by Wendy Smith
The air’s had that heaviness about it all day, and the smell of rain has been hanging around for hours. But I was beginning to think it would clear.
The sun set about an hour ago, and it’s time for me to head home.
Working away from here, I tend to neglect my own back yard. And I love just walking through the bush, seeing what’s appeared since I last looked. I wouldn’t have things any other way.
I hear her before I see her—the quickened breathing, the gasps that come as the rain hits. They give her away.
One of the reasons I’m so good at what I do is that I have such a keen sense of hearing. She’s near the little hideout the cops put on my property, but I catch them unawares every time I come out here. She could walk right next to them and they’d miss her.
Not me.
Enough moonlight peeps through the trees for me to see her. She’s standing beside the fence, looking around.
From the look of that long, grey, drab dress, she’s from next door. And from her position along the fence, she’s come through the gap the police made to give their guys an easy escape route.
She shivers.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
A clap of thunder sounds overhead, and she jumps, placing her hand over her heart as if calming herself.
“I don’t know.” She gasps again. The rain is so cold, and if I wasn’t wearing a heavy jacket, I’d be doing the same thing.
“Let’s get you out of the rain. You must be freezing.” I slip out of my jacket, and wrap it around her.
She fixes her gaze on me. “Thank you.” She speaks so quietly, I barely hear her. I need to get her in the house so I can make sure she’s really okay.
“This way.” I set off, turning after a few steps.
She hasn’t moved.
“Come on.” I beckon her forward, but she just stares.
“I don’t … I don’t know you.”
“Does that matter right now?”
Another clap of thunder sounds, and I walk back to take hold of her hand to try and pull her toward the house. She curls her fingers before I can grab her hand, presumably to stop me.
“We need to get inside. Come on.”
Her eyes widen. “You want me to go inside your house with you?”
“It’s better than being struck by lightning.”
She scrunches up her nose. “The odds of that are astronomical.”
I huff. “Look. They might be a million to one, but—”
“About two hundred and eighty thousand to one, actually.”
Is she for real?
Shrugging, I laugh. “What’s a few hundred thousand between friends?”
I take a deep breath. “I’m assuming that you came through that fence for a reason, and I don’t see you going back. You’re safe now, and I don’t know about you, but I’m over being out in this rain.”
She takes a tentative step forward. If we move this slowly, we might reach my house by morning.
“Oh, screw it.”
She shrieks as I grab her by the legs, throwing her over my shoulder.
“Put me down!”
“If you won’t walk, I’ll carry you.”
She hammers on my back with her fists, and I roll my eyes.
“Put me down,” she says again.
“I will when we’re out of this rain.”
My long strides make short work of the walk. The rain lashes the trees, but I know the path well enough to keep some shelter above us.
Reaching the back deck, I walk up the steps and to the back door. She stops wriggling as I turn the handle, and push, stepping into the kitchen.
She glares at me as I drop her to her feet, and her hands go straight to her hips. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“If I wanted to get inside tonight, I did. I wasn’t about to leave you there.”
“I’m fine.”
I sigh. “You came through that fence in the pouring rain, and then just stood there. Where were you going? This is the only place you’ll get shelter for miles unless you want to go back.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not going back.”
I run my gaze over her. She’s soaked and must be frozen to the bone. It’s autumn and while the days are still pretty warm, the nights are cold.
Her dress drips on the floor, leaving a puddle where she’s standing.
“I’ll light the fire. You can have a shower and warm up. We just need to get you out of those wet clothes.”
Her grey eyes widen, and I give her what I hope is a kind smile.
“I’ll find you something to wear in the meantime. That dress is soaked, and you’ll end up with pneumonia or something.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She straightens up, and I take a good, long look at her.
Her hair is the colour of honey, tied up into a neat bun. Her eyes are the colour of her dress, and despite her shivering, there’s a sense of pride coming off her. She doesn’t like that I’ve brought her here.
“Don’t be stupid. You need to get dry. I’ll throw that dress of yours in the dryer, or you can dry it in front of the fire, but it’s too wet for you to stay in.”
Her chest rises and falls as her indignation fills the room. “Do you have any suitable clothes for me to wear?”
I shrug. “I don’t have any women’s clothing, if that’s what you’re asking. But I do have shirts that’ll be more like a dress on you.”
Indecision crosses her face. For all she knows, she could have leapt from the frying pan into the fire. “Look. If you were trying to get away from Ash, you’re safe.”
Her eyes grow wide. “You know Ash?”
“Unfortunately.”
Her shoulders slump, and tears form in her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispers.
“It’s no problem. Let’s get you changed and then we can settle in for the night. The weather’s only going to get worse out there.”
A clap of thunder overhead leaves us both looking toward the ceiling. I’m the one who looks back down first. She’s quite tall, probably at least five-foot nine, and she has the most incredibly graceful neck. I can’t help but look. I’m a bit of a neck man.
