The Gamble

by Kristen Ashley

“Max, let me –”

  He cut me off again. “You know where I been this morning, babe?”

  “I…” I shook my head, “no, I… where have you been?”

  “Talkin’ to Bitsy,” he replied, his voice terse. “See yesterday, durin’ our conversation, I realized I was askin’ you to give up everything for me, slot into my life. And I thought, you movin’ all the way out here only to have me be gone, seein’ you on weekends or not for months, you make your sacrifice and what? That’s what you get? So I told Bitsy I’d take the job, I’d take over Curt’s business, I’d stay in town, I’d do that shit for you.”

  I felt my chest moving rapidly, the tears welling in my eyes, I couldn’t believe it. Max didn’t want anything to do with that job. He hated Curt’s business. He hated Curt. Curt had killed his wife.

  “Please, Max, let me explain.”

  He shook his head and started to the door. “Figure this’ll be good, babe, but too fuckin’ late.”

  I followed him, calling, “Max.”

  He turned to me with his hand on the handle of the door and I stopped at the coldness I saw in his eyes, a coldness I’d only seen once before. Coldness he’d aimed at Shauna.

  “Told you, somethin’s good, it’s worth fightin’ for but not if you’re the only one fightin’.”

  Then he opened the door, slamming it behind him and stalked out.

  My feet were bare so I ran up the stairs, pulled on boots then ran down, threw open the door, jumped down the steps but when I got to the drive I saw his Cherokee disappear behind the green pine and white aspen of his mountain.

  Chapter Twelve

  Norm and Gladys

  It was starting to get dark, I was frozen nearly stiff but I sat watching and listening to the rushing river by my cabin.

  After Max left that morning, his parting shot so final, I knew I only had one choice and having only that choice, in my head I broke down the problems facing me then I tackled them one by one.

  I called Thrifty’s and luckily got someone other than Arlene who answered the phone. This person had clearly not been informed of the ban on taxis to Max’s house therefore when I ordered a taxi he told me they’d send one and it’d be there in half an hour.

  While I waited for the taxi, I made the bed and packed. Then I went downstairs, booted up Max’s computer and changed the password.

  Then I wrote a note to Max. I wrote it longhand on a sheet of paper I took from his printer. I didn’t edit it or proofread it, just wrote it and left it on the kitchen counter. There wasn’t much to it anyway.

  All it said was:

  Max,

  You’re right. You deserve better.

  Thank you for all you did and for being you.

  Nina

  PS: Your computer password is Beautifulbluff

  Then I got in the taxi and paid a fortune for him to take me to the closest rental car agency which was three towns over. I rented a car asking the clerk where I could book a few nights somewhere quiet, somewhere secluded. He told me he knew just the place, made a call, wrote out the directions, I followed them and I checked into my own little cabin amongst a bunch of other little cabins in a little wood by the river.

  Then I texted my Mom to tell her I was all right, not to worry about me, I’d explain later, ignoring the fact that I’d had twelve calls and not even looking to see who they were from. Then I turned the ringer on my phone to silent and put it in the nightstand.

  Then I drove to the market I saw on my way to the cabins and bought myself enough food to last a few days, drove it back to my cabin and unpacked it.

  I made myself lunch, ate it but didn’t taste it.

  Then I took the chair that was on the tiny back porch of the cabin and moved it down to the river and sat staring at the water rushing by, my mind weirdly blank, my body totally numb.

  What could have been minutes or hours later, I heard, “Nice view.”

  I looked to see an elderly man with a cane making his way to me over the snow, intermittent exposed rocks and dead tufts of grass.

  I smothered the desire to get up and aid his journey, biting my lip as I watched his cautious approach, wielding his cane, thinking (what I didn’t know was correctly) from my experience with Charlie, he probably didn’t want some strange woman helping him and reminding him of a weakness he wasn’t likely to forget.

  Then I looked back at the river rushing across its rocks, the snow shrouded banks, the green pine trees dotting all around.

