Cabin Fever

by Rye Hart

  I sighed and sat back into the couch. I could feel the tension in the room diffusing and I started to feel bad. I thought this woman was a high-strung city gal who wanted nothing more than to complicate everyone’s world but all she really wanted was a few answers. Flicking my gaze over to her, I watched her settle in for the first time since this morning and, suddenly, that moment came flooding back to me and I felt like a dick.

  “I’m sorry for what happened at breakfast,” I said.

  “You should be. I was just trying to do something nice.”

  I couldn’t help but snicker at her as I shook my head.

  “There it is,” she said. “I figured you had lip movement underneath that beard somewhere.”

  I settled my hand onto her shin while my eyes panned over to her. She was a hard woman to stay mad at. I’d give her that. Her dark blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and I started to wonder a little more about her. Instead of being scared of the big, bad, bearded man in the lonely little cabin, she was actually trying to pry me open and learn a little more about me.

  Fuck. This woman must’ve lived a hard life for someone like me to not scare her.

  “And what about you?” I asked.

  “What about me?”

  “What did you do with your life at one point?” I asked.

  “What makes you think I don’t do something with it now?” she asked.

  “Because you haven’t pestered me yet about calling anyone. No friends. No boss. No work.”

  I watched her face falter for just a second before she drew in a deep breath.

  “I was a lawyer,” she said.

  “Did you enjoy it?” I asked.

  “I guess if I did then I’d still be doing it, eh?” she raised an eyebrow at me.

  I nodded in understanding and quickly backed off. It was interesting, being in the company of a beautiful woman who understood the need to not talk about the personal shit. Most people tried to get me to talk. They told me it was better if I leaned on someone. But being beside someone who understood the value of keeping shit close to one’s chest was refreshing.

  She still had to go but I got the feeling it wasn’t going be as shitty as I had originally thought it was going be.

  Suddenly, I heard the power whir down. The lights in the kitchen flickered before the roar of the generator started up and I sighed as I got up off the couch. I went over and shut off the lights in the kitchen before I made my way to the fireplace. It was time to start stoking a fire for light so I could conserve the gasoline I had.

  After all, two people were now using up the hot water in this place.

  I couldn’t help but catch her stare every now and again. As I stacked the kindling and lit a piece of newspaper, I felt her gaze on me, watching my every move while the fire slowly roared to life in the fireplace. I stood up to get some logs, turning my body toward hers just to catch another glimpse of her.

  In that moment, a part of me wished I wasn’t as damaged as I was.

  Even though I felt my gut lurching toward her, I knew I couldn’t have her. Traitors didn’t deserve the beauty and softness. I should’ve been willing to die instead of doing what I did, so seclusion was the only thing I deserved. I didn’t deserve that beautiful woman lying on my couch. I didn’t deserve her smile or her company. I didn’t deserve the warmth her body could provide or the laughter I’m sure she could bring into my life.

  “I worked for a corporate law firm,” she said after a minute.

  “Ah.”

  “Full of really shitty men,” she said.

  “Sounds about right,” I said.

  “They wanted me to defend all these people I knew were guilty. Businessmen and corporations practicing unethically.”

  “Isn’t that just as unethical?” I asked. “Defending the guilty?”

  “They’re only guilty if you can prove it in court. My job was to prove they weren’t guilty.”

  “That sounds awful,” I said.

  “It was. I’m pretty sure my boss was using the information as blackmail to build whatever empire he was trying to build. You know, gathering secrets from the world’s biggest corporations to lean on them when he needed them.”

  “That makes a little more sense,” I said.

  “What does?” she asked.

  “Why you’re not afraid.”

  I turned around to look at her and saw the confusion behind her beautiful blue eyes.

  “A six-foot-four jerk with facial hair and a bad attitude picks you up and brings you into his cabin in the middle of the woods and you don’t bat an eye. Figured you must’ve really had some harsh stuff happen in your life.”

  I watched her gaze grow somber before she cleared her throat. Suddenly, those dark blue eyes were turned down into her lap and her blonde hair fell in front of her face. I couldn’t see her eyes or clock how she might’ve been feeling but I did see her shoulders heave just for a moment.

  What the hell had life done to this vibrant, beautiful woman?

  “Maybe you’re just not as intimidating as you think,” she said, grinning.

  She turned her face back to me with that little grin running across her cheeks but I could still see the sadness in her eyes. And for a moment, I finally knew what it felt like when other people looked at me.

  “Anyway,” she said, sighing. “I quit about a month or so ago. My boss wanted me to defend the head of a pharmaceutical company who was creating a drug that had already killed five or so people in the trial. It was obvious he skimped on health requirements to push the drug to the market. My boss literally told me that I needed to defend a murderer if I wanted to keep my job. Said I couldn’t stay human and be a lawyer. So, I quit.”

  The fire roared behind me, taunting my skin with its heat. It whispered to me with its flames licking up the chimney of the cabin and I could hear it whispering the truth that vibrated between us.

  She’s stronger than you. Stronger. Stronger than you.

