by Harloe Rae
Lee: Not super great. Is it weird that I miss lying on our cavern floor?
Me: I feel the same way.
There’s so much more that I want to add. Civilian life sucks donkey dick without her. My loft is pitiful. I can’t leave. The hours drag by without change. I’m merely existing in a stale standstill. There’s no sense of weakness in admitting that I’m bored. Sad. Lonely. The wind rattling against a nearby window is my only company. My fingers are hovering over the keys to reply when the device begins to ring. I swipe to answer, a grin already chasing the empty sorrow from my chest.
“Well, hello.” I’m sure the gravel in my voice travels across the line. Even after covering the grit with a cough, there’s no hiding the cobwebs from more disuse than normal.
The soft purr Blakely gives in return soothes my rough edges. “I figured calling would be more efficient.”
“Listening to you is always my preference.”
She sighs, and the sound twists around the most sensitive parts of me. “I’m hoping we can erase this unnecessary divider between us. It would be much better talking to you in person.”
A familiar stab punctures my gut. She mentions something similar during each of our conversations. “I want that so fucking bad, sweetheart.”
“It’s only been two days, and I’m already going batty without you.”
I catch myself nodding along with her words. “That’s what I’m dealing with, too. Not sure how long I’ll last, Lee.”
“They can’t hold you hostage forever. I’ll send you a little care package in the meantime.”
“What’re you gonna include?”
Blakely hums, and I can picture her squinting into the distance. “Well, the contents are meant to be a surprise. Maybe some baked goods with a crowbar mixed in. Or is a screwdriver more useful? I can find stuff that reminds me of our wilderness.”
A groan falls off my lips. “That sounds damn good. I’ll be ready and waiting to receive whatever you give me.”
“Too bad I can’t drop in some hugs and kisses. Those would keep you warm.”
A chill bites at the back of my neck, regardless of the thermostat being set at sixty-seven. “Your heat is all I need.”
“If only that was true, then we wouldn’t have left the woods. Can you imagine being caught in another blizzard?”
“With your ass pressing against my dick? It’s hard for me to think of much else when we’re apart.” We haven’t resorted to phone sex, but I’m seconds away from suggesting it. All I need is a spark to get the fire roaring in my veins. I adjust the bulge preparing to set up camp in my jeans.
She chatters her teeth. “I bet it’s about to get really cold in the Northwestern Territories. We’d have to cuddle so close. Think of how buried Skipper must be.”
And there goes my semi. I grind my molars to trap a petulant bellow. “That damn canoe deserves a proper retirement, but someone else will scoop him up.”
Her breath hitches. “You think so?”
I chuckle at her fond attachment to that hunk of rust. “Nah, but maybe we’ll go back and visit.”
“That no longer frightens me. I’d pack a bag right now if they’d let you leave.”
I plop onto the saggy couch with a whoosh. “Are you home?”
“Safe and sound. How about you?”
“Under lock and key.”
“That’s really lame, boss. I don’t understand the point. For how long?”
“Good question. I’m hoping for more answers today.” I scratch at the beard covering half of my face. It’s one souvenir I haven’t washed away. Whenever I consider shaving, the reminder of her nails raking across my scruff stops me.
Blakely huffs, sending a crackle of static into my ear. “I have to meet with that detective again. He was busy leaving me another message before my coffee was done brewing.”
“I’m so damn sorry you gotta deal with that hassle, sweetheart.” The guilt has been threatening to buckle my knees on countless occasions.
“Not your fault, Halder. Just like how I was captured to begin with. The blame game isn’t yours to play.”
“Still feel responsible,” I mutter. Those fucking assholes better be rotting in a cell as we speak.
A knock on the door slices into my unwavering focus. I glare at the sound, flipping through possible suspects for this interruption. Another rap of knuckles calls out while I remain silent.
“Halder? Did you hear me?” Blakely’s sweet voice doesn’t belong with the tension now clogging this space.
