by Katy Paige
“You okay?” he asked, reaching around her for the hand that held her keys and gently pulling them away.
His chest felt solid as it brushed against her back and for an instant she forgot about Friday night and Wade and Skidoo Bay and closed her eyes, inhaling the clean-laundry smell of Erik Lindstrom.
“Uh-huh,” she murmured.
His voice was low behind her. “You haven’t been back here since Friday?”
“No.”
“It can be pretty traumatic to return to the scene of—”
“Wade didn’t actually attack me,” she blurted out. She didn’t want Erik to think of her only as a victim.
“Just because he didn’t touch you, doesn’t mean he didn’t attack you. You must have been terrified.”
Katrin swallowed painfully, remembering the banging of Wade’s fists, the glass breaking, the metal of the knife in her hands glinting as it shook in her trembling fingers.
“He’d never done anything like that before.”
“He’s escalating.”
Erik’s fingers flexed on her shoulder once, then twice, and Katrin’s face flushed with heat, grateful for the distraction from her frightening memories. He leaned forward to fit the key into the lock and pushed the door open, leaning away from her so she could enter first.
She took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Either Ingrid or Kristian had cleaned up the glass, and aside from the depressing cardboard and tape over the window, you’d hardly know something dreadful had happened here. The living room to her left was just as she had left it—puffy floral couch and apothecary coffee table invitingly situated across from her flat-screen TV. Bookshelves lining the far left wall.
She peeked to her right and her kitchen was similarly tidy, two chairs pushed into a small table that stood next to the windows and was covered with a cheerful pink and yellow plaid tablecloth. Her eyes flicked to the knife block beside the microwave and a chill passed through her to see all six knives neatly sheathed.
“Hey,” said Erik. “Want me to wait for you in the car? Give you a minute?”
She turned to face him and found him hovering in the doorway, his massive body taking up every inch of space. Lord, he was big.
“Actually…please stay,” she said softly, clasping her trembling hands together in an effort to hide the panic she felt at being alone. “I—I’d prefer it.”
Erik’s face hardened, but he nodded, stepping into the room and pulling the door shut behind him.
She turned and faced him. “What you said, about Wade escalating. He’s been getting worse for a while now.”
“Must have made him mad when you broke up with him.”
“Yes,” she said, crossing to the kitchen and taking two glasses out of the cupboard over the sink. She filled them with water then turned and handed one to him.
When Wade hadn’t showed up at their wedding back in December, Katrin, in a moment of long-overdue clarity, had realized it was her last chance to escape Wade. The following day, she’d broken up with him, once and for all.
He had come to her apartment to apologize, pores reeking, eyes red and raw, burst blood vessels angry on his cheeks as he thrust a crushed bouquet of white roses at her in a pathetic offering.
“It’ll never happen again, Kitty-Kat,” he had promised, beads of sweat on his forehead, despite the sub-zero January weather. He shrugged. “It was an early Christmas party.”
“It was our wedding day.”
“I know. I-I’m sorry. I got caught up in a celebration. But my mom called the church. We can reschedule for next month. I’ll prove it to you. I’m going to change.”
The same words he always used. She had stared at him for a moment, feeling something shift inside of her, to a place that couldn’t be reclaimed, couldn’t be cajoled, or charmed, or bargained with, or bought.
“No.” She’d been proud the word had come out of her mouth with surprising ease, her tone firm and inflexible.
In an instant, his face had turned angry, but he quickly composed himself, forcing a smile. “You have a right to be pissed, but it’s not like this is over, Kat. You’re still my fiancée. We’ve been together for five years. It’s not just over.”
She had looked down at the tiny diamond engagement ring on the fourth finger of her left hand like it was a vestige of something lost, something long gone. She quickly took it off and plopped it into the bouquet of flowers. “Yes, Wade, that’s exactly what it is: over.”
Katrin took a sip of her water and looked up to catch Erik Lindstrom’s blue eyes fixed on her. He was waiting for her to say something and she felt like she owed him a little bit of an explanation since he was now a part of her getaway too.
