by L. J. Voss
He stands with me in his arms and tenderly sets me on my feet. Then he reaches into the shower and turns the water on. “I don’t want you to do anything you are going to regret. You’ve also been through a lot and I don’t want to take advantage of you. Plus, you need to shower because you smell like swamp. Your muscles will appreciate soaking in the hot water. I probably should have let you do that before cleaning your cuts. I’ll grab you some clothes you can put on when you’re done. I’ll toss your clothes in the washer. If you need anything, call me.” Then he presses a kiss to my forehead and leaves.
I’m left standing there reeling from that kiss. Kissing Rice the first time was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. Kissing Rice for the second time was mind blowing. I can only imagine what it would be like if things went further. My hands wrap around me in an effort to keep myself from falling into a million pieces, my side twinges in pain and I’m reminded that I’m really in no condition, emotionally or physically, to enjoy everything that a night with Rice would offer.
Reluctantly I step into the warm spray of the water. I let it warm and massage my tight sore muscles. Grabbing some soap I wash my body, taking care when I get to my cuts. The door opens and I hear Rice call, “Here are some clothes.” Then I hear the door click shut again. I shampoo my hair and wince when I feel a big lump and dried blood from where Michael knocked me out. I stand and let the water run down my body until it’s no longer warm.
Wrapping myself in a towel, I pick up the clothes Rice left me. There is a pair of soft sweat pants and a large sweatshirt. I’m looking for a bra and a pair of underwear. Hello, earth to Imogen. Why would he have a bra and underwear? I see he’s also left some gauze and bandages. I bandage my cuts and then I pull the sweatshirt over my head. It smells like Rice and I relish the fact that I’m by myself so I can stick my nose in the fabric and try to commit it to memory. When I’ve gotten my fill of the sweatshirt smell, I glance in the mirror. I look about as good as I feel which isn’t saying much. Taking the elastic I’ve had on my wrist through the whole ordeal, I throw my hair up in a mess on the top of my head.
I open the door and I’m knocked backwards by what I can only describe as a bear. The cutest pair of brown eyes are looking up at me. Footsteps pound as Rice rushes in.
“Bernie! Bernie, leave her alone.” He is pulling at the fluffy giant’s collar.
A smile breaks out on my face as I stoop down and nuzzle his soft face. “Hi, Bernie.” I catch Rice’s eyes as I say, “I didn’t know you had a dog. He is gorgeous! What breed is he?”
“He’s a rescue so I’m not really sure. They told me a St. Bernard mix and that he probably has some Mastiff in him. I think he’s part goat since he tries to eat everything. But goat or no goat we’re buds and I can’t imagine life without him.” He gets a little embarrassed at his confession so I reassure him with another smile.
“I love him. I’m the same way with Mr. Darcy.” When his name leaves my mouth my face falls. “Mr. Darcy! I have to get him. He and Cleo are still at Calder’s cabin. They’re probably freaking out.”
“We’ll get them tomorrow, I promise. Right now you need to have some more food and you need to drink something. We’ll get a good night’s rest tonight and then we will head out early in the morning and get them. They’ll be okay until tomorrow morning.”
I don’t like it but I know that I don’t have much of a choice. When it comes to Rice I’ve learned that it’s usually what he says goes. He raises his eyebrow almost wanting me to try and fight him. Raising my hands in surrender I say, “Okay, fine. But first thing in the morning we are going to get them.”
“Promise. Dinner’s almost ready,” he turns and heads to the kitchen. I follow him with Bernie right by my side. As we enter I can hear music playing softly. I recognize the song almost immediately.
“Hozier? You know Hozier?”
“Good guess. Yeah, I love his voice. I’ve wanted to go to one of his concerts but things keep coming up.” I have a feeling I’m one of those things if not all of them. There is a living room connected to the kitchen and Bernie goes and hops up on the couch. Not wanting to abandon Rice, I stay standing in the kitchen.
“So, what’s for dinner?”
“Well, since my fish was such a hit, I decided to make you my famous waffles.”
