in that bathroom, keep my daughter safe, and avoid going to prison for murder? I swear, just when things start to look up, a piano comes down on my head. Turning back to the cabin, I walk inside and close the door. My heart stops as I see her standing there before me. Her long blonde hair is twisted up into a top knot that is surprisingly sexy when combined with my T-shirt that she’s wearing.
“Sorry,” she says. “You know, I don't have any other clothes. I hope you don't mind.”
“No, of course not,” I say, giving her a reassuring smile and sliding my hands in my pockets. Now is not the time to have lustful thoughts about the woman in front of me.
“Who are you talking to you?” she asks, taking a step towards me. I feel my body tense in response.
“I was talking to Jake.”
“Really?” she asks in surprise.
“Yeah. He's my right-hand man in every aspect of life. I know that Jake's got my back.”
“Must be nice to have someone on your team like that.”
“It is.” I nod in agreement as she takes another step towards me. Her bright green eyes, intense.
As she closes the distance between us, I don't know what to say or do. It's hard to ignore this pull that I feel towards her, the undeniable attraction that I fight to keep down. She's fucking beautiful.
“Jake can help us?” she asks, looking up at me with her thick lashes.
“Yeah, I think he can. He's a good man; a little rough around the edges, but the best in our eyes.” I wink. I suddenly regret that action, wondering if she saw it as flirting.
“I have to agree with you.” She smiles.
“I'll show you to the bedroom,” I say, turning away from her and gesturing down the hall. I look away from her and try to keep my focus. I open the door to the bedroom and light the candle next to the bed.
“I'll have to figure out the generator tomorrow,” I say with a shrug.
I don't have to look up to know she's behind me. I can feel the air sizzle. And my body tense. Maybe walking into the bedroom with her was a bad idea.
“Where are you going to sleep?” she asks, looking around. “Are there other bedrooms?”
“No, it's a one-bedroom, one-bathroom,” I say, trying to keep my voice even.
“Are you going to sleep in here?” She asks.
My heart jumps at the thought of lying in this bed with her.
“No, I'm going to be on the sofa.”
I turn to face her. She’s so close to me, I walk into her, knocking her back a step. I wrap my arms around her waist to catch her and save her from injuring herself further tonight.
“Thank you,” she says, a little breathless as her hand rests on my shoulder. Her eyes remind me of evergreen trees and sea glass.
“It’s fine,” I murmur, a little breathless.
Chapter Nine
Charlie
The morning sun shines in brightly, illuminating the large rustic bedroom in which I slept. The light spilling in is muffled by the inches of powdered snow packed against my window. I wonder how much more snow we got during the night. Wyoming can be unpredictable. High winds are guaranteed in this part of the state, and blizzards are relatively common. However, the severity of them can vary. I make a habit of the rule to not traveling during the winter.
One of my worst fears is being stranded on the side of the road and freezing stiff. Maybe that sounds dramatic, but I believe it's a real possibility.
Sliding off of the bed, I feel sore, more today than I was y
esterday. My body is stiff despite the soft bed and expensive pillows. I must have taken a real beating. Walking in front of the mirror, I inspected myself. I was so distracted yesterday by the blood; it didn't occur to me to search for bruises. Taking off my shirt and letting it fall to the floor, I stare in horror. Sure enough, my back is spotted with dark bruises of deep purple. My forehead has a nice little lump. And my busted lip is quite swollen. I'm suddenly glad that my dad isn't here as he would have a fit. Not that I can blame him.
I wonder if Noah is faring any better this morning. Walking across the bedroom. I pick up the sweatshirt and pants that he left for me. I wish I had my own clothes, but there is an intimacy in sharing his. I smile, sliding on a sweatshirt. It fits me pretty well. Noah is strong and a fierce opponent to his enemies. But not because of his size. He's not much taller than I am. Probably about six feet tall. He looks like a runner― slim with a natural muscle tone that is the envy of all men his age. He took good care of himself, and it’s easy to forget the age gap between us. Is this how Lucy felt all those months ago? I should have been more supportive of her. I know I told her I thought her dad was hot but how she would react to me now if I told her the thoughts I was having about him while walking out into the living room, tying his sweats snugly around my narrow hips. I pause and then smile.
There curled up on the couch tucked in from the neck down is Noah sleeping like a baby; his powerful face, so often marred by lines of frustration or concentration, is relaxed. And the corners of his mouth curl in a small smile. I wondered what he is dreaming about. Is it crazy to hope that it could be me?
Crouching beside him, I watch him sleep for a moment. I feel a little silly, but I can't help wondering if he is dreaming of me. I wish he were smiling with his full lips. It is such a delicate smile. I kneel next to him and imagine what it would be like to press my lips against his. Could I do it? Could I kiss him as he sleeps? Or would that be totally crazy?
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