“Wade was always a drinker, even in high school.” She smiled lightly, remembering the handsome boy who’d been the life of every party. “He was fun—everybody thought so. It changed when we went to college. He got arrested a few times for disturbing the peace.”
Katrin had stuck with Wade, at first, because she loved him and believed he could change. But over time, he’d become a bad habit. He was a throwback to happy high school days. She cared about him in the way she cared for anything that was a cherished part of her past. That made it hard to leave him.
When she’d finally threatened to break up with him after his fourth college arrest for drunk and disorderly behavior, he’d surprised her by cleaning up his act. He’d cut back on drinking, applied himself to his senior year studies and graduated with his class, even securing a coaching job at the local high school. When he’d asked her to marry him the day after graduation, Katrin had believed his drinking days were over and she’d accepted his proposal.
But she’d been wrong to believe drinking was an addiction Wade could overcome without professional help. So very, very wrong. In fact, he hadn’t quit drinking. He’d just become skilled at hiding it.
“So he’s been like this for a long time,” said Erik carefully, pulling out one of her kitchen chairs and sitting down as she leaned back against the counter.
She nodded, looking into his cool blue eyes.
“I should pack,” she said half-heartedly.
“We have a few minutes. Tell me how he went from a college drunk to a menace.”
“This can’t be interesting for you.” And I don’t want you to think of me as Wade’s victimized girlfriend.
He shrugged. “I’m in law enforcement, so actually, it is.”
She didn’t know if he was just being nice to her or genuinely interested, but the way his eyes stayed focused on her had the duel effect of hypnotizing her and discomfiting her. She heard her voice start speaking. She told him how several weeks ago she’d gone for lunch with a girlfriend at the Elk Land Grille on their lunch break from the hospital, only to have Wade show up and slide into the booth across from them.
She’d gotten up and confronted him, putting her hands on his table until he looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. She’d felt brave that day, confronting him in a public place, surrounded by people.
“You following me, Wade?”
“I can eat lunch wherever I want, Kitty Kat. It’s a free country.”
“Why aren’t you eating lunch at school in the faculty lunch room?”
“You didn’t hear? I’m taking a break from that shit job. I’m going to get me a better job.”
“You lost your job,” she’d whispered, feelings of annoyance being replaced by a stab of pity.
“Screw that. I quit.”
Sure you did. His bravado made her eyes narrow with renewed anger. “We both know you followed me here. You’ve been following me around a lot lately. You gotta quit it, Wade. You gotta move on.”
“MOVE ON?” He’d thundered, making her see, for the first time, how truly unhinged he’d become. Other diners stopped talking as Wade pounded the table with his fists several times before speaking in a low hiss. “You’re mine, Kat. You’ll always be mine.”
“Creepy,” said Erik lightly as she finished the
story, but Katrin saw his jawbone clench twice and those ice shards were back in his eyes. “What else?”
Katrin turned to the sink and dumped the rest of her water down the drain, feeling small and pathetic as Erik Lindstrom patiently listened to the breakdown of her relationship with Wade. “He’s been showing up here for about a week or so now. He drinks too much and shows up on my doorstep yelling.” She turned back to Erik and crossed her arms over her chest. “But he never said he wanted to, um, k-kill me until Friday.”
Wade had been getting meaner and colder, more unstable and violent. His language was more foul and threatening, and coupled with smashing bottles, breaking her window and threatening to kill her? How soon before he acted on those threats?
She looked up at Erik and he nodded slowly, picking up his water and taking a long sip as his searing eyes held hers. Thoughts of Wade slipped from her mind and her fingers twitched, remembering how it felt for her hand to be clasped within the warm strength of his. How would it feel to have him clasping more than her hand—her breasts, her hips, her waist, as he lowered his mouth to hers and—
She pressed cool hands to her hot cheeks, looking away from him quickly. He looked so solid and safe dominating the small space of her kitchen. She wanted that. She wanted to feel safe again. This is no good, Kat. Inconvenient. Messy. Potentially heartbreaking. Remember Ingrid’s warning.
