by Alicia Wild
She was drifting again, feeling something cool press against her forehead.
“You’re safe here.”
“Are you sure?” her fingers tugged on fabric, blanket or shirt, she couldn’t tell.
“Yes, I’m sure. You’re safe… I promise.”
Tears clung to her lashes, making her vision fracture and the pounding of her head intensify.
“I don’t—I don’t even know…your name…”
“It’s Barrett.”
Barrett… she felt it in her mouth like she felt the warm drink and it brought her peace. Barrett.
“Sleep, Melissa.”
“Stay…” She whimpered, already feeling her mind drift away deeper and deeper into darkness.
“Stay with me…”
“I’ll stay.” And she felt something press against her lips, the touch of fingers or another taste of drink, she didn’t know. Melissa exhaled and remembered nothing else.
Chapter 5
A clammy sweat stuck into her skin and made her shiver with disgust the following day. It had been early evening when she first came to, feeling light and better than she had before. Her mind no longer spun and her chest even felt clear of aches and pains.
Her body still felt droopy with fatigue but she would rather be able to sit up straight and woozy than in the delirium her mind was caged within.
When she pushed the blanket off, Melissa sought out signs of life and felt some respite when she noticed the flames in the fireplace looked fresh and alive. The crackle and pop of fire chewing on wood was calming and allowed her to settle easily in the cushions.
Something pleasant wafted through the cabin, sparking her mouth to water and her stomach to growl. Pushing her sweat sticky blankets off, Melissa finally stood and moved slowly toward the kitchen.
The smell became more familiar the closer she moved toward the kitchen, reminding her of chicken soup and warm potatoes. When she peered into the cooking space, she found her savior easily.
His broad body nearly encompassed the whole area of the stove and sink. Something bubbled and steamed on the stove as he rummaged through a cupboard for seasoning.
Melissa blinked, watching him with amazement as he moved comfortably through the space. It was almost easy to forget he was a soldier with an entire armory in his living room.
Eventually, he noticed her presence and when he faced her it was with a genuine look of concern.
“’Morning,” He said.
Melissa offered him a half smile, almost too tired to speak.
“Hello,” she mumbled, lifting a groggy hand to wipe at the sweat on her brow.
“How long have I been out?”
“Nearly two whole days.”
The answer made her balk, her hand suspended over her face in shock.
“I—what?”
He nodded at her, leaning back to shift his hips against the edge of the counter.
“You caught a really bad virus. My guess is the entire ordeal you went through. You kept having nightmares.”
“Oh,” she mumbled, dropping her hand to fidget with her mother’s ring.
She felt her stomach fall to her feet when she found it missing. Melissa turned frantic, hands searching everywhere over her stiff clothes to find the missing band.
“Take it easy,” Barrett said, earning her attention.
He reached into his pocket before pulling out the silver chain; silver and green ring swinging gently beneath his fingers.
“I got it off you to make sure you didn’t choke while you slept.”
Melissa took several steps closer, reaching out desperately to feel the cool silver back into her hands.
To her surprise, he pulled away, looking down at her with interested blue eyes. “Before I give this back, I need to know something.”
Nervousness burned in Mel’s stomach, making her hesitate as he stared her down.
“You said ‘he killed her’ in your sleep. Her being your mother. What’s going on, Melissa?”
She stiffened beneath his inquiry, feeling her teeth catch her lower lip tightly.
Barrett glanced down before looking back up, eyebrows furrowing as he read her expression.
She squirmed beneath his stare, looking away. “My step-father…” She supplied suddenly.
“He married my mom when I was seven… he abused her for years, abused us both. She died of disease, not long after I turned seventeen. We had been planning to escape him, to disappear. And then she died…” Melissa chanced a glance into Barrett’s silent expression.
“She wasn’t supposed to have died. She was strong… stronger than anyone. But then one day, she started coughing up blood, and I started noticing that her food wasn’t normal. He’s powerful… he made it so that everyone believed she died of some sickness. But I knew… he threatened to kill me several times. He hurt the only person that gave me hope after her death. He’s powerful, but he’s a gambler. I know it because he’s had people come collect before, but this time…” Melissa looked away and sighed feeling exhausted once again.
“I heard them talk about selling me, using me to pay off a debt…I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to run… If he finds me, it doesn’t matter who wants me or how much debt he owes, he’ll kill me for escaping. I’ve lived with him for twenty years… I can’t do it again.”
A silence filled the space and Melissa worried that Barrett wouldn’t believe her, and it filled her with intense dread.
So many people insulted and ridiculed her, so many people insisted she was lying… what if he did the same?
He sighed and she felt something grip her palm.
Surprised, she looked up at him, feeling the chain and her mother’s ring find home within her grip.
Barrett looked down at her with a nod. “I’m sorry about your mother,” He said softly.
“You…you believe me?” Melissa breathed, head spinning. He gave her a nod.
“I might not have a few days ago…”
He admitted with a shrug, “but no one has such nightmares over a lie. Believe me, I know. You’re going to be safe. I’ll make sure to find you somewhere you’ll be safe.”