“I was joking about you making them for me. But I’m starving and they sound so good. Keep cooking like this for me and you might never get rid of me.”
He’s barely audible but I think I hear him say, “That’s the plan.” Then again it could be my overactive imagination at work. It wouldn’t be the first time. The smells coming from where he is are making my mouth water. Looking back at me he motions to the couch with his chin, “Go relax. I’m fine in here. I’ll bring it to you when I’m done.”
I go and sit next to Bernie who moves over so his head is resting on my leg. Petting him is soothing and comforting. Sitting here, I lay my head back and listen to the music. I never knew Rice and I had such similar tastes in music. Although I’m not sure I’m going to be hearing Jay Z or Wicked anytime soon. So far I’ve heard quite a few bands I recognize. Most of the people I know have never heard of most of these people so for him to have them all on a playlist is intriguing.
Rice gently touches my elbow and hands me a plate. I must have dozed off. “Thank you. This smells amazing.”
He sits next to me on the couch. There isn’t much small talk going on. I would probably eat anything I’m so hungry, but this tastes even better than it smells. The waffles are swimming in syrup and there are strawberries sprinkled on top. Everything is topped off with whipped cream. I’m shoveling waffle into my mouth and the only thing I’m doing in between bites is taking a breath. After my very realistic impression of a Hoover vacuum I sit back and let the food settle. He glances at me as I stretch out and starts laughing.
“You inhaled that. I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone eat that much food that fast.”
“You don’t want to get between me and food,” I joke.
“Noted. Now that you’re done, if you’re tired you can head to bed if you want. I’m giving you my bed and I’m taking the couch. I’ll try to keep Bernie out here but he is sneaky when he wants to be and he’ll probably find his way in and up on the bed in the middle of the night.”
“Oh you don’t have to give me your bed. I’m more than fine on the couch, really. But I’m actually surprisingly not that tired right now. Do you want to watch a movie or something?”
“You’re taking my bed and that’s the end of it. I’ll carry you in there and lock the door. If my mom found out I let a woman sleep on the couch while I was on the bed I would never hear the end of it. Plus your dad would probably kill me,” he shudders at the thought. Continuing he says, “I’m game for a movie or whatever. I don’t have much here since this place is only temporary. I have a few basic cable channels.” He flips through the channels he has but there isn’t much on. His movie selection is even sadder. There is a Friends marathon on one of the channels so we decide on that. You can’t go wrong with Friends.
I glance over at Rice after the sixth episode and see that he has fallen asleep. Like a creeper I watch him sleep for a few minutes. I know he would be more comfortable if I go in the bedroom so he can have the whole couch but I can’t bring myself to leave him. I move my legs and scoot closer to him. I only make it a few more episodes before I too fall asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
- Imogen -
I wake up nestled into Rice’s side with his arm around me. Afraid that if I open my eyes it’ll end, I continue to lie here with my eyes shut. I feel him chuckle and then he says, “I know you’re awake. You can open your eyes now.”
Sheepishly I open my eyes to see him looking down at me. Cue the embarrassing tomato face blushing. He smiles at my discomfort before saying, “Good morning.”
“Good
morning.”
“So I was thinking we could eat a quick breakfast and then head out. We’ll need to stop by the shop before we head to get Mr. Darcy.” At the hopeful look on my face he adds, “And by shop I mean mine not yours. It isn’t safe to go to yours yet.”
Swallowing my disappointment I acquiesce, “OK.”
We both stand and head into the kitchen. Rice gets some coffee started and then turns to me, “Your clothes are dry. I put them on the bed last night after you fell asleep out here. I was going to move you but I was afraid I would wake you up and I figured you needed your sleep.”
My heart lifts when I learn that it wasn’t my sneaky moves after he fell asleep that caused our cuddling this morning, but it was his choice. He came back to the couch even after he had woken up and I was sleeping. “I don’t think I realized how exhausted I was. I’m going to go change so we can go get Mr. Darcy and Cleo.”