“It wasn’t your fault, you know.” He worked his jaw before giving her a tight smile. “It doesn’t reflect on you. It wasn’t about you.”
Inside her chest, her heart swelled with some undefined emotion that felt warm and wonderful and entirely inconvenient.
She wanted to cross the kitchen and crawl onto his lap, feel his strong arms embrace her and his lips graze her forehead. She bit the inside of her cheek. She needed to get away from Erik Lindstrom before her ridiculous fantasies got her in trouble. Swallowing back her thoughts, she forced a bright smile.
“Thanks for saying that. Anyway, none of it matters now. Thanks to Ing. And you. I’m going to go pack.”
She hurried through the kitchen to her bedroom, hoping desperately that Erik Lindstrom couldn’t read her thoughts as well as he seemed to empathize with them.
***
Erik didn’t watch her go.
He forced himself to stare at the counter where she’d been leaning until she’d left the room. His fury over Wade Doyle was so white-hot and intense he hadn’t trusted himself to speak. He barely trusted himself to leave Choteau without storming the police station and beating Doyle within an inch of his life.
Taking a deep breath, he picked up his glass, downed the water, and placed it carefully back down on her table. If it were Jenny being threatened like that? The police would’ve had to scrape the guy’s body off the pavement with a spatula after he and his brothers were finished with him. He would definitely have been the new face of police brutality and it would have been worth it.
Finally trusting himself to stand up without putting his fist through something, he took his glass to the sink, washing out both glasses and putting them in the drying rack. The pipes above his head shook and wheezed softly and he heard her shower turn on. He flinched and groaned, annoyed by the hardening sensation in his jeans. About ten feet away from him, through a flimsy plasterboard wall, she was naked. His hands curled over the edge of the sink until his knuckles were white.
Whatever had crackled between them in Ingrid’s living room an hour ago wasn’t going away, damn it.
He ground his jaw, staring out the window over the sink at the modest back yard, talking himself out of his attraction to her. You’re not attracted to her, Erik. That would be totally unacceptable. All this talk about her jackass of an ex-fiancé smashing bottles and threatening her? You’d feel sorry for any woman being harassed, poor thing.
Yes, of course! Poor thing. He took a deep breath and exhaled, feeling a sudden, blessed relief as he put his strange reaction to Katrin in a perfectly acceptable, manageable context. That’s all this is: She’s small and vulnerable, and she’s had a rough time, and I feel sorry for her.
The phone in his back pocket buzzed, distracting him. He clicked on the screen to read the incoming text:
If you get a minute while she’s packing, call me. Ing
Erik slipped out the front door to stand on the landing and dialed Ingrid’s number. She picked up right away.
“Erik. Thanks for calling me. You at Kat’s place?”
“Uh-huh. What’s up?”
“You know how grateful we are that you’re driving Kat up to Skidoo, right?”
“It’s no problem.”
“Good. Um, because I was kind of hoping that you’d…”
“That I’d what?” An edge crept into his voice, but he couldn’t help it. He’d do just about anything for Ingrid, but he sensed he wasn’t going to like whatever was coming next.
“A fresh start is good, but she’s going to be all alone up there, and I just wondered if you could check up on her from time to time. You know, be a friend to her while she’s up there.”
He grimaced, leaning back on the landing railing and peeking inside Kat’s kitchen window. No sign of her or her dimples. She was probably still naked in the shower. He clenched his jaw once then shook his head.
“I’m not a babysitter, Ing.”
“She’s been through a lot, Erik. She’s Sam’s cousin. It’s more for us than for her.”