“Hey, sweetheart? Let me call you back. Someone’s here.”
“Is everything okay?” I hate the tinge of worry in her tone.
“Yeah, Lee. It’s all good. Probably just my favorite detective.”
“If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’ll come searching for answers.”
“I have no doubt. You’d be the one to start a search and rescue.”
She giggles. “Um, duh. This guy in the wilderness taught me well.”
“Damn straight I did.” I force a harsh exhale, draining some of the strain pulling at my taut form. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Okay, boss. If it’s Detective Wyllis, tell him he better not be late for our meeting. I won’t sit around waiting for him.”
I stand and turn to the pitiful excuse for a foyer. “Yeah, okay. I’ll give him hell if he does.”
After a few more reassurances, Blakely hangs up. I slide the phone into my pocket while edging toward the door. Each step I take is heavy with warning, yet soundless in execution. For all I know, a bomb could be planted in the hallway. My damn hands are clammy from the vision, metaphorical or not. An unexpected visitor is cause for alarm as of late. The one time I let my guard down, forgot to be aware of who lurks in the shadows, is when that punk got the best of me. That’s a mistake I won’t make twice. Fool me once and all that. But the consequences weren’t all bad. Little did they know that delivering me to Blakely would strengthen my resolve to survive. That’s the sort of luck that isn’t meant for the likes of me. She’s the sort of surprise I’d accept a drug-induced unconsciousness for.
A glance in the peephole shows Paul’s smiling face. The pressure in my stomach deflates with a hiss. Not much of a threat, but still abnormal. My lawyer is the type to call first. He holds up two travel cups for me to see.
“I have a peace offering to take the edge off,” he calls through the barrier between us.
“Are you alone?”
His snort echoes against the door. “Would you prefer I brought back up?”
The question is either rhetorical or a waste of breath. “Only if you wanna stay in the hall.”
“Quit being a dick. I figured you could use some companionship.”
“That I gotta pay for?”
“You make me sound like a hooker.”
“If the loafer fits,” I grumble.
“I might be here to help, but don’t expect any sexual favors. The fuzz can’t deny me access to provide legal advice and representation. Think of this as a professional bonding session. A conjugal visit with your honey is off the table. For now,” he placates.
“All right, I guess you pass.” I unlock the deadbolt and remove the security chain.
“You’re hunkered down tighter than Fort Knox.” Paul chuckles while striding into my living room.
“Pretty sure a little paranoia is warranted. Not that staying in is my problem. Or choice, for that matter.”
He passes me a coffee before sitting on the sofa. “I’ll be quick to admit you’re getting a raw deal. Let’s try to remain positive and assume the restrictions will be lifted soon.”
I lower myself to the empty spot beside him. “How long am I gonna be forced to stay in seclusion?”
His hand smooths over the ragged armrest. “Until the cops feel secure enough to let you roam free?”
“Because I’m a danger to society or the threats against me?”
“A little of both?” The uncertainty he�
��s spewing at me is beginning to claw at my skin.
I curl my hands into trembling fists. “I’d never hurt anyone. Violence isn’t my game, man. Assault isn’t why I was locked up.”
“Don’t shoot the messenger.” I pin him with a scowl, and he has the decency to flinch. “All right, that was a poorly timed phrase.”
I take a sip of coffee. “Any updates?”
Paul tosses me a wolfish grin. “I’ve heard through the grapevine that Stefano is losing his shit. All that power melting away must hurt a man’s pride.”
Hearing that should get some sort of reaction from me. A few months ago, I would’ve been out of my seat and pumping a fist into the air. Now? My pulse barely rises. “About damn time someone ruffled his feathers. He’s been coasting under the radar like a fucking king.”
“And he’s finding that being a caged rat doesn’t have the same appeal.”
“Isn’t he out on bail until his trial is complete? His entire operation, too?”