Melissa felt her heart swell up with gratitude and happiness, made her want to collapse and cry and thank the sky for whoever was watching.
Instead, she dropped her chin, let the tears fall from her eyes as she cradled her mother’s memento against her chest. She leaned forward, feeling her headrest against his chest.
Even though she heard him inhale sharply and stiffen beneath her, Melissa didn’t care.
She couldn’t hug him, she couldn’t do much else, but she wanted to show him how grateful he made her feel in that moment.
“Thank you, Barrett…” She heaved through a sob. “Thank you…”
She felt one of his hands land awkwardly over her shoulder, patting her gently with reassurance.
After a while, his hands held over her shoulders, thumbs caressing her softly but never going anywhere further.
Eventually, he pushed her away.
“Food’s almost ready,” he muttered under his breath and turning away before she could meet his gaze.
“Feel free to take a bath… dinner should be done by then.”
Melissa gave his turned back a watery smile before pivoting and walking out of the kitchen. She was grateful, and knew that she owed him her life.
With a small smile, Melissa wrapped her necklace around her neck, sighing when she felt her mother’s ring safe against her skin. It felt warm and she felt happy. Happier than she had felt in over twenty years.
--
The following few days showed a strange turn of Barrett’s temperament that both confused and irritated Melissa. He became colder, distant, and hardly looked at her as they lived side by side.
When Melissa woke, he was usually gone, and so she would clean and fix things until she was bored and had nothing else to do.
When he arrived late one evening, Melissa was in the middle of reading o
ne of his military books without much care.
He walked in, looking tired and even irate.
“Fun day?” She asked him.
“Peachy,” he grunted back and she watched him curiously as he stomped back toward the Armory (as she liked to call it) and begin to dispose his body of his weapons.
As always, watching him pull out a myriad of daggers and clothes left her in amazement.
Who knew so many weapons could be hidden on a single person?
“Would you like something to eat? I made—”
“No thanks. Goodnight,” he answered in a clipped tone and disappeared through the threshold and down the hall.
His footsteps were loud even while he was out of sight. Scowling, Melissa was tempted to follow him but figured it would be best to just leave him be.
She hoped he would lighten up, but every day seemed to get worse, each evening he’d reply shortly, until he suddenly just replied in grunts before disappearing.
“Did you sit on a cactus?” Melissa asked one evening, getting rather fed up with his attitude.
“What’s with you?”
“Nothing,” Barrett grumbled, walking passed her spot against the wall. Melissa followed him that time, widening her strides to try to catch up to his.
“Okay, seriously, what is going on?” She asked, watching his shoulders hitch into tense coils.
“You’ve been acting real weird these past few days? Did something happen?”
He didn’t answer her, reaching the bathroom and slamming the door open then closed against her.
Melissa nearly rammed her nose against the door, taking a step back as she was suddenly face to face with the wooden surface.
“Hey, can you please just talk to me?” She called against the door, knocking her knuckles against it.
“Is it really bad? You’re starting to worry me… Barrett?”
“Go away, Melissa.” She heard him huff from inside the bathroom.
“Could you at least tell me if something’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong. Go away.”
“Barrett,” Melissa groaned.
“I said, go away, alright?” He snapped.
Melissa recoiled from the door, affronted and feeling wounded. Biting down on her lip, she crossed her arms and shifted her weight over her feet.
Throwing up her hands in the air, Melissa conceded and stormed off to go clean something. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore.
A tense silence filled the space where they used to be able to pass in comfort.
Melissa watched the retreating figure of Barrett’s back with a saddened forlorn expression, feeling her chest tighten with dismay. Had she done something wrong? If so, what?
Two nights later, Melissa found herself approaching Barrett’s door.
She bit down on her anxiety before raising a trembling hand and gave the door a soft rap. “Barrett…?” She asked meekly.
She didn’t hear anything. “Are you awake?”
Nothing.
She let out a soft sigh, pressing her fingers against the cool wooden surface, “I don’t know why you’re acting this way… If it was because of something I did or said… I’m sorry. Please, forgive me…”
She pressed her forehead against the door, wishing that he could be hearing and thinking.
That she wasn’t the only one under faint moonlight hoping aimlessly.
“Barrett, if you really want me gone…” She began, feeling the thought of leaving choke her.
“Then… I can leave. I’ll go… just don’t hate me. You’re the only real friend I’ve had in over ten years.”
The doorknob suddenly began to turn and Melissa gasped, taking a few steps away in surprise.
When the door opened, her heart was in her throat and her eyes were wide. Barrett stood ahead, his head slightly bowed, in the light it was almost difficult to find his eyes, yet she knew they were fixed on her.
“I don’t hate you, Mel…”
He sighed and the nickname made her stomach flutter. “I’m sorry.”
Melissa nearly fell to the ground. What was going on? He wasn’t going to hit her? Shout at her to leave him alone?
“I’ve been having… trouble with some stuff,” He said honestly.