  It was a nice view and I hadn’t even noticed. I hadn’t really even seen it.

  I looked back at the man and tried to smile as I agreed, “It’s lovely.”

  He made it to my side and stared at the view.

  After awhile, not looking at me, he asked, “You all right, missy?”

  “Sorry?” I asked back.

  I started when he replied perceptively, “Been on this earth awhile, know heartache when I see it. You been sittin’ in the sun even though it’s bitter cold, starin’ at that river for yonks. You all right?”

  I pulled in a ragged breath then I lied, “Yes, I’m fine.”

  He nodded and continued his study of the river. Again, he did this for awhile.

  Then, after another while, he informed me, “I’m Norm. I’m in cabin number three with my wife, Gladys. You want company, she’s a good cook.”

  Before I could say anything, he turned and picked his way back over the snow, rock and dead grass. I went back to my silent contemplation of the river and I stayed that way until now.

  I got up slowly, my body creaky with cold and inactivity. I dragged my chair back to my porch and went inside. Instead of going to the tiny kitchen to make dinner, I went to the window, pulled the curtain back and looked out.

  There were seven cabins along the river, four across from them, dotted up an incline in the wood. There were two cabins with cars in front. Mine, number seven, was at the far end on the riverside, and Norm and Gladys’s, all the way down on the riverside, number three.

  I grabbed my cabin key, walked out the front door, locked up behind me and headed to cabin number three.

  * * * * *

  “I’ll see you at breakfast,” I said to Norm and Gladys as I stood on their tiny front porch, illuminated by their blindingly strong porch light.

  “We’ll see you at eight thirty, Nina, dear,” Gladys smiled at me. “Cabin number seven?” she asked.

  I looked into the drive area of the cabin complex and saw not much as the porch light was the only thing lighting the large, dark space. Then I looked back at Gladys and Norm.

  “Yes, number seven. The silver rental car in front, can’t miss it,” I told her.

  “’Night, Nina, thanks for the company,” Norm smiled at me, his eyes searching but gentle.

  I hadn’t shared and they hadn’t pried. They’d just given me pork chops, mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans and finished it with homemade apple pie and ice cream, all of which probably tasted good if I could taste anything. They’d also told me about their three kids, seven grandkids and one great-grandkid, all of whom where spread across the continental United States, all of whom they loved dearly and all of whom I could probably recognize on the street after they were done talking about them. And this was even before they showed me pictures.

  “’Night Norm, Gladys.”

  “’Night dear, sleep tight,” Gladys replied.

  I turned on a small wave and headed back and as the night enveloped me quickly in its bizarre, dense darkness, the thoughts I’d kept at bay all day flooded my head. Thoughts about how, this time, I’d been the one who made the good part of a new relationship go bad. How, this time, I’d been the one who had a good thing and didn’t take care of it. How, this time, I thought I was guarding against something bad when someone should have guarded Max against me.

  With some effort (and not entirely successfully), I shoved these thoughts aside as I carefully made way through the darkness, found my cabin by what could only be consi
dered a small miracle and then another miracle occurred when I found the lock in which to insert the key.

  When I opened the door I was making a mental note to turn on the porch light next time if Norm and Gladys invited me over again when I was suddenly shoved through it. I emitted a small, surprised cry but had no time for any other reaction when I was jerked away from the door, slammed against the wall, my head cracking painfully against it then I had a strong, man’s forearm tight against my throat.

  “Ain’t no Maxwell here to have your back, is there?” Damon snarled in my face, I couldn’t see him, not really, but I knew it was him.

  I made no retort because I couldn’t. I was choking.

  This went on for awhile as I scratched at his arm and kicked out as his legs, the whole time desperately fighting for breath. But he was stronger than me and the only time I connected with his shin, he pushed his arm deeper into my throat and the pain was excruciating.

  “Been waitin’ awhile, English, to get mine back,” he whispered then stepped back and released me.