  And the flames were right. Her boss breached a line and she was presented with a choice: stick to her morals or cave. It was the same choice I was presented with. I could’ve stuck to my morals and died with dignity, or I could’ve caved.

  She stuck to her morals and I caved.

  “Liam?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

  I suddenly couldn’t be around her anymore. We were no longer on an even footing. She might understand the need to protect secrets but she was also greater than me. Better than me. And I didn’t want my cowardice rubbing off on her.

  It was why I was alone. It was why I needed to stay that way.

  “Get some rest,” I said as I made my way to the hallway. “I’ll make dinner for us tonight.”

  Then, I disappeared down the hallway and made my way back to my room.

  She needed to rest and I needed to be alone.

  CHAPTER 10

  WHITNEY

  I woke up the next morning to decadent smells coming from the kitchen. I stretched, feeling my ankle shoot searing pain up my leg. I bit down on my lip and whimpered, trying to keep my emotions at bay. I could hear things sizzling in pans while the smells wafted around me and I didn’t want to bother the cook in the kitchen.

  “Whitney?” Liam asked.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. Just a bit of pain.”

  In an instant, he was at my side. His fingertips were peeling back the blankets I had wrapped around my body before he carefully picked up my ankle. He unwrapped it to survey the damage and I could see the knowledge he possessed at work behind his eyes. His fingertips were careful and his touch was warm and, as I watched him slowly try to move my ankle, I felt his thumb feeling for something.

  “Your foot’s tightening up a bit because of the swelling,” he said. “Let’s keep the bandage off for a little while and let the swelling dissipate.”

  He looked up at me and I nodded before he went back to the kitchen. I swung my legs around the couch and presse
d my foot to the floor. The pain was still there, shooting right up into my shin as I tried to stand up.

  “Doesn’t mean you can try to walk,” Liam said.

  “The food smells wonderful,” I said. “What are you making?”

  “Omelets and hash browns,” he said.

  “Sounds wonderful.”

  “Coffee, sweet tea, or juice?” he asked.

  “You must’ve grown up in the South if sweet tea is a replacement for water,” I said, grinning.

  He didn’t respond.

  Instead, he walked over with a plate and handed it to me. He set down a mug of coffee in front of me and I smiled up at him before he disappeared again. He might’ve been closed off and quiet but he was a fabulous caretaker and I wanted to see if he would let me do something to repay him.

  I picked up my fork and took a bite of the food, moaning as it melted in my mouth. Liam came and sat down in the chair beside me while I continued to groan over the taste of my breakfast. By the time I was done with my omelet, I felt like I could think straight again. The pain was subsiding and the fog from sleep was clearing, so I turned my gaze to him and smiled.

  “Thank you for taking care of me,” I said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  “No really. You’ve been wonderful and I appreciate it.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  “And this food is fabulous,” I said. “Have you always been such a good cook?”

  At my question, he fell silent again.

  I had learned a few things from observing him over the last two days. He was a cautious man—very cautious—and didn’t give away too much about himself. He liked to be in control, not because he wanted to lord power over me but because it seemed to keep him calm to call the shots. He suffered from nightmares, which I could only guess were from something he’d experienced while in the service, and, when he didn’t answer a question, it wasn’t because he was trying to be a dick. He obviously lived up here all alone for a reason and so far he had handled having an unexpected houseguest a lot better than most people would have.

  “It’s beautiful up here,” I said. “Even through the snow I got caught in, I could see it. I understand why you’re drawn to it. I’ve always been that way, too.”

  Liam nodded but he didn’t say anything. I found that I didn’t care. I hadn’t spoken to anyone new in a very long time. When I quit my job, I got rid of all but one person I talked with on a regular basis. It was nice talking to someone else.

  Even if that someone didn’t want to talk back.

  “I’ve always preferred the mountains over the beach,” I said. “I don’t like the way the beach makes me feel so exposed. Both mentally and physically. I don’t want to actively go somewhere where it’s a requirement to strip down to something akin to colorful underwear.”

  I giggled and could’ve sworn I saw his lips tick up into a grin. I really couldn't tell underneath all that hair.

  “Plus, the sunsets are better out here,” I said. “Gwen would like them. That’s my best friend back home. She’s a hairdresser and she’s about to open her own business. You know, she’s wanted to do that ever since she was a little girl. We went to grade school together.”

  Memories upon memories came flooding back to me as I put my plate down. I picked up my coffee mug and brought it to my lips. I thought back to my middle school years and how Gwen and I used to spend hours walking around the mall, buying ice cream cones with our allowance like we were hot stuff. We’d spend time during class passing notes back and forth like the teacher couldn’t see us and we’d have entire weekend sleepovers where we’d stay up too late and gossip about all the boys in school.

  Life seemed so much simpler back during those days.

  I looked over and saw Liam staring at me with his peridot eyes. He seemed to be softening just a bit. His eyes didn’t seem as stern and the sounds he did make didn’t seem as edgy. Instead of his shoulders being rolled back, they were relaxed, like he was settling in for a story he was intent on listening to.

