by J. L. Wilder
“Well, good for you, Scorn Ryder. But I’m not going to give my name to some random guy with a shack in the middle of the woods.” She looked at her arms, noting cuts and scrapes.
“Seems like you already did hurt me.” She backed up, stepping over empty whiskey bottles and beer cans.
“Just stop,” he said. “And I can explain everything.”
“What’s there to explain? Did you kidnap me or some shit? Drag me back to your creepy-ass dungeon in the middle of the woods? What the hell are you planning on doing with me?”
Maddie glanced down, spotting a broken whiskey bottle on the ground. She grabbed it by the handle and held it out like a knife.
“Come near me and I’ll...give you a poking you won’t soon forget.”
“Easy!” he said once more, this time louder. “Can you give me a second to explain? I’m not going to hurt you!”
“Get talking,” she said, the bottle still in her hand. “Or I start poking.”
He sighed and shook his head as if her threat was nothing more than an annoyance he had to deal with.
“What do you remember?”
Maddie tried to think.
“I...I was with my group, talking to Shana. Then I checked my phone and...”
Panic flashed in her. Despite the danger she was certain she was in, Maddie remembered the stakes of the work situation. She set down the bottle and patted her pockets frantically.
“Shit—my phone. Where’s my phone?”
“Your phone? Lady, you about died out there and you’re worried about your phone?”
Panic formed in Maddie’s gut. “You don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve got the contract to end all contracts just waiting for me to respond, and if it doesn’t...”
She looked around as if her phone might’ve been hidden under one of the many piles of beer cans that littered the living room.
“Whatever the fuck’s going on with your personal life,” said Scorn, stepping around the couch. “It’s going to have to wait. You nearly dropped a mile down onto the forest floor and—”
Maddie paused, his words about nearly dying jogging some of her memory. She closed her eyes and tried to think, tried to remember what he was talking about.
She remembered hitting her foot; she remembered falling. Maddie remembered rolling down a tall slope, pain ringing out through her body as she fell towards a cliffside. Then she remembered—
“I fell,” she said. “I rolled off a cliff and I started to fall. You saved me. How the hell did you do that?”
Scorn said nothing for a long moment, and Maddie could sense he was trying to think of what to say.
“You didn’t fall,” he said. “You rolled right into a tree trunk on the edge of the cliff. You got lucky—really lucky.”
Something about his story rang false. But she knew this was how she got hurt.
“Wait, let me get this straight—I fell, rolled down the hill, and would’ve flown off the edge if I hadn’t slammed into a tree trunk. And then that’s where you found me.”
“You sound like you don’t believe me.”
Maddie closed her eyes again, this time more memories flooding into her head. She didn’t remember a tree trunk, but she did remember flying through the air. She remembered the cool rush of wind, followed by the pressure of something wrapping around her, something cold and hard.
What the hell was it?
She paused, not knowing what to say or do. Maddie wasn’t used to second-guessing herself. But at that moment, she couldn’t be certain whether she had remembered what had happened or if it had all been something her panicked mind had conjured up.
After all, what possible explanation for it could there have been?
She waved her hands in front of her face, trying to refocus her attention.
“OK, none of that matters. What does matter is that I get in touch with my office. I need to get back to Seattle and get this contract signed and—”
Before she could go on, a massive boom of thunder sounded through the house. Maddie craned her neck to look out of the nearest window. The sky was darkening by the second.
“You’re not going anywhere. Huge storm’s about to come in.”
“Don’t you have a car? Some way we can get to the nearest town?”
“These roads turn muddy as hell when it rains. Best thing to do is wait it out, get moving in the morning.”
Another boom of thunder sounded, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminated the otherwise dark and dingy interior of the living room.
“Might as well get comfortable,” said Scorn. “You’re gonna be here for a minute.”
“You’re serious? You think I’m going to be here for another hour, let alone until, what, tomorrow morning?”
As if nature made the argument for her, rain began to patter softly on the windows.
“Get comfy. I’ll get some food going in a bit.”
Maddie ran her hand through her hair, shaking her head in disbelief.
“At least tell me you have electricity in this place,” she said, her eyes still adjusting to the dark.
“You know, you’re pretty damn bossy for someone who just got her life saved.”
Without waiting for her response, Scorn turned and stepped out of the room, his boots thudding heavily on the floor as he did.
Where the hell is he going? Is he just going to leave me here?
She heard a door open toward the back of the house, the hush of the rain sounding louder for a brief moment.
