by Emily Bishop
I weep over the fact that I’ll never be free from the fear as I tug on a pair of thick wool socks and my trendy little hiking boots. I sweep the cabin one last time to check if I may have dropped some items somewhere else, but I know I didn’t.
Someone has stolen my things. I have a few guesses as to who it may be, but either way, staying here is no longer an option.
My chest grows tight, and my breath is labored as I drag my suitcase to the front door and step over it. I glance around—the snow is bare of prints, scraped over with something large and flat. The trails are empty, and I set off to get to the main cabin. I can use the phone to call a car, and then I’ll be gone.
I’ll have to hire round-the-clock security and live in a bubble forever. That’s all.
Oh, and forget all about Lorn Hart.
Chapter Sixteen
Lorn
Women are my bane.
Every time I try and let one in, they find ways to prove to me how unworthy of me they are.
I sit at my kitchen table and steam as I fight to control my breathing. I confided in her something so personal, so shameful, and she reacted exactly how she shouldn’t have.
With judgment.
Does she think I’ve experienced no shaming in my life? Yeah, I’m rich. Big deal. I’ve been a target for ridicule my whole damn life. My father was my biggest bully. She knows nothing about me, and yet she cast the stone.
Because, obviously, Rayne Carr must be a total saint, right? Given her behavior, that’s not true. I know there’s a darkness behind her little façade. I hate that I want to know what it is. I hate that I want to know her and still be a part of her life, even after our fights.
There’s something deeper there. Her eyes are wide with fear more often than not, and when I press that button, she goes into a fit to try and push me away.
I don’t feel like going away quite yet. She may have bitched out massively now, but my instincts tell me there’s something behind her smokescreen. If she’s brought someone bad to my borders, that’s one thing, but if she gets hurt or worse because I was sitting in my cabin pouting over a fight, I’ll never forgive myself.
I still need answers. I can’t let my emotions get in the way of that simple fact. I release another breath and rise, our plates loaded with unfinished omelets on the table. Cleaning will have to wait. I’ve got some tracking to do.
I change into a pair of sturdy jeans and my green jacket. She stormed off in my boots, and I can’t help but laugh. She looked ridiculous, stomping out in my massive shoes and her nightie. Must have been a cold walk back. I reach for my second pair of boots and have a thought, then turn them over.
I memorized the pattern of that print in the snow, especially once Rayne went all haywire about it. It doesn’t match the treads of this boot.
Curious.
I slide my socked feet into them and tie them up before I step out into the frosty forest air. A single trail of boot prints heads off toward the trail straight ahead, and I follow them as I collect my thoughts. She clearly wants nothing to do with me. That’s fine by me, but until my property is protected, and my tenant is also safe, I have a responsibility here.
She can get rid of me when she leaves this land. And good riddance.
The trail leads where it should, to her cabin across the way. I stop in the woods and hang back. I don’t want to storm right up to the front door. That wouldn’t exactly be tactful. This is something to play carefully. I glance around me. Is there someone else peering at that door from another part of the woods?
I take stock of the ground around me, but I only see one pair of footprints—the ones from my own boots, dragged through the snow by a tiny woman in a silk nightgown.
If I wasn’t still so pissed at her, it would be really, really funny.
Rayne stomps over her busted front door. I remember how great it felt when it crumbled beneath my force.
Oops. Naw, just kidding. If I had to do it again, I would, though, exactly the same. No regrets here.
She’s dressed in suitable clothes, and I notice that she’s dragging her little suitcase behind her. I don’t see my boots she promised to leave on the front porch for me.
Typical.
Her eyes are glassy and red even from this distance. She storms down the porch steps and walks with long strides toward a path I’ve never shown her before.
My god, this woman has no sense of direction. How is it that she can grab a set of tools and rewire a generator, but she still can’t take the right path? I imagine she’s trying to head back in the direction of the main cabin to call for a ride home. She’s going to be disappointed when she doesn’t get there.
Sigh. It’s a good thing my instincts don’t suck. Once again, it falls to me to keep this woman safe. What did I do with my life before Rayne Carr walked into it?
I believe I sat and read a lot of books. It was a simpler, peaceful time. Thoughts of Rayne’s comments flood back into my mind. She thinks I should rejoin the world, face my critics and get back to the society I was born into. What, so they can treat me like she just did?
Fat chance.
She may think she has an idea, but she doesn’t. That life was a gilded cage, and the woods are my freedom. Why would I ever go back?
Rayne disappears down a snow-covered path, and I follow at a distance, not wanting to frighten her. Then again, I believe she thinks she’s being followed, so this might not help at all. Fortunately for me, I can be silent in the woods. Rayne won’t know I’m here until I’m ready for her to know.
I give her a wide berth. With the snow, it’s easy enough to see where she’s headed, and it is in no way the direction she thinks she’s going. The path reaches a fork. I’m lost in thought as I notice that her footprints have turned to the left, and my mind slowly comes to the realization that she has taken the seriously wrong path.
“No,” I breathe.
I pick up my pace and jog through the snow. I can see her back ahead in the distance, and I call out, “Rayne, wait!”