No. You can’t do that. Not with her.
Her gaze drops back to meet mine. “I couldn’t wait.”
“I understand.”
“No. You really don’t.”
I nod. “I guess I don’t. I’ll go and find some shirts and you can pick one. Take off your shoes and leave them by the door. Bathroom’s through to the living room and up the hallway. First on the left.”
“Thank you.”
I lick my lips. “I mean it when I say you’re safe here. If Ash ever came onto my property, he’d be biting off more than he could chew.”
Her expression becomes a mix of relief and fear. It’s like she’s not sure which to feel.
Turning, I get halfway up the hallway before I realise I don’t even know her name. Does it matter right now?
I pull open my drawers and pull out a few shirts. There are a couple of button-down flannel shirts I usually wear when I’m hunting. They’re soft and warm, and she might be tall, but these will probably be down to her knees.
I also grab a couple of T-shirts. They’ll be a similar length, and the flannel’s probably better, but at least this way she has a choice. I need to make sure she’s comfortable while I work out what to do with her.
The bathroom door’s open, and she’s standing in the centre of the room, looking around. When I built the house, the one thing I wanted was a decent bathroom. There’s nothing better after a few days of sleeping rough than to have a hot bath. The tub is huge. So is the shower.
“Here you go. Hopefully there’s something there that suits for the night. Have a shower if you want. There’s plenty of hot water. The towels are in the cupboard, and I’ll grab your dress when you’ve finished and dry it.”
She licks her lips. “It needs a wash first. I’ll take care of it.”
I look down when she raises a foo
t. The hem of her skirt is caked with mud.
I nod. “That’s fine. I can throw it in the washing machine. I’ll leave you to it.”
With a stiff nod, she turns away. I take that as my cue to leave, closing the door behind me.
It won’t take long for the fire to heat the room—it never does. When this place was built, I made sure it had all of the creature comforts, given how isolated it is. It’s fully insulated, and cosy in the winter when the fire’s lit.
I’m lost in thought as I stare into the flames. Who is she, and why did she run? What could Ash have done for her to be so desperate to leave that she was out there in the rain?
As much as I want to know the answers, she needs to feel comfortable sharing them with me first. I’m not about to interrogate her.
“I didn’t know where to put my dress, so it’s hung over the towel rail.”
Turning at the sound of her voice, I’m greeted by the sight of this very attractive woman dressed in my shirt. She’s chosen one of the flannel ones. It’s soft and long, and it comes to around halfway down her thighs. Without thinking about it, my eyebrows creep up. “I’ll grab it in a minute and put it in the washing machine.”
She nods. “Thank you.”
“Come over here and get warm.” I point to the big chair near the fireplace.
She lets out a little sigh as she sits. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m Corey, by the way.”
I’m rewarded with a smile. “Constance.”
“That’s uhh, kind of an old-fashioned name.”
One of her eyebrows creeps up. “My parents are pretty old-fashioned.”
“Nothing to do with you coming from some weirdo cult?” I chuckle.
The smile disappears.
“Sorry. That wasn’t very nice.”
She shrugs. “It probably seems that way since Ash took over.”
“To be honest, it was pretty weird before that happened too. But that fence doesn’t help, and he hurt someone close to me a while ago. So, I’m not an Ash fan.”
She lets out a sigh. ”Believe me, neither am I. Most of the people there are good, but not him.”
“Are you hurt? Injured?” I ask.
Shaking her head, she gives me a tight smile. “I’m fine, thanks to you.”
“I’m sorry for carrying you in. It was very caveman-ish of me.”
“Is caveman-ish a word?” She laughs.
“It is now.”
Her grey eyes show her amusement. It’s better than the hands-on-hips annoyed woman from earlier.
“Are you hungry? I need to make myself something to eat, and a big cup of coffee.”
“Coffee sounds good.”
“I hope you don’t mind not having milk and sugar. I’m out.”
She nods. “I usually take them, but I’m fine. The coffee will warm me up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
By the time I return with her coffee, she’s lying across the chair, her head on the arm. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing’s slow. I have a vague idea of where the buildings are next door from before the fence went up, and it’s a decent hike for her. I don’t know how far she had to run, and by the looks of her dress and boots, she had to walk in the mud. It would have been a long journey just to reach my place, and she must be exhausted.
For a moment, I watch her sleep. I don’t know her, but I want desperately to protect her. Maybe it’s because I’m still so frustrated over the crap Ash tried to pull on Hayley. Since the day that cop turned up on my doorstep with her drugged out of her brain, I’ve been so angry.
I’ve been told patience is a virtue, but I’m all out of patience.
There’s no way Ash is getting near Constance again.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe.
Picking up a blanket from the back of the couch, I drape it over her. She’ll be warm out here as the fire dies down, and I can move her into the spare room tomorrow if she needs to stay.
And she can stay as long as she needs.
I won’t let Ash get hold of her.
