by Rye Hart
By the time the dinner hour rolled around, I still hadn’t' seen her. So, I decided that I needed to check on her, just make sure she'd gotten home from the bar and that she was okay – nothing more. Patsy was reliable, and I trusted her completely, but I also knew that Abby was a loose cannon. You never knew what she was going to try next, and if she walked home that night and ended up hurt, God, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
I hopped in the truck and drove down the old, familiar road that led to Abby's place. I pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine, studying the house. There were no lights on inside, and it was completely dark. No porch light to dispel any of the shadows or gloom. It almost looked empty all over again.
The cicadas were the only sounds I heard as I climbed out of my truck and walked toward the front door. Was she even home? Had she made it home the other night? Was she maybe out with somebody else tonight? I walked up the front porch and peered in the window by the door. No sign of life. Nothing. I knocked anyway.
It was silent. There were no footsteps, no creaking floorboards – there was just nothing.
“Abby? It's me, Chase,” I called out. “Anyone home?”
I knocked again.
The time, I heard footsteps inside, and they were moving quickly. It was as if someone was running through the house. The front door opened quickly. She pulled it wide open and she motioned me to come inside. It was pitch black in the living room.
“What's going on?” I asked. “Forget to pay your light bill?”
I expected a laugh, some sarcastic reply – or something. But Abby shook her head. She was staring at the floor, keeping her distance from me, and was doing her best to avoid looking directly at me. Something was wrong here. I didn't know what it was, but I could feel it.
“No, I'm just resting,” she said, her voice softer than usual.
“Resting?” I asked. “As in sleeping?”
She nodded.
I scanned her body, still trying to figure out why she was acting so strangely. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Running shoes too. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed that a couple of overnight bags were packed and were sitting on the floor over by the couch. I stared at her for a long moment, trying to process it all, but Abby still wouldn't look at me.
“Abby, I want you to know that I'm sorry about – ”
“Stop it,” she said, her voice cracking even as she tried to laugh. “Stop apologizing. It's fine, Chase. What happened was a mistake, I get it. I'm ready to move on now.”
“Good,” I said calmly, though my voice sounded less certain.
Putting my hands in my pockets, I walked around the room, looking around as I headed toward Abby.
“You sure everything's okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, I'm fine,” she said, backing away.
When she stepped back, moonlight pouring in through the window splashed over her face and I caught a proper glimpse of her for the first time. Her eyes were puffy and, at first, I assumed it was from crying until I noticed the large bruise on her cheek. At least I thought it was a bruise – it was too dark for me to say for sure. I also couldn't be sure because she moved too fast, looking away before I could truly see her face, hiding herself from me.
But, why?
Unfortunately for her, I knew this house as well as I did my own, and I moved to the light switch. Abby called out to me, her voice nearly panicking.
“Chase, don't, please – ”
But, it was too late. I hit the switch and light flooded the room. Abby tried to keep her head down, but I went to her and lifted her face to me.
She cringed, shrinking away from me, so I dropped my hand, fearing I might have hurt her. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, yes, but they were also black and blue. She sported a large bruise on her cheek as well – just as I suspected. Her beautiful, pale skin was scratched and broken, and my heart sank to my toes.
“What happened?” I asked, anger and concern bubbling together in my gut.
“Chase, don't worry about it. I got it handled,” she said. “It's fine.”
I turned and looked at the bags on the floor again. It was then that it fully hit me – she was leaving.
“Can I just ask you one last favor, please?” she asked, biting her lip as she spoke, still not able to meet my eyes.
“Anything, Abby.”
“Could you take me to the train station? I really need to get out of here,” she said, a note of near panic in her voice. “Tonight, if possible.”
My fists were balled up at my sides, and as soon as I could speak, I managed to choke out, “Who did this to you?”
“No one you know,” she said, her voice far too calm. “Please, I just need to get out of here, Chase. Help me.”
“But who – ”
She sighed. “My ex. He found me, alright?” she said, an edge of profound sadness behind her words. “He doesn't know where I live, thank God. But, he found me at the bar the other night and – ”
“That son of a bitch did this to you?”
I reached out and touched her cheek, my fingertips brushing along the bruises. My insides ached, and my blood boiled with rage. Someone was going to pay for this. You never, ever hit a woman.
“Yeah, it's why I left him the first time,” she stammered as tears began welling up in her eyes. “I just really need to get out of here, Chase. I need to get away from him.”
“What happened?” I asked, clenching my jaw so tightly, I feared I might crack a tooth.
“After you left, I decided to walk home too, and – ”
“But I got you a ride, Abby,” I said.
Tears fell down her cheeks. She wiped them away and nodded, but I could see just how uncomfortable and upset she was – rightly so, given her condition.
“I know, but I needed some air too,” she said. “After what happened, I was just so – confused.”
I paced the room, my blood boiling, no longer able to look at her – at the damage I'd caused by leaving her there that night. This was my fault. All my fault.
She continued speaking though, “He was waiting for me outside. Thankfully, some guys were leaving and stepped in. They scared him away and he couldn't follow me home.”