She turns back and glares at me, then steps backward. Her foot lands on open air, and she disappears from my sight with a scream.
“Rayne!”
I sprint over. This path ends at a cliff side that leads straight down toward the lake. When I reach the edge, I lean over, terrified of what I’ll see.
Rayne holds onto a thick branch sticking out from the cliff. She’s about two feet down, her eyes wide and terrified as she stares up at me.
“Help,” she breathes.
I reach down and grab her forearms. I tighten my grip and launch her back up and over the precipice. Her suitcase lies on the ground a few feet away, and my eyes bore into the black material as I cling to her, holding her tight against my body.
Rayne shivers, from fear, from cold. I can only guess, and I can’t seem to make myself let her go. I thought that I had lost her to that cliff, and my stomach dropped right with her. Now to hold her safe in my arms… well.
This kind of thing can’t happen again.
My fear spurs my anger right back into place and I stand, lifting us both up, then set her from me so I can get a good look at her.
Her green eyes are big as saucers, and she’s still trembling.
At the moment, I can’t care about that. I’m too damn mad.
“You could have gotten yourself killed, again. If you can’t navigate in the woods, you shouldn’t be here!”
My voice echoes down the cliff, and I’m reminded that she could have easily been a pancake at the bottom of it. That image fuels my anger even more. She feeds off my energy, and her eyes finally narrow, though her voice still shakes when she speaks.
“You’re right, I shouldn’t be here. I was trying to get to the main cabin to get away from this place.”
“I showed you where that trail was.”
“Yeah, well, I forgot. My mind was a little preoccupied over the fact that my cabin had been ransacked!”
My eyebrows lift at this little
piece of news. Ransacked? By whom?
She realizes her mistake too late. She tries to wave the comment off. “It doesn’t matter. You want me gone. I want to be gone. Let me go!”
“You had your cabin broken into and you expect me to simply let that go? Who do you think I am? Actually, scrap that. I know exactly who you think I am. Some kind of criminal. Here’s the thing about that, Rayne. I’ve been one hundred percent honest with you this entire time. You, on the other hand, have clearly been lying and hiding information from me, and now I hear that there’s a crime happening on my own property. This ends now. You have to tell me what you’re hiding from and why!”
“Why should I tell you anything? There’s a chance that you’re the one who did it! You spent time in jail. Who knows what kind of connections you have?”
Some pieces come together for me here. She’s upset about my time in jail, that much is obvious, but she also has opinions about criminals and their intents upon release.
“Rayne.” I intentionally soften my voice and take a step back. “I went to jail for a stupid thing. I have never spoken to anyone I spent time with in there since I left. I want to put that chapter of my life behind me, for good. I understand that you are afraid. I can see it. I am on your side here. Please, let me help you.”
Her emotions play out in a battle for control on her face. I can tell she wants to trust me, but she hasn’t let herself. I’m sure she has her reasons. I know I do, after all, but I don’t break eye contact with her as I wait for her to come to a conclusion.
“I can’t help you if you don’t let me in, Rayne. Tell me the truth. Let me be your ally here, not your enemy. It would appear you already have enough of those.”
Her eyes well up with tears as her inner battle continues. A sob sneaks from her as she collapses toward me, and I catch her in my arms and cradle her there. I let her cry out all her fear and despair and stress, not knowing how long she has had to carry this weight alone.
She tilts her head up to look at me, and I wipe away a hot tear gone cold beneath her eye. My palms encase her cheeks as I dip my head and capture her lips in a gentle, reassuring kiss. She returns the gesture, but it is far from erotic. It is a gesture of trust, of faith that I won’t hurt her in any way.
I can’t even fathom it. Just the thought of someone wanting to hurt her sends a wave of protectiveness through me, and I hold her closer. I keep the kiss gentle, and I push her back gently as I notice that she is no longer shaking.
That’s certainly a good sign.
“Tell me, Rayne. Tell me what it is that’s haunting you.”
She inhales, and when she releases the breath a puff of steam dissolves into the air.
“All right,” she says. “But it’s not a happy story.”
Chapter Seventeen
Rayne
Lorn’s warmth is so close, and I ache to throw myself back into the circle of his arms, to forget that any of this ever happened. I’m so ashamed for casting judgment on him. I’ve taken my own situation and applied it to all others, generalizing a man who has done nothing but try and help me since the moment we first met.
I’m an asshole. Pure and simple.
Lorn deserves the truth. He has earned that much.
“I was there when my father died, which I’ve told you. What I didn’t tell you was that I was a key witness in the trial of the man who murdered him, Larry Corker. That man made a silent promise to me eleven years ago that I would be his next victim. He was released from prison on good behavior a few weeks ago, and I have been afraid ever since that he will come to fulfill his promise.”
“What do you mean, a silent promise? Why didn’t you tell the authorities?”
I sigh. “It’s something I’ve had many years to think about. I believed at the time that he would be in jail for life, that he was taunting me as his final act of rebellion.”