5
Constance
I raise my hand to my neck and groan.
I’ve obviously slept with my head on a funny angle. When I raise my head, my neck cramps, and I …
Wait.
The blur of last night comes back to me in a rush. Running, my feet sticking in the mud, the rain drenching me.
And that man.
It’s early. There’s a morning chill in the air, and I pull the blanket tight around me. I’m in a big chair near a fireplace that’s long since burned out.
Relief floods through me. I got away.
I train my gaze around the room. There’s a dining table in one corner, and the kitchen is on the other side of the benchtop next to the table. A large leather couch faces the biggest television I’ve ever seen. Not that that’d be hard.
Ash had all the fancy things in the main house. My parents’ needs were basic. I spent so much time with my nose buried in books while growing up, only seeing the odd movie when spending time with other children.
I blush at the memory of what happened last night and look down at my attire. I’m dressed in a long, checked flannel shirt. It’s soft and warm but knowing it’s Corey’s brings a warmth to my cheeks.
Corey. That is his name.
“Good morning.”
I look up to see him walking toward me.
The man’s beautiful. There’s no other way for me to describe him. He’s tall, at least six-foot six, and solidly built. His eyes are dark and warm, and even with his thick beard, there’s no hiding how genuine his smile is.
“Morning.”
“I hope you were comfortable last night. When you fell asleep, I didn’t want to move you. Is there anyone you need to call? I can take you wherever you need to go.”
I swallow hard, shaking my head. “No one. I was told there would be someone on the other side of the fence who could help me.”
His eyebrows rise. “No one was waiting. If I hadn’t been out there …”
“I’m glad you were. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”
He smiles. “Well, if you need to stay here for a while, there’s a spare room you can use. I’m around a lot of the time. I don’t have a regular job, and I work at night here and there.”
His kindness makes me want to cry. “I’d appreciate having somewhere to stay. Until I work out what to do next. It seems things weren’t as planned as I thought they were.”
Corey nods. “Of course. Stay as long as you need.”
“Thanks.”
“Want some breakfast?”
My stomach grumbles as if on cue.
His lips twist. “I’ll take that as a yes. Toast? Or do you want a cooked breakfast?”
“Whatever you’re making. And coffee. I think you were making one last night when I fell asleep.”
He laughs. “You were out like a light. I came back to find you passed out in the chair.”
I rub my neck and yawn. “I can’t even remember falling asleep.”
“I went to make coffee and you were asleep by the time I got back. You must have been exhausted.”
I pinch my forehead. “I was. I just had to get out of there.”
He nods. “I figured, given the weather. Like I said, take as long as you need. It’ll be good to have some company for a while.”
As he walks toward the kitchen, I stretch and take in more of my surroundings. There’s a large bookcase by the dining table, and I smile at the sight of its full shelves. When I was a child, I read everything I could get my hands on. But the supply of books dried up over the years.
“Help yourself to anything you need,” Corey calls.
I make my way to the bookcase, running my finger across the spines of the books.
“There are more books in the spare room where you’ll be sleeping.”
“Really? I think I could get lost for weeks in these.�
�
He chuckles. “There are some boxes in the garage, too. I got as far as putting up the two bookcases and then ran out of steam.”
“I think I died and went to heaven.”
The smell of bacon fills the air, and I take a deep breath. “That smells so good.”
“Hope you’re hungry. There’s plenty of food.”
“Starved. I felt like I was walking forever last night.”
He turns to look at me and nods. “I bet. Breakfast’s ready. Want it in the living room, or up at the table?”
“I can sit at the table.” I smile.
He nods. “I’ll have this done in a minute. I’m pretty hopeless when it comes to groceries, but you caught me at a good time.”
“Thank you.”
He smiles. “You’re welcome.”
My heart skips as I sit at the table. Last night was awful, but I seem to have landed on my feet.
Corey places a plate in front of me full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. My stomach grumbles at the sight of it.
“I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday,” I say. “I was a bit wound up last night.”
He looks up from the bench he’s returned to. “I’m sure it was all a bit crazy.”
You don’t know the half of it.
“Pretty crazy.”
Corey nods toward my plate. “Don’t wait for me. Dig in. I’ll just make this coffee and I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.”
I close my eyes at the first bite. This is so relaxing, and I feel a little guilty that I’m not doing more to help.
“Good?”
“Amazing.”
He grins as he sits down, sliding a cup of coffee in front of me. I take a sip.
“Also amazing.” I place it back down and pick up my knife and fork.
Corey cuts a piece of toast and piles scrambled eggs on it. “So, tell me about where you came from.”
I shrug. “I think you probably know a lot of it. We live mostly off the land and keep to ourselves. Although it’s become increasingly isolated the past few years.”
He nods. “Since the fence went up.”
“I still don’t know how Ash talked people into that. It scared the hell out of me.”
“Why didn’t you leave, then?”
I meet his curious stare. “My parents. They can’t leave.”