  My hands went to my throat as I started to bend double, my lungs on fire. I was drawing in a deep breath but he wasn’t done.

  As I bent, his hand came up and he clocked me backhanded on my cheekbone exactly where he’d connected before. This time, still breathless and nowhere near recovered from his choking me, I fell to my hands and knees.

  I barely landed when he kicked me in the ribs and my body jerked with the blow as the pain, such pain I’d never experienced, not even at the hands of Brent, knifed through my middle like a wide, hot blade.

  Focused on the pain, I didn’t have it in me to evade or even struggle when his hands went under my armpits to pull me up to my feet. As I was favoring my ribs, my arm wrapped protectively around them still trying to catch my breath, I couldn’t even lift a hand to defend myself as his fist connected with my nose and I felt the pain followed by an instant flooding of fluid in my nose. He righted me for a better target and then his fist came back for the second round. The pain blew out in an array from my eye and I went back down to my knees and one hand, the other one still cradling my ribs, blinking away stars and sucking in breath.

  Damon leaned over me. “Teach you, English. Yeah?”

  Then, as quick as he came on me, the door closed and he was gone.

  I pulled in breath, the ache in my ribs stabbing as I did it, but even so, I drew in another then another. Then I crawled to the door, locked it and then, using the handle, I pulled myself up to my feet.

  I stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the light, seeing the blood running from my nose, down my mouth, off my chin onto my sweater. I grabbed a towel, pressed it to my nose, peered into the mirror and saw the swelling around my eye and cheekbone had already started.

  Tears slid up my ravaged throat but I swallowed them down and tasted blood.

  Sweetheart, put ice on your eye, now, sit still, get your head together then go to Max, Charlie said into my head.

  I did what he said, though not all of it. I got ice and I lay on the bed holding the pack on my eye and cheek with one hand, the towel to my nose with the other and I knew if I fell asleep without taking the ice to the sink there was no one to take it gently out of my hand. Instead, tomorrow, I’d wake up with a puddle in the bed.

  But I fell asleep all the same. This was because, while I was lying there, I cried horrendous, body-wracking sobs that really, really hurt my ribs.

  And crying always exhausted me.

  * * * * *

  My body jolted awake when the pounding came at the door and I blinked into the darkness as fear shafted through my system.

  He was back.

  God, what was I thinking? I should have left. Driven to Denver. Gone anywhere. Why did I stay where he knew I was?

  My mind blanked of thought and I jerked agonizingly upright in bed as I heard the door open.

  Oh my God.

  I was now really in a horror movie with a crazed, mountain man gone bad stalker after me, in a cabin in the woods all alone. Everyone knew you steered clear of cabins in woods! They even had some crazy psycho serial killer who owned cabins in woods and tortured couples in one on an episode of Criminal Minds.

  What was I thinking?

  I rolled across the bed, ignoring the burning in my ribs and gained my feet with the bed between me and the door when I saw the shadowed form in the doorframe.

  “Get out!” I screeched as loud as I could, knowing Norm wouldn’t hear me, he wore hearing aids and asked “pardon” a lot, but hoping Gladys would.

  The overhead light went on and Max stood in the doorframe. The instant I saw him, I stopped breathing.

  What was he doing there?

  His face at first was searching but when his eyes took me in, his expression turned instantly ravaged.

  “What… the… fuck?” he whispered, his gravelly voice so low, it slithered across the room at me like a snake.

  I realized then that I was holding the sodden, now iceless towel in one hand, the bloody one in the other and I could just imagine what my face looked like. Not to mention my sweater for I’d gone to sleep in my clothes, not even taking off my boots.

  I ignored these things, stared at Max then asked the first thing that had come to my mind.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “What the fuck?” Max repeated.

  “Max, what are you doing here?”

  One second he was across the room, a bed between us, the next he was standing right in front of me, toe-to-toe. His hands were cupping my jaws and his eyes were moving over my face or, more precisely, my nose, cheek and eye.

