by Parks, AL
There was no telling how long she sat there, sweeping the light around the room, making sure everything was as it should be. The phone was hot in her hand. She knew she should conserve the battery, but was hoping against hope that the power would come back on. Then she could put the phone back on the charger. The room would be flooded in light once again. Light was safety. Monsters couldn’t show their evilness in the light.
Her phone rang, and she nearly dropped it. She answered it without checking the caller ID.
“Hello?” Even to her own ears she sounded like a scared little girl.
“Clarissa? It’s Griff. Are you alright?” His voice sent warmth through her body. It was calming, even if he did sound a little apprehensive.
“The power’s out.” She choked down a cry as her eyes swept the dark room once again.
“Yeah, it’s out here, also. I thought I’d call and check - are you okay?”
“It’s just really dark and I can’t see anything.” She pulled her legs tighter into her chest, and pushed back against the headboard.
“Well, the storm should be over soon and - “
The line went silent. Clarissa pulled the phone away from her ear. It was dead. The battery had drained, and the only lifeline she had was gone. She curled into a fetal position, and pulled the covers up over her head. She had done this so many times when she was growing up. Right after her mother had kissed her goodnight, turned out the light, and closed the door.
***
“Clarissa?” Griff pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the screen that said the call had failed. He pressed the button to call her back. It went straight to voicemail. “Damn, her phone must have died,” he muttered under his breath.
She had sounded so strange on the phone. Something wasn’t right. Clarissa was strong, tough-as-nails. At least she had been for the little time he had known her. Certainly the power outage and storm couldn’t be scaring her. The girl had grown up in the area. She had to be used to these fall rainstorms. It’s not like it was a hurricane, or anything.
Still, Griff could not get past the sound of her voice. It had been so small. Almost as if he were speaking to a child. He exhaled loudly and grabbed his jacket. Fishing the keys out of the pocket, he darted to the truck in the pouring rain. He backed out and headed across town for no reason he could put into words. It was ridiculous to be out in this weather. And for what? A girl? But Clarissa was so much more than just a girl.
As he made his way through the deserted streets, he wondered what it was about Clarissa that had him out in a nasty storm just to make sure she was okay. She was a certified pain in his ass. She knew nothing about the business, was the biggest smart ass he had come across in a long time, and had more money than half the city combined. Well, at least the half that Griff was from, anyway. She had a crooked smile, that lit up her eyes. And those eyes, dark emerald green. So beautiful, yet so full of a pain he didn’t understand.
She was smart, sexy, and made him feel things he hadn’t felt in such a long time. So much passion, yet he wanted to shield her from whatever it was that haunted her. He pulled into the same spot where he had parked earlier in the day, took a deep breath, and darted out into the rain. The path to her villa had about two inches of water over the top. He sloshed through, thankful he had put on his boots.
He stood in front of the door with the brass number two on it, and felt apprehension roll through his body, as it had earlier in the day. This time, however, he wasn’t motivated by the green-eyed monster. This time he was moved by the soft, scared voice of a woman he thought would never be scared of anything. He knocked on the door. No movement came from inside. Maybe she had fallen asleep, and he was going to wake her for no good reason. Something in the pit of his stomach told him to make certain she was all right before he headed back home.
He knocked again, a little more forcefully this time.
“Who is it?”
“It’s Griff. Let me in before I drown out here.”
He heard shuffling across the floor, and something brush up against the interior of the door. He looked into the peephole, but wasn’t sure she could see his face without any light. By the time he thought to pull out his cell phone, the door lock disengaged. The door cracked a little bit, and she popped her head in the opening.
She moved out of the way to let him in. He ran his hand through his hair as she closed the door. Unzipping his jacket, he let it fall off his arms, and then draped it over the back of a chair that sat in the corner next to him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your phone died in the middle of the conversation. I was worried about you, so I thought I’d make sure everything was okay.” He pulled his cell phone out, and turned on the flashlight. The screen lit up, offering a small amount of light in room.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to come over here, in the middle of this rain storm.” Her voice still softer than it usually was, but not as meek as it had been earlier during the call.
“It’s no problem. You just sounded…off. Not yourself.”
“I don’t do well in total darkness.” She walked to the bathroom and grabbed a towel off the shelf just inside the door.
He took it from her extended hand, gave her his cell phone, and dried his hair. “So, you’re afraid of the dark?”
“Something like that.” She pointed to the chair where he had hung his jacket. “You should get out of those wet shoes. I have some wool socks that should fit you.”