Heavy silence stretches around us as Lorn takes that little tidbit in. He’s the first person I’ve ever told this to, besides Helen. After how heavily I’ve judged him, I don’t expect sympathy. I don’t deserve it.
“Why did he kill your father?” he asks.
I shift and realize that I twisted my ankle on my way down that cliff. I don’t want to give my injury away yet, so I stand perfectly still, even as my foot screams inside my boot.
“My father put his brother in jail for domestic assault, and Larry took offense. The man ended up killing himself in prison, and that seemed to set Corker off. He came for my father that day, and I got to be present to experience the entire confrontation.”
Lorn absorbs that information with a somber expression. He shifts a little closer, and I wonder if he’s going to hold me again. I so hope he does. Instead, his eyes darken as he looks into mine.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why couldn’t you share this with me, when you are clearly blameless?”
The tears well up in my eyes again, and I will them to stay back.
“I… I have been getting signs since Larry got out that I’m being stalked. My phone would ring, and there would be dead silence when I answered it. When I tried to track the calls, they all came from private, untraceable numbers. The tires on my car got slashed. There was an attempted robbery in one of the bakeries close to my home, one of the ones I frequent most often.”
Lorn crosses his arms and continues to listen. Now that I’m on a roll, I can’t seem to stop the words from pouring from my lips.
“I did go to the authorities with my suspicions. They said that as a public figure these events aren’t uncommon, and that Larry Corker has been an upstanding citizen since being released, that he isn’t even registered as living near me. When they checked on him, he was a hundred miles away. I don’t know how he managed to cover it up, but I know it was him.”
“How do you know?” Lorn asks.
“I do. None of this stuff started happening until he got out. Until then, I’d lived a comfortable life, doing as I pleased. I was met with the wall of fear that someday Corker would find a way to get to me. I didn’t know what to do, so I looked up as many remote resorts as I could, and that’s how I found yours.”
“You’re still not getting to the important part where you explain why you decided to keep all of this a secret time and time again.”
His tone is stern, his muscular arms still crossed. He does deserve answers, but I’m almost too ashamed to explain why I couldn’t tell him.
“At first, I didn’t want you to kick me out. A woman bringing a murderer and a stalker to your resort isn’t exactly desirable. I suppose on some level I was scared that you would judge me for my actions, or even abandon me to my own fears. It was far more likely that you would simply want me to be gone. The cops have already told me my concerns are unfounded. How could I expect you to believe me any more than they did?”
I stare up at him and wait for judgment. It’s all out in the open now. Lorn can decide to cast me from his property if he likes, and frankly, I wouldn’t blame him.
“Are you leaving now out of fear, or out of anger?” he asks.
It’s not the question I was planning for, and it takes me by surprise.
“I… I don’t know. Honestly, I think I’ve been pushing you away because of my fear, but when I saw that my property had been stolen, that was the last straw. Between that, the strange light you saw and the footprint in the snow, I’ve had enough.”
“That footprint wasn’t mine, by the way.” His words crash over me like a bucket of ice water.
“What?”
“They’re not mine. You, uh, borrowed, my other pair of boots, so when I put on the other pair, I checked. Those tracks are different from mine. I can check with my caretaker, but I doubt he would have had any reason to be on your property. He generally keeps to himself when he can.”
“So, you’re saying that… you believe me?” I ask.
“Yes, that is what I am saying. See how honesty works? I trust you, Rayne. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.�
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I nearly collapse with relief, and he catches me in his arms again. He holds me close, and I relish the warmth of his broad chest, his strong, sturdy heartbeat.
“So, you’re not going to kick me out?” I gaze up at him and try to read his expression. His face is all kindness and sympathy, and for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel alone.
What a feeling that is.
“No, I am not going to kick you out. You are safe here as long as you want to be, and that extends past the month you already paid for. If you don’t feel safe elsewhere, you can feel safe here. I can protect you, Rayne. You have to let me.”
A wave of relief washes over me as cold dots land on my upturned, smiling face. Little snowflakes flutter in the air around us as another storm comes in, the world silent once more.
“We should get back…” I say.
I don’t say where we should get back to. I’m hoping against hope that Lorn doesn’t expect me to stay alone in my cabin after what I’ve been through, but I don’t want to presume that he’ll let me stay with him either.
He nods. “Yes, we should. I want to check the perimeter around your cabin first, before the snow picks up and erases any tracks.”
My heart sinks at the thought of going back there, but he’s right. If he can track down any more information, I’ll have a better case to take to the cops about my own suspicions.
It’s more than I had to go on alone, in any case.
Lorn takes a few steps toward the trail, and when I don’t follow, he turns back with a curious lift of his brow. “You OK?”
“I, uh, I can’t walk.”
He’s back by my side in a flash as his gaze combs over me, searching for injury. “What is it? What’s happened?”
“My ankle. It’s twisted. Hit something on the way down before I could grab that vine.”
I glance down at my foot. I’ve been favoring it this whole time, but I’ve been able to hide the injury while I confessed my story. I didn’t want him to get distracted by that, now that I’ve finally found the courage to be honest with him.