“Eh, most of them couldn’t come up with that amount of cash. Stefano might not be behind bars, but his leash is damn short.”
“So, what? I have to be under house arrest for my own good until he’s proven guilty?”
“They’re fairly confident that Stefano isn’t stupid enough to attack you again. Not with an entire police force watching his every move. It shouldn’t be much longer until they clear you.”
I hate the ugliness mere thoughts of that man dredge up. “Give it to me straight. How much longer, Paul?”
“Just sit tight and be patient.” He grips my shoulder, giving me a shake.
I shrug him off. “You’re less helpful than Detective Wyllis. At least he brings me donuts.”
He rewards that comment with a smack to my chest. “Fucker. I take offense to your snarky attitude.”
“If you’d bring me a beer, I might be more pleasant.”
“Buy your own booze,” he gripes. “I’m only required to provide advice in your case.”
“Am I allowed to leave long enough for a liquor run?” No lie, chugging several cold ones is sure to put me at ease.
“I’ll look into it for you. Leaving you dry and not high isn’t good for morale.”
I feel my features smooth into a flat mask. “Your empathy deserves an award.”
“That’s why you pay me the big bucks.” Paul claps and relaxes into the work cushions. “While we’re on the subject of my financial stability, let’s discuss your mental wellbeing. Is your mind settled? Does this situation feel complete?”
There’s no smoke billowing underneath the surface, but the snap comes all the same. “Will it ever? They’re responsible for stealing five years of my life. Not sure that’s something I’ll ever move past. But what are my choices? Stew in misery while plotting their demise? Waste more of my time obsessing over the retribution I’m owed? Turn back the clock so none of this happened? It’s all a dead end that I’m better off trying to swerve beyond. I’m not sure what type of revenge I would be capable of delivering. Rotting in prison is about the worst consequence. The end result would be the same, regardless of who’s responsible. This is just far less gratifying.”
“Will you be able to move on and get past the betrayal?”
I give that question a moment to digest. The more we discuss this, and that’s all we’ve been doing since I landed back at this apartment, the less it seems to matter. Maybe it’s acceptance or adjusting to this new normal. Or maybe I’ve found greater meaning. Brilliant baby blues and glossy hair cascading in dark waves appear like a blessing from above. Stefano is no longer a concern, and it’s time for me to move on. Hell, I already have. If only the authorities would get the memo.
With a shrug, I finish off my coffee. “Honestly? It seems like I already am.”
Paul squints at me. “Have they been sneaking a shrink in here without me realizing?”
“Nah, man. Just me seeing the light.”
“Healing comes in all shapes. Whatever it takes, Rane. Have you talked to anyone besides Blakely and me? Willingly, I might add.”
“Spoke to my mom yesterday.” I scrub over my mouth to hide a grimace.
His eyes widen on mine. “No shit?”
“Yeah. She actually answered.”
“Are you surprised?” Amusement colors his tone.
A sharp ache spreads through my chest. I press a hand over the source of the initial pinch. “She’s not my biggest fan. My dad is worse. Long damn story.”
“Guess that explains why they never visited Streebston.”
“Right.” My chuckle lacks any trace of humor. “Seeing them within those walls would be the shock of the century.”
“Well, damn. Were they at least happy to hear from you?”
I teeter a palm back and forth. “Indifferent is more accurate. They’re glad I’m alive, but that was the extent of their well wishes. Our conversation didn’t last more than two minutes.”
A cringe collapses his expression. “Shit, that blows. And it’s not like you can visit them to calm the tide.”
Not that I would. There is only one place I want to be. I wave him off. “I’m used to the backlash. No skin off my back.”
“Now that the Stefano trash has been taken out, you can focus on repairing that bridge.”
“We’ll see about that. There’s no rush on my end. I have my priorities narrowed in on a certain someone who’s far more encouraging.”
Paul claps me on the back, adding a laugh for extra enthusiasm. “And you always have.”