He pulled off his boots, and felt his socks for dampness. “Wet boots, but the socks were saved. Thanks, anyway.” He stood up and followed her into the room. She sat on the edge of her bed looking out the window at the rain. There was very little chance she could see anything, but there was no mistaking the sound as it hit the panes. “So, are you afraid the bogeyman will get you?” He let out a little laugh.
“He already has.”
A sudden cold chill ran through Griff’s body. Somebody had hurt her. And not just an “I don’t love you anymore, I’m leaving you” kind of hurt. A physical hurt. An emotional hurt that severed trust. She took in a ragged breath. The couch was across from her. He walked to it, and sat, never once taking his eyes off her. She had his cell phone, and he could see the anguish in her eyes. Yeah, someone had done a number on her, and it left her scarred.
Griff wanted to find the asshole and make him pay. No one should have to live in fear.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m tired as hell. I think I’ll just curl up on this soft couch and go to sleep.”
“You’re staying?”
“Well, I thought I would - at least until the power comes back on. Unless you’d rather I go?” He glanced over at her.
She shook her head. “No, I would really like for you to stay.”
“Okay, then. I’ll be over here, snoring away. I hope they have a good breakfast here. I’m liable to be starving in the morning.”
Griff heard her laugh softly as the covers on her bed ruffled. “Thanks, Griff.”
“No worries,” he said, and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and covered as much of his body as he could with it. He lay there for a while, listening to her breathing. At first it was heavy and fast, but it didn’t take long for it to slow to a soft, measured pace. He drifted off, wondering what guy had hurt her and what damage had been done.
It wasn’t long before a soft whimpering pulled him from his sleep. He sat up, and looked around the room. It was still pitch black. The power hadn’t returned. The whimpering was coming from the bed, but had intensified in the minute had had been awake.
“No, please leave me alone. Please, I just want to be left alone.” Clarissa cried in her sleep. Griff tried to focus on her, but he couldn’t see anything through the darkness. The rain still pattered against the windows, although it didn’t seem to have the voracity of earlier. Clarissa began thrashing in the bed, as if she was wrestling with someone, or trying to get away.
&
nbsp; Griff got up and felt his way over to the bed. She was having a nightmare, probably about her bogeyman. He sat on the edge, reaching for her. His hand touched her arm, but she yanked it away as if she had been burned.
“No, don’t touch me!”
“Clarissa, it’s okay.” He tried to reach for her again, but was met with a hand to the face as she thrashed about screaming, “No!”
“Rissa, calm down,” he said a little more loudly. A little more direct. “It’s Griff. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you. There’s no one here that can hurt you. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” His hands circled both of her wrists to prevent her from striking out again. “Easy, Rissa, it’ll be okay.”
She whimpered and slumped against his chest. There was no fight left in her, and the thought scared the shit out of him. He hadn’t known her long, but she may have been the most formidable person he never wanted to go up against in a real battle. She had already held her own against some pretty outspoken people. But this woman tore at his heart. Made him want to scream at the world. Reminded him that everyone has their demons, and sometimes, they are just too hard to fight alone.
He scooted down in the bed, and wrapped his arms around her. She was warm and soft, and he wanted to take care of her more than anything. Her head rested easily on his chest. “Go to sleep, Riss. I’ll keep the monsters away. Nothing’s gonna hurt you tonight. Not while I’m here.”
He wasn’t sure where the nickname had come from, but he had struggled with her name from the moment he met her. It didn’t seem to fit her. Strong, outspoken, a little bit broken. Clarissa was too fluffy, too sweet, too doormat-ish. No, in his mind, she was none of those things. She was Rissa.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The sun’s rays bathed the entire room in it’s warm glow. Clarissa raised her head, and peered around. It was empty. The TV was turned off, and the lights were all out.
Griff had been there. He had come over last night to check on her. He held her all night long, whispering promises to protect her. Or had she dreamt that? Nothing seemed to make sense. She was having a hard time separating the truth from hopes and dreams. How many nights had she wished for someone to hold her, tell her nothing would harm her, and all without needing an explanation for her wildly erratic behavior.
She threw back the covers, stood, and stretched her arms over her head. On the table in front of her was a note. She picked it up, smiling as she realized it was from Griff. Not a dream, after all.
Power restored around 6 this morning.
Made a thorough check of place before I left. (Bogeyman free)
Went to shop.