I closed my eyes and sighed, shaking my head. I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again. I let out a long breath and looked up, trying to catch her eye.
“This is all my fault,” I said, the remorse thick in my voice.
“No, Chase, it's not,” she said, rushing over to me. She took my arm and held on tightly. “This isn't your fault. I shouldn't have left the bar alone. I just wasn't thinking.”
There she was, beaten, bruised, and scared, and she was trying to make me feel better. If I didn't feel like a complete and utter asshole before, well, now I did. Every muscle in my body was tense and I was still clenching my jaw. This was my fault, no matter what Abby said. If I hadn't left her there, none of this would have happened. I made a vow to myself right then and there – I didn't know how, but somehow, I'd make this right for her.
“I have to go,” she said. “He knows I'm here, somehow. I can't risk him finding out where I live. Not after what happened the last time.”
Her voice cracked, and I turned to her. Large, fat tears rolled down her cheeks unchecked, and I felt so helpless. So utterly useless. She wanted one thing from me, and one thing only.
“Alright,” I said. “I'll take you.”
CHAPTER SIX
ABBY
“Where are you going?” Chase asked once we were on the road.
I sighed and shook my head. “I don't know yet. Figured I'd just ride around until I disappeared somewhere, far away,” I said. “I thought this would be far enough away. I guess not.”
Chase was quiet for a while, and I just stared out at the dark ribbon of highway stretching off into the distance as we drove down the lonesome country road. Everything I owned was packed and sitting at my feet. There I was, trying to start over again. Not e
ven a few days after I finally got settled in.
“How did he find you?” Chase asked, his voice low.
“I don't know for sure, but he may have had access to my bank account still,” I said.
I closed my eyes, shook my head, and chastised myself for what was probably the stupidest thing I'd ever done. How could I have been so stupid?
“I'm thinking he logged into my account and saw where purchases were being made,” I said.
“He had your password?”
I shook my head. “No, but he knows enough about me to get that information,” she said. “He's in tech, so, he knows this stuff better than I do.”
Chase pulled into a McDonald's and drove through the parking lot.
“Hungry?” I asked.
I hadn't eaten all day, but my stomach roiled, and the very idea of food made me sick.
“No, we're turning around,” he said.
“What? Why?” I exclaimed, sitting up straight now. “I can't go back home. Paul will find me.”
We headed in the direction we'd come, heading back toward Lynnwood – back toward the town where my ex was waiting for me to finish what he'd started.
“Chase, I can't – ”
“Yes, you can,” he said, his voice calmer and more soothing than I expected. “Because you're not going home.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “If we're headed back to Lynnwood, where else would I go?”
“You're going to stay with me, Abby,” he said, his voice soft. “So I can keep an eye on you.”
I was taken aback. I stared at him like he'd grown multiple heads or something. I couldn't believe he'd gone from “stay off my lawn,” to “you're moving in with me” in such a short span of time. I cleared my throat and looked at him.
“Stay with you?” I asked.
“Yeah, until we put this bastard behind bars, you can stay with me,” he said. “We'll file a police report in the morning, and I'll make sure nothing happens to you in the meantime.”
“I - I can't do that, Chase,” I said.
My heart raced, and there was a warmth inside of me that I hadn't expected. I was overwhelmed by a feeling that he cared about me. He barely knew me, but somehow, he cared enough to go through all this trouble for me.
“Yes, you can. And yes, you will. Listen, Abby,” he said, stopping to take a deep breath, and ran a hand over his head. “I know guys like Paul. He will find you, no matter where you go. And one of these days, he's going to kill you. I can't let that happen to you. I won't let that happen to you.”
“How do you – ?” I stopped.
The question made him grimace, and he stared straight ahead through the windshield at the road beyond. Something told me he had experience with abusers like Paul – personal experience. Considering what little I knew about him, it could only mean one thing, logically speaking.
“Your mother?” I asked softly.
He turned to look at me, and I gave him a soft smile, before he continued. “Yeah, my mom. My dad beat the shit out of her, and we kept running. And no matter how far we ran, he kept finding us. Until one day, he'd had enough of the game, and shot her before turning the gun on himself.”
“Jesus,” I said, covering my mouth. “I don't even know what to say, Chase. That's awful.”
Chase shrugged, but I could tell it wasn't easy for him to talk about this. Even as he tried to hide his feelings behind a blank mask, I saw the look of bleak despair in his eyes. This hurt him to talk about – and yet, he'd told me anyway.
“It was a long time ago, and I wasn't there for it, luckily,” he said. “I was in the Marines at the time, newly enlisted. Still, part of me wonders if I could have done something more. Had I been there – ”
“Stop that,” I said, as I reached out and stroked his arm. “You can't change the past. And even if you had been there, you might have been killed yourself as well.”
“Yeah, maybe. Probably,” he said. “But I can make sure it doesn't happen again. I can protect you.”