  It was the first time I’d ever seen him this way and, I had to admit, it was nice.

  “I have a friend like that,” Liam said.

  “You do?” I asked.

  “Yeah. Callen.”

  “Was he in the Navy with you?” I asked.

  “Still is,” he said.

  “Is he a medic too?”

  I saw that tension creeping back into his body and I wasn’t ready to let him go just yet. I wasn’t ready to go back to the way things had been at the beginning, where he was annoyed at my presence and I felt like nothing more than an intrusion.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I was just trying to make conversation.”

  His eyes flickered back to me with their soft blue notes and I heard him sigh through the thick hair on his face before he sank back into his chair.

  “Nothing to be sorry for,” he said. “I just don’t get many visitors.”

  “Or you don’t want them,” I said. “Which is okay, too. I can relate.”

  He didn’t answer but his eyes were trained on me again.

  “Outside of Gwen and one of my former colleagues, I don’t talk with anyone. It’s just easier that way.”

  I brought my coffee mug back to my lips and my eyes hooked onto the roaring fireplace. For once in my life, my mind was at a complete standstill. In the silence of this cabin, with nothing but the fire crackling, I was really able to take stock of my life. I was able to actually get away from it all, take a hard look at my life, and figure out where in the world I was going to go from here.

  “Was it hard?” I asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “Being a medic,” I said.

  I turned my gaze back toward him and I saw his eyes grow icy and defensive.

  “All I meant was, doctors take an oath to do no harm to people, right? But that seems a bit counterintuitive to being at war. Like me helping guilty people get off scot-free as a lawyer. Did you struggle with it? I did.”

  I was trying to find common ground. I was trying to find a way to relate to this man. I watched him get up from his seat and tear his eyes from me before he headed toward the hallway but I wasn’t letting him go this time.

  Not without at least trying to get him back.

  “Please talk to me,” I said. “I just want to get to know you a little more. To thank you for taking care of me.”

  “Then you can stop broaching subjects you know nothing about,” he said.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I saved more people than I should have, Whitney. And that’s all you need to know.”

  His words knocked the breath from my lungs before he started back down the hallway again. I sat there, my cup of coffee in my lap, and listened to his footsteps retreat. He shut a door behind him and I sighed. All I wanted to do was get to know the man behind the beard. All I wanted to do was try to make conversation. To learn a little more about him. I wanted to know what made this burly man tick. I wanted to know why he felt the need to be so closed off.

  I wanted to know what his nightmare was about a couple of nights ago.

  I didn’t know what was going on or what he had witnessed but I wasn’t going to give up on him. I felt he was a kindred spirit, like he understood a part of me I still didn't quite understand myself. I leaned into the couch and sipped my coffee, racking my mind as to how I could penetrate through the steel walls this man had so expertly thrown up.

  CHAPTER 11

  LIAM

  The gunfire around me was heavy. My face was planted to the ground and the stench of urine filled my nostrils. I clawed my fingernails into the dirt, trying to get to the sound of someone screaming. I could feel my skin on fire while my blood chilled like ice. But then I tugged on my restraints and realized I couldn’t go anywhere.

  I jerked awake when my phone started ringing. How in the world was a phone call getting through during weather like this? I picked up the phone and put it to my ear while sweat trickled down
the back of my neck.

  “Canter! My man. How are you?”

  “Hey there, Paxton,” I said.

  “Dude. You still asleep? It’s almost eleven in the morning.”

  “What?” I asked.

  I held my phone out and took a look at the time. Never in my life had I ever slept this late, not even when I was a teenager. My nightmare must’ve pulled me into a deep, dark recess because I could still feel my fingertips tingling from the residual phantom pains of that deployment.

  “You good?” Paxton asked.

  “Uh, yeah. I think.”

  “Another nightmare?” he asked.

  Paxton was the only person I’d ever mentioned them to and it wasn’t like we had drawn-out conversations about it. We talked long enough for me to figure out he was struggling with them, too. Then, that was that. Sometimes, we called each other when we woke up in the middle of the night but, since I’d been at the cabin, I’d kept to myself quite a bit.

  “Good thing I called to check up on you,” he said. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really,” I said, groaning.

  “You sweating?” he asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Aching?”

  “Uh huh,” I said.

  “You thought about talking to someone about them?”

  “I could ask you the same thing,” I said.

  Silence fell on the phone call and I sighed. I raked my hand through my wet hair, grimacing at how it felt. I wouldn’t have to change the sheets but I would have to change my pillowcase and I could feel how scraggly my hair was becoming. My beard was uneven and the hair on top of my head was growing past the tops of my ears. The Navy would’ve had a field day with what I currently looked like but, as I sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the silence on the phone, a realization crossed my mind.

  I wasn’t in the Navy anymore.

  I knew it had been over a month since I’d officially been retired but that had been my life for most of my upbringing. From the time I was fifteen, I knew I wanted to join the military. I enlisted before I even graduated high school and I didn’t attend my own graduation because I was too busy attending basic training. I had them send me my high school diploma and I still had no idea where the hell that thing was.