“Glad that’s obvious. Let’s focus on busting me out of this joint, yeah?”
“What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Distracting me from breaking free,” I grumble.
“Man of such little faith.” His brows bounce to a suspicious beat. “I’m the damn calvary.”
Survival tip #28: Find a reason to move forward, even when heading backward is easier.
What’s an accidental experiment I recently solved? Two weeks apart from Halder feels like two months. It probably doesn’t help that eyes rarely stray from the clock. This wasn’t some worthless waste of time I set out to prove. It doesn’t seem like a choice at all as I wait for this forced separation to end. My composure is stretching thinner by the minute. The spacious layout of my apartment has become suffocating. I’m not capable of being tested to this magnitude.
My final hours in the wilderness are what I’m clinging to. The local authorities are on a power trip and still haven’t granted me a visit with Halder. They’ve been keeping him under high surveillance until the smoke from our disappearance blows over. Depending on who you talk to, he’s either a flight risk or a potential victim of retribution. It’s a bunch of bullshit if you ask me. It’s not like he’s responsible for abducting himself, or me for that matter. His speculation of why Stefano took me turned out to be accurate. The men who were assigned to dispose of us told the police every detail. A shudder worms through me just replaying the key highlights. At least I’ve had plenty of time to get over the initial sting. That doesn’t seem to be helping Halder’s case, though. The hoops that our justice system is forcing him through are higher than a circus performance.
I thump my head against the back of the couch. A deep inhale fills me with a fake sense of being in the woods. Artificial pine and campfire wafts through the air from my recent candle purchase. The scent is a poor substitute for the real thing. I had to at least try. Nothing else has done the deed of distracting me. These hours are dragging like frozen molasses. I don’t have the grind of my job to occupy me, either. My boss granted me a leave of absence, but I’m considering changing fields. Working with kids holds some appeal, but there’s time before I need to make a decision. It seems I have plenty of that to spare.
So, what’s on my daily agenda? A whole lot of waiting for restrictions to be lifted. I’ve already told the police everything they needed to hear. That wasn’t enough to exonerate Halder. My only saving grace from going stir crazy
is that he’s able to communicate with me. Those messages and calls are no longer satisfying the most surface level cravings, though. Every inch of me is crawling with the need for just one glance. The selfies he sends aren’t cutting the mustard.
As if hearing my desperation rising inside of me, my phone chimes with a notification.
SBM: Hey, sweetheart. How’s your afternoon?
Shitty mood or not, his nickname makes me smile. Maybe I’ll get to reveal the meaning to him soon. Halder will probably think it’s silly. Not that he’d ever tell me that. For now, it’s an inside joke only I can giggle about. I tap across the screen with warmth spreading through me.
Me: Same old thing. Nothing interesting to report other than my latest batch of pumpkin spice muffins are delicious.
SBM: You’re such a tease.
Me: And you enjoy it.
SBM: Very much.
Me: I’ll send you another care package.
SBM: No sweeter words, Lee. How was the doctor?
His question has me wrinkling my nose. The reminder isn’t a pleasant one. I’ve been spending too many mornings being whisked from one appointment to the next. The poking and prodding are supposed to be for my own good, to be sure I’m not damaged or suffering long-term effects. I could’ve avoided several of the exams and sessions, but appeasing my mother’s insistence was worth a few extra visits. She’s nearly returned to her previous level of high maintenance normality. Another week of this stifling routine should do the trick.
Me: It was fine. Not worth rehashing.
A moment of silence leads me to believe he’s been caught up in something else. What I wouldn’t give to be there. I’d gladly offer a pillar of support or let him bend my ear, among other things. How much longer can this delay go on? Another chime signals Halder’s response.
SBM: Do you have plans later?
Me: My sister wants to take me out. There’s some cover band playing at her favorite bar. How about you?
SBM: There’s been talk of dropping this house arrest crap.