Hearing it put that way – I found that I couldn't really argue with him. He felt obligated to help me and if I left and something happened to me, he would never forgive himself. Besides, the idea of staying with him wasn't all bad. I did feel safe with him around, that much was true. He was a Marine, after all. Tough and strong. Paul had nothing on him – and if he tried to have a go at me while I stayed at his place, he was going to be in for a world of hurt.
I smiled. “It would be nice to stop running.”
“You'll never have to run again, Abby,” he said. “I'll make damn sure of that.”
Chase released one hand from the steering wheel, and in a casual gesture, took my hand in his. He gave it a quick squeeze and gave me a small, tight-lipped smile that made me feel at peace. Or at least, more at peace than I'd been in a while.
~ooo000ooo~
The inside of Chase's home was larger than I imagined. Much too large for just one person. He walked me through a living room that had a large stone fireplace and overstuffed couches that looked more comfortable than the mattress I had at my place. We walked down a hallway and there were several doors on either side of the corridor.
“Your room is going to be right next to mine,” he said.
The large, wooden door creaked like something out of a horror movie when he opened one of them and we stepped inside. He reached out, flipping on the light, and the room was furnished and made up nicer than I would have expected. It struck me as a bit odd that a loner like him would have a nicely made up guest room.
A queen-sized bed was in the center of the room that had a navy-blue duvet over a white down comforter. A dark wood, intricately carved bed frame with a matching bedroom set filled out the rest of the room. There was a half bath attached to the room, along with a spacious walk-in closet.
“Wow, it's really nice,” I said, feeling safer just by being there, in his house. In his presence. “For a loner with no friends, you have one hell of a guest room.”
He didn't say anything. He just stood there with his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet on the ground, staring at me. There was an inscrutable expression on his face I couldn't interpret, but I knew we'd been through a lot tonight. He'd been through a lot too, just by sharing his story with me.
His dark brown hair was messed up and stood on end, sticking out in a million different directions. The disheveled look worked for him, though, and I imagined running my hand through his thick, brown hair.
Before I could stop myself, I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around him. I pulled him into a tight embrace. He felt stiff and awkward at first, but he slowly relaxed into my arms.
“Thank you,” I whispered against his chest.
I rose onto my toes to kiss him on the cheek, but he turned his face, and our lips met. Neither one of us pulled back, though. His lips were warm and wet, and his tongue pushed into my mouth as we both backed up slowly, without even meaning to. His hands gently stroked my face, and I noticed he was being very careful in how he touched me. He was doing his best not to hurt me.
We reached the foot of the bed, and I sat down on it. Chase nudged me backward and climbed on top, his body hovering above mine. He leaned down and kissed me again, holding his weight on his strong forearms. I ran my hands over his chest, hungry for the feel of his flesh against my fingertips. I lifted his shirt, sliding my hands up and underneath it, touching his skin at last.
Chase did the same with my shirt. Gently, he helped me out of it, tossing it to the floor casually. Neither one of us said a word though. It was almost like if we spoke, the spell would be broken. His eyes devoured me once I was shirtless, my breasts peeking out over the top of the lacy white bra I was wearing. His lips met my cleavage and my body arched upward toward him, a whimper escaping my lips.
“Yes, yes,” I groaned, wrapping my legs around him.
Chase reached around and removed my bra like a pro, and my breasts fell free.
He took my breast in one h
and, cupping it and lightly flicking his tongue over my stiff nipple, sending electric bolts of sensation shooting through me. I arched my body upward, pressing against him even more.
My hands were trembling as I pulled his shirt off, exposing that perfect chest once and for all. Tattoos dotted his flesh, and I traced my finger around several of the intricate designs. Initials with dates. Birth dates and death dates. My heart sank as it hit me what those meant, and there were so many – too many for any one person to be forced to endure in one lifetime. I stared up into his soulful brown eyes and really saw him for the first time. All that fear, all that anxiety, the pensive, even combative demeanor – that all came from losing someone you love. From losing everyone you love.
I knew it because I'd been there too.
My losses might not be as numerous as his, but they were there, engraved into my flesh every bit as deeply as his. Not as tattoos but as scars that would never fully heal.
Chase reached for my jeans, quickly unbuttoning them, and slid them down my hips. He pulled them off me, moving down the length of my body as he did so. Lying naked on the bed before him, I felt the butterfly wings of nervousness battering my insides. Somehow, my bruises, blemishes, and flaws all seemed more pronounced and unattractive. There was a gently curious expression on his face as he trailed his fingers over a large scar on my stomach.
It was as if he was asking about it without actually speaking the words. I closed my eyes until he moved lower. I wasn't ready to talk about it yet. Maybe not ever.
My eyes flew open though, as his hand brushed against the folds between my thighs. I stared down at him, and he stared back up at me, situated between my legs with a smile on his face. A boyish smile unlike any I'd seen from him before. It was adorable.
Chase lowered himself between my legs and lapped at my wet, swollen lips before parting them with his fingers. His tongue sought out my clit, licking and teasing as I writhed beneath him on the bed. My hands reached for his head, and I tangled my fingers in his shaggy hair, pulling it, moaning softly, as he drove his tongue into my pussy with incredible zeal.