“I just think its better that you stay away from me… until I can find you a way out of here.”
“Why…?” She breathed, feeling her heart twist painfully and leave her swallowing thick anguish. “
What is going on? Did I do something?”
Barrett shook his head.
“Just trust me on this… For both our sakes. Just keep a distance from me.”
“Barrett, I—” He retreated suddenly.
“Goodnight, Melissa.”
When he closed the door, the sound made her heart tumble from her throat to her feet. When she returned to the couch, she settled in her blanket and found no peace in sleep.
What happened?
She stayed awake until the early hours of dawn, when her mind could no longer mull the subject over without hitting a dead end.
Chapter 6
He showed up late one evening beneath torrents of rain. For hours, since the rain began, Melissa would throw worried glances out the window before stubbornly shaking her head away from thoughts of Barrett.
When it was his usual time to return, nothing came and as the minutes ticked by, Melissa’s concern only grew steadily higher.
Her mind began to come up with ludicrous ideas, horrible scenarios that left her gnawing on her fingernails and pacing a trail on the rug.
The house was dark save a couple of candles she had found in a drawer in the kitchen. The rain was so bad that water was splashing through the small chimney; Melissa had no choice but to shut it close. She preferred being dry than wet and miserable.
Wrapped in her blanket, Melissa paced from the living room to the kitchen, to the bathroom, and back to the living room. Her anxiety made it impossible to sit still.
What if something had happened?
Barrett had never told her of what he does exactly, but she guesses it must be rather dangerous judging by how heavily armed he usually is.
Even when she’s asked he would throw her a flat look, as if saying, ‘there’s not a snow ball’s chance in hell, Melissa.’
Then her thoughts became paranoid.
What if her step-father had found out where she was? If he had found Barrett?
She knew Barrett could probably hold himself well in a fight, but that man had connections to darker parts of the world… For all she knew… he could be dead out there.
A sudden crack of thunder startled a shriek from Melissa’s mouth. She lunged towards the couch, peering through the window to see huge blobs of rain strike the glass in big splatters.
She waited and waited, biting back worried tears and letting her teeth rip at her fingertips while she fiddled with her mother’s ring.
The door slammed open an hour or so later. Melissa leaped from the couch, believing that she had been caught by that man and that her time of freedom was over. Her first thought was to reach for a weapon, to grab one of the machetes and plunge the blade into the intruder.
That thought clattered to the ground when she saw Barrett’s familiar figure swiftly push through the door and slam the door shut. The draft and chill of rain disappeared as quickly as it had come and Melissa drew out a shaky breath when she heard his footsteps approach.
“You’re alive,” she breathed, relieved beyond measure.
Her relief came to a halting stop when she saw him stagger. Suddenly, he collapsed to his knees and Melissa was calling out his name as she threw herself at him.
She caught him around the waist, shivering when she felt the icy water cling to his frame.
“Barrett, what’s wrong? What’s happened?”
She bombarded him with questions that he shook his head through.
“Nothing,” he replied, “Just a cut.”
She was about to ask w
here before he let out a strangled cry, she felt the warm heat against his shoulder and recoiled.
Beneath the candlelight, she could tell it wasn’t just water on her hands. “You’re wounded.” She exclaimed.
“Just a flesh wound,” he grunted. “I’m fine.”
Melissa wasn’t going to sit back and let him push her off.
With a firm hand, she pushed him down and he nearly toppled over flat. She felt one of his hands grip tight to her waist, squeezing a warning against her side.
“I need to see how bad it is.”
“Don’t bother,” he protested but Melissa was already pushing away to stoke the fire alive.
Even if it was for a short while, she needed the light. “Mel, I’m serious, it’s no big deal.”
“Ugh, will you just shut up for five seconds?” She hissed, feeling her hands shake even as she struggled to make a small spark with the flint.
Moments later, she managed to get a spark and stoked the flames to life, much more used to the action now. She stood and walked into the kitchen, finding towels, and the first aid kit under the sink.
When she returned, Barrett was removing his weapons and laying them on the ground, rivers of rainwater falling down his face.
“We need to take off your shirt,” she said as she settled beside him.
“I said I’m fine.”
“You won’t be if you don’t shut up and do as I say,” she snarled, feeling inwardly shocked at her own heated answer.
He looked up at her, surprised. She didn’t give him a moment to comment before her hands were reaching for the soaked fabric of his clothes and began to pull.
He hissed but said nothing, aiding her when sopping clothes were stripped from his skin. The firelight curved and glistened over the bulging muscles of his body and for a moment, Melissa nearly stopped to stare.
She was almost tempted to run her fingers over his abs until her eyes found a massive gash on his shoulder. It looked bad and kept bleeding.
“Pass me that towel,” Barrett said quietly.
Melissa did as she was told and focused on helping him press the cloth against the dribbling wound.
As he did that, she began to locate the bandages in the first aid kit, pulling out ointments and band-aids big enough to do the job. She followed his instructions carefully, pulling the towel away enough for him to see how bad it was.