  Then his gaze locked on mine.

  “Duchess, what happened to you?” he asked softly.

  “Max –”

  “Baby, answer me.”

  “I don’t –”

  His hands tightened, not painfully but I knew he was done verbalizing his commands. He just simply wanted me to obey.

  “Damon,” I whispered and watched Max’s eyes close slowly.

  Then he opened them and asked, “What happened?”

  I shook my head but answered, “I don’t know. I was here for awhile, sitting by the river then I went to Norm and Gladys’s for dinner –”

  Max blinked and asked, “Norm and Gladys?”

  “My neighbors.”

  “Your neighbors?”

  “Yes, cabin number three. We had pork chops and apple pie, um… not together, of course, apple pie was dessert. We had mashed potatoes, gravy and green beans with the pork chops and, um… ice cream with the pie.”

  Why was I babbling?

  Max pressed his lips together and I wasn’t sure but he looked like maybe he was considering laughing or, alternately, yelling before he stopped pressing them together and suggested, “Let’s get to the Damon part.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, happy to be back on target and not making a prat of myself. “Anyway, I was walking back to my cabin from dinner and I opened my door, Damon was there, he pushed me through and… well…” I threw out a hand for the rest was obvious.

  “When did this happen?”

  “I’m not sure but I’m guessing awhile ago.”

  “You haven’t been to the doctor.”

  This was a statement, not a question but I shrugged my answer before I stupidly said, “No need, if my ribs are broken then they can’t do much of –”

  I stopped talking when Max’s eyes narrowed.

  “Your ribs?”

  I saw my mistake instantly but I had the distinct feeling Max wasn’t going to let it go and I had this feeling because his eyes were narrowed but also since he pretty much never let anything go.

  Therefore, cautiously I explained, “He kind of…” I paused. “Um… when I was on the floor he kind of…” I hesitated then whispered, “Kicked me.”

  Max just stood there, stock-still, his hands still at my jaws, his eyes looking in mine but his were dark, unfocused and they were angry, angrier than I’d ever seen them an
d that morning I thought he couldn’t get angrier but there it was.

  Which brought my mind to that morning.

  “Max,” I ventured when he seemed to be unable to move, “what are you doing here?”

  He blinked again, his eyes focused on me and he answered, “Bringin’ you home.”

  This time I blinked then I started, “But –”

  “Now, I’m takin’ you to the hospital.”

  “Max –”

  I didn’t finish because Max was pulling the towels out of my hands, tossing them on the dresser behind me and speaking. “I’ll call Mick on the way, get him to round up Damon.”

  “I think –”

  I didn’t finish that time because Max’s hand wrapped around mine and he was dragging me across the room as he said, “After the hospital, we’ll go home.”

  “I can’t go home,” I told his back as he kept walking us across the room and he stopped and turned to me.

  “What?”

  “I’m making breakfast for Norm and Gladys. They’re going to be here at eight thirty. Norm’s worried about me, I think so is Gladys. If I disappear in the night, I mean, they’re not young, as in, they’ve got a great grandchild not young. It’ll give them a fright.”

  Max looked at me silently for several moments, his eyes gentle and warm but even so they were very active. Then he turned fully to me, moved into me, his hand dropping mine but coming up to wrap around the back of my neck. Then I watched, in fascinated shock, as his head dipped. Then I felt the sweet, swift touch of his lips against mine.

  He pulled away barely an inch before he said quietly, “Duchess, you’re the only person I know who could be in a goddamned cabin in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere all of eight hours and be on a first name basis, sharin’ meals and makin’ breakfast dates with your neighbors.”

  I was not hearing his words, I still felt his lips against mine and it was occurring to me, belatedly, that he was acting like what happened between us that morning hadn’t happened at all.

  “Are you still mad at me?” I blurted on a whisper and I felt my eyes go wide in fear that the question came out rather than me just asking it in my head where it should have stayed even if that meant it would go unanswered.