He turns back towards the kitchen and I head to his bedroom. I thought the sweatshirt smelled amazing but it doesn’t hold a candle to the smell of Rice’s bedroom. Imagining him lying in the bed makes my stomach do a little flip. I spot my clothes on his bed. Even though they’ve been cleaned they’re still stained with blood and dirt. Since I don’t have anything else and I pull them on and head back out to Rice.
There is cereal and milk on the counter. Rice is sitting, drinking a cup of coffee with an empty bowl in front of him. He’s absent-mindedly stroking Bernie’s head. When Bernie sees me he gets up and runs over. I give him a good scratch behind his ears and then we both head over to where Rice is sitting.
“Hey,” he says when I sit next to him.
“Hey.”
“There is some cereal and coffee. If that doesn’t sound good feel free to look through the cabinets, you’re welcome to whatever you want. I’m going to go change,” he says as he stands. To Bernie he adds, “Come on, Bern.”
However Bernie doesn’t budge. Reaching down and petting his head again, I say, “He’s fine here.”
He turns to head to his room and under his breath he mutters, “Traitor. Give me up for a pretty girl.”
I look down at Bernie and he looks up at me and I shrug my shoulders. Not one to miss an opportunity to get to know Rice just a little bit better, I get up and start looking through his cabinets. There really isn’t anything in them; it’s really just the bare necessities. I laugh when I get to a cabinet that has a value size bucket full of Double Bubble. Since I’m not going to learn much else from snooping through cabinets I give up and pour myself a cup of coffee.
I look at the cereals he has out on the counter and I laugh inwardly at his selection. Rice comes off as confident almost to the point of cockiness. He is strong and hard and not someone you would want to pick a fight with. But he also has a soft side and he makes me laugh. I’m now realizing he also has the tastes of a little kid. Three cereals are on the counter and they are all chock full of sugar with brightly colored boxes. My choices are Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Fruit Loops, or Reese’s Peanut Butter Puffs.
I settle on the Reese’s, my rationale being that since there has to be some peanut butter in there somewhere at least I’m getting some protein. Plus I have Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Fruit Loops at home. Bernie’s soulful brown eyes are watching me optimistically. His bowl is sitting against the wall so I grab the Fruit Loops and pour a few in his bowl. Patting his head, I coo, “Good boy.”
He devours his cereal in four bites. I’m not quite as Hoover vacuum like today so I’ve still got about a quarter of my cereal left when Rice walks back in. I hurry and finish and then walk to the sink and clean my bowl. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s do this,” he enthuses. He hooks Bernie’s leash on and explains unnecessarily, “He normally comes to the shop with me. I feel bad leaving him again after I’ve been gone for the last few days.”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me. The more the merrier.”
I follow him out the door and down the hall. But rather than turn to go down the stairs, he takes me to the door just to the left of them. He knocks on the door and a small elderly woman answers. She has white hair that is cropped close to her head and curled. My guess is she looks to be almost one hundred. Her eyes light up when she sees Rice. When she notices me her mouths turns up to reveal a gummy smile. Rice grasps her hand and kisses her on her cheek. He whispers into her ear in Spanish. This man is full of surprises. She turns and walks away only to return a few seconds later to hand him some keys. Her tan and withered hand comes up to pat his cheek. Then she grabs my hand and puts it into his free one. I glance up at Rice and he just smiles at me and then leans down and gives her another kiss on the cheek. Bernie has pushed his way through our clasped hands. The little old woman pets his face and he gives her a couple of slobbery kisses. Judging by the way his tail is wagging he knows her and is very fond of her.
Rice pulls Bernie back and following his lead I head towards the stairs. She watches us until we are out of sight and then I hear her door click shut. When we exit the building, I follow Rice over to a champagne color old model four-door Dodge. It is the quintessential old lady car. Taking the keys she gave him he unlocks the passenger side door for me. Before I can get in Bernie hops in and sits in the middle. His enthusiasm makes me laugh and I follow him in. Rice walks around the car and climbs in the driver side.
“Who was that?”