Griff
P.S. You still owe me breakfast.
Folding the note, she placed it in her journal. Normally she would have been mortified that she had allowed someone to see that side of her. Fragile, scared, not in control of what she was feeling or saying. For some reason, she trusted Griff. For the first time, she felt as if she could let go of some of the fear because he had her back. That was a great - yet, unexpected - feeling.
She called room service, ordered a light breakfast and a pot of coffee, and then headed off to the shower. She dressed in a pair of yoga pants and a long sleeved shirt, pulling on thick wool socks. No matter what time of the year, her toes were cold. She towel dried her long hair and ran her fingers through the curls that were tangled together in a mass at the back of her head. A light knock at the door was followed by a woman’s voice, “Room service.”
Ushering her in, she tipped the young girl and showed her out. On her way to the table, she grabbed her laptop from the bag next to the couch, along with all the memory cards from the photo shoot. By the time lunch rolled around, she had eaten the croissant and fruit, drained the coffee pot, and edited about twenty pictures. She saved them to a thumb drive, grabbed her keys and bag and headed out the door. Hopefully, Griff would still be at the shop. She could show him the pictures and convince him to grab some lunch. Her stomach encouraged the latter with a loud rumble.
***
The morning had been dragging by slowly. Griff had tried to concentrate on the invoices in front of him without much success. No matter what he did, everything seemed to come back to the previous night. The night he spent with Rissa. He had never thought of himself as the type of guy that could be happy being in bed with a woman and just holding her. That was all he needed last night. He needed to be near her, to hold her. He only wanted her to feel safe, the kind of safety that his arms could provide.
It had worked. She slept soundly for the remainder of the night. Griff had gotten very little sleep. He watched her, waiting for her to have another nightmare, but they stayed away. She looked so innocent and sweet. So relaxed. She didn’t have the hard edge she showed most of the time. Her defense mechanism, most likely. He recognized it. He had it, too.
No, last night…last night, she was an angel. That was the only way he could explain what he saw looking into her face as she slept. The way her fingers curled into his t-shirt. The way her body snuggled in close to his - not in a sensual, erotic way. In a way that let him know she felt secure in his arms. She may be a little damaged, but it didn’t make her any less of an angel in his eyes.
“Dammit.” He pushed the invoices across his desk. This was not the plan. They were business partners - only. She would get her father’s estate squared away and leave. Back to England. He would get his simple, uncomplicated life back. They would email occasionally with updates on the business, and maybe throw in a line or two of small talk. That was it.
No complicated relationship. No messy romance. And definitely - no falling in love.
“Dammit, shit, dammit!” He dropped his head into his hands, more obscenities grumbling under his breath.
A soft knock on the door forced his head up. Rissa popped her head around, a smile on her face.
“Hey, am I interrupting?” She glanced around as if she was looking to see if there was someone else in the room. She must have heard him cussing.
“No, just going through bills.” He gathered the invoices scattered across the desk, and tried to work them into a neat stack. “Always a fun time of the month.”
“Yeah, I hate the payroll part the worst, though. The bills I can handle. They’re usually straightforward, at least in my business. It’s the time sheets, trying to figure out travel reimbursement. Tax forms. Yuck. If I were here in the States it may not be that big of a deal. I could call my mom for help, but she has no clue about international shit, so I’m stuck figuring it out on my own.” During her diatribe, she had come into the office, closed and fallen into the seat across the desk from him.
She glanced at the invoices, and pointed. “I would offer to help with those - and I will, if you need me to - but, I’d probably be more pain in the ass than anything.”
“No, it’s fine. There’s nothing all that problematic. It’s just getting motivated to sit and go through them. It’s a lot more fun to build the bikes, than pay the bills.” He put the invoices into a metal file tray, but would have to get back to some of them today.
“Can you get an accountant to handle that stuff for you?”
“Well, it is something that we should probably have a discussion about soon. With the amount of business we are getting, especially lately, I’m going to be needed on the shop floor in order to get bikes built and out the door. That doesn’t leave a lot of time for the administrative side of the business.”
“Why ‘especially lately’?” Her eyes narrowed, but not in an accusatory manner.
He took in a deep breath and tried to figure out how to be sensitive. “Um, since your father’s death, business has picked up quite a bit. I think it’s only short term, but for the moment, owning a bike from Brad Beckett’s shop is sort of the ‘must have’ of the moment.” He watched for her reaction. Her face stayed blank, and then she finally nodded.