“No, I get it. I just—” I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to get attached to those dimples. “You know, I’m going up there to start a new job and all. I don’t think—”
Ingrid sighed loudly. “You can’t just check on her from time to time? For me? You don’t have to babysit her. She wouldn’t want that. Katrin’s really strong. She walked away from this guy and I’m sure that hurt, but she did it. And we sprang this move and new job on her today and you know, she’s good, she’s going. But, it would just make us all feel better to know you were checking up on her. Just swing in once in a while? Make sure she’s doing all right? You’ve got a protective streak a mile wide, Erik. This is right up your alley. Come on.”
Erik didn’t know what to say. He was sympathetic to Katrin’s situation. He wouldn’t even mind taking a swing at her scumbag ex-boyfriend. But to commit to driving a three-hour round-trip down to Skidoo Bay and back with any regularity? It sounded like the sort of scenario that could get messy, and Erik didn’t like messy.
“I only get Sundays off while I’m training.”
“Then stop by the next couple of Sundays.”
“Aw, Ing. Come on. I don’t even know her that well. What excuse am I going to make for stopping by?”
“You’re her cousin’s brother-in-law and you’re like a brother to me, and anyway, you’ll both be up there without family. Think of her as your cousin. Like Jenny or me up there all by ourselves.”
“I know you and Jenny. You are my family. She’s not.”
Her voice was disappointed and sour when she muttered: “Okay, Erik. Bad idea. Clearly. Just forget it.”
Aw, crap. Here we go. Erik ran a hand through his bristly blond hair. They always do this, her and Jenny. Damn it, why can’t I ever say no to them? There was something about his sister…and Ingrid too, for that matter. His heart had a veritable wall of ice around it when it came to any other girl in the world, but those two had always managed to get around it, the pair of them. Like a couple of human blowtorches.
He sighed in frustration and defeat. “Fine. Okay. Okay. I’ll—I’ll check in on her from time to time.”
He heard the warmth return to her voice when she answered. “You’re a good egg, Erik.”
“Keep your compliments to yourself, smärta i nacken.”
Ingrid chuckled.
“Pain in the neck,” he muttered in English. “Do you want written reports?”
“A text here or there would be fine. Just to let us know she’s okay.”
“If I said no, Jenny would’ve bee
n on the phone, putting the screws to me in two minutes flat, right?”
“She would’ve been my next call, Minste.”
“You two are quite a team. And in no way do I say that with admiration.” He cleared his throat. “Fine, I’ll swing in from time to time and check on her for you. Skidoo Bay isn’t that far from Kalispell, I guess.”
“Hey Erik,” she started after a beat. “You seeing anyone?”
“You have to ask, you’re not as thick with my sister as I thought.”
“She thought there might have been someone over the winter.”
“Didn’t last.”
“Does anything with you?”
“Geez! I’m doing you a favor—no, favors, multiple favors, Ing. Maybe not the best time to pick on me?”
She continued like he hadn’t spoken. “It’s not so bad, Erik. Loving someone. Being with someone. It’s actually pretty nice. Look at me and Kris. Jen and Sam. Your parents, for heaven’s sake!”
Yeah, look at my parents. Look what happened to them.
His heart clutched in a twist of pain and disappointment, but he didn’t have the heart to correct her perception of them—the Lindstroms had been like surrogate parents to Ingrid. He looked at the ground and noticed a few small shards of glass reflecting off the midday sun, a reminder of Katrin’s failed engagement and asshole stalker.
“Nothing lasts forever, Ing. Look at Kat.”
“Hope you’re not looking at her. She wasn’t what I was talking about when I said it’s not so bad loving someone.”
He caught the edge in Ingrid’s tone. For an instant Erik remembered asking Ingrid to the prom while they were in high school. She’d said no, telling him he was like a brother to her, and although it had smarted for a moment, he agreed with her and turned his romantic eyes to another pretty girl. He’d been hopeful then, a different person, who had still believed in true love and forever and all sorts of wishful nonsense, like husbands who stood by their wives to the bitter end, even when the end was unbelievably heartbreaking. Things had changed. He knew better now. True love only existed in books and movies and if you didn’t want your heart broken, you needed to keep a clear head on your shoulders.