He starts the car and pulls out onto the street before answering, “That is Ms. Benitez. When I first moved in she was trying to climb the stairs with all her groceries by herself. I offered to help her. We’ve watched out for each other ever since. She watches Bernie sometimes. I’m pretty sure he likes her more than he likes me.” Glancing around Bernie and over at me he smiles, “He seems to like the fairer sex better and I can’t say I blame him.” He leans back and continues, “She’s all alone. So I do chores and errands for her and in return she makes me home cooked meals.”
If it’s at all possible, I think I fall a little more in love with him. “You really are one of the good ones, aren’t you?”
His face hardens a little before smoothing into a small grin, “I try to be, but I still have my naughty side.” The little wink and the implication of his words send a shiver down my spine.
We continue on our drive in comfortable silence. Bernie is leaning his head over mine to try to get to the window. After a few minutes his self-control gives out and he climbs over me to put his head out. I just smile and lean my head on his side.
Rice pulls up in front of a warehouse and puts the car in park. I follow him inside and am hit with the mouthwatering smell of coffee. Lights click on and Bernie runs ahead of us to what I’m assuming is an office. When I finally get there I see Rice unlocking a cabinet in the corner. When he opens it, I’m shocked to see an arsenal. There are big guns and little guns. Knives upon knives are lined along the door. Baffled how anyone could ever have a need or a use for so many weapons I remember that Rice is part of the mafia.
It’s so easy to forget everything when I’m with him. The world sort of fades away. When he’s done stocking up, he locks the cabinet and approaches me with a small gun in his hand and inquires, “Have you ever fired a gun?” When I shake my head he places the gun in my hand and says, “This is a Smith and Wesson M & P Shield.”
I’ve never held a gun before. My heart beats a little faster and in a mixture of panic and adrenaline I retort, “I don’t think the type of gun or the name of it really matters here, do you? It’s not going to help me suddenly know how to shoot.”
He chortles as he continues, “No, it probably doesn’t.” As he is talking he comes behind me and placing his hands around mine brings the gun up into shooting position, “There isn’t a safety so you just have to chamber the bullet and then point and shoot. To chamber the bullet you pull back on the slide, which is this,” he motions to the top back portion of the gun, “There is a little bit of a
kick when you shoot but nothing too bad.” He steps back and I’m left holding the gun.
“Rice, I really don’t think this is necessary. I will probably kill or hurt myself before I even hit whatever is coming at me.” I try to hand it back to him.
“Imogen, you are taking the gun. No arguing. I won’t have you unarmed given the current situation. If I knew where you were holed up for the last few days I’m sure he knows too and if not he’s probably found out.”
The thought that Michael might have known where I was this entire time makes my blood run cold. Then the realization of what Rice just said has my skin flaming with embarrassment. I croak, “You. You’ve known where I’ve been this whole time? You were watching and spying on me?” Memories from my time with Calder are flashing through my mind. I’m not sure why but the thought of Rice knowing what happened with Calder is making my stomach turn. Luckily his response calms me down.
“No, I wasn’t watching you. I knew the FBI had you and that you would be safe with them. But I stayed close and kept a look out.”
“Oh, oh that’s good then.”
“Back to the gun, you’re taking it. I won’t let there be a reason for you to have to use it but if something happens to me I have to know that you will have a chance at protecting yourself. Promise me that if you have to use it you will?”
I gulp down the nerves and agree, “I promise.”
“Good girl.” Straightening he says, “Now let’s go get Mr. Darcy and,” he pauses, “Cleo? Who is Cleo?”
“Yes, Cleo. Cleo is the baby duck I rescued,” I beam.
“I should have known. It’s a good thing you were only there for a couple days. Otherwise you’d have a whole zoo by the time I got to you.” Reaching for my hand he adds, “Let’s go.” He starts to head out into the warehouse and I realize that once we leave here reality will come crashing back. There is someone out there who wants to kill me and right now I’m not sure I’m ready to pop this little delusional idea that I’m in a safety bubble here with Rice.