Don’t tell me he’s going to come back with a chainsaw or something. One minute I’m checking my phone, the next I’m in the dungeon of some weirdo who lives alone out in the middle of the woods.
Moments later, a growling noise sounded from outside the house. Maddie perked up, her heart beating faster as she considered the idea that it might really be a chainsaw.
Then the lights went on, the place filled with illumination from the lamps here and there. And however dingy and dirty the place looked before, it was even worse under the clear light.
How the hell does he live like this? Who is this guy?
The door opened and closed again, more heavy footfalls sounding. Scorn stepped back into the living room, his shirt soaked from the brief time he’d spent outside getting his generator going.
Without saying a word, he went into the kitchen and returned with two beers. He offered one to Maddie.
“No,” she said, shaking her head.
Scorn shrugged. “Suit yourself. This kind of weather’s the best for drinking if you ask me.”
“Judging by the number of bottles and cans around here, I’m getting the impression you’re an all-weather kind of drinker.”
He chuckled, as if more amused than anything else by her attitude. Then he pulled his soaked shirt over his head, revealing a perfect, sculpted body. Scorn’s shoulders were broad and round, his chest thick and broad, his biceps cut. Her insides tingled at the sight of him, and it took some serious restraint on Maddie’s part to not stare.
“Gotta pass the time around here somehow.”
“I don’t get it—what do you do here? You just...live in the woods and drink?”
The beer in his hands, he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.
“You got a problem with that? What do you do? Live in some one-bedroom in Seattle and write contracts for a living?”
She hadn’t been prepared for him to come at her like that.
“None of your business what I do,” she said, her tone sharp.
“There you go,” said Scorn. “You don’t ask me about my life, and I don’t ask you about yours. Simple as that. Then tomorrow, you can get on your way.”
He sipped his beer and sat back, Maddie watching as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. Part of her was certain he was teasing her by lounging around with his shirt off like that.
She placed her hands on her arms, rubbing them for heat.
“You’re not cold?” she
asked. “It’s freezing in here.”
“Temperature...doesn’t bother me that much.”
“That’s weird.”
“Just how I am. Got some wood if you want a fire.”
Part of her wanted to say “no.” Maddie already felt in debt to Scorn, and she didn’t like owing anyone anything. But a fire did sound nice.
“Sure,” she said. “That’d be all right.”
He nodded, rising from his seat and taking one more long swig of his beer before tossing the can into the corner, where it landed with a clatter.
“Gimme a sec.”
He left the room, coming back moments later with a bundle of wood. It took him a few minutes to clear out the fireplace, put in the wood, and get it lit. And Maddie watched him work, watched his taut muscles flex and tense as he stacked the wood piece by piece.
It didn’t take long for him to have a fire going, the room soon filling with cozy warmth.
“You hungry?” he asked, dusting his hands once the fire was going.
“Not re—”
“Actually, let me rephrase that—I’m making you some dinner. You’re not a vegan or any of that bullshit, are you?”
“‘Veganism isn’t bullshit. I have friends back home who are—”
“Yes or no is fine.”
Maddie opened her mouth in indignation, still in disbelief that he was talking to her like that.
“No, I’m not.”
He nodded. “Make yourself comfortable. Should be a half-hour or so.”
With that, he went into the kitchen. Maddie heard the sharp crack-hiss of another beer opening, followed by the rustle of Scorn getting ingredients together.
And once she was alone, her eyes tracked through the room, noting all the garbage. She hopped up out of her seat and went into the kitchen. The space was cleaner than the living room, but still not up to her standards.
“You have a garbage bag?” she asked.
“Huh?” Scorn was in the middle of laying out what looked to be steak.
“A garbage bag. If I’m going to be hanging out in the room, I’m going to clean it up.”
He shrugged again before reaching under the sink and taking out a box of black garbage bags. He tossed it over without a word, and Maddie watched him assemble the ingredients for a moment, savoring the sight of his bare torso, before leaving.
What the hell is going on here? she asked herself as she collected bottle after bottle, can after can. The contract of my life is happening right now, and here I am, ogling some drunk older man in the woods.
It took her about twenty minutes and two full bags before she was done. When the cans and bottles had been collected, the room was, according to her standards, barely acceptable. A bookshelf was against the wall, the shelves packed with colorful spines. Maddie hopped up and went over to it, dragging her finger along the dusty books.
There were classics like Les Mis and A Tale of Two Cities—the sort of fare that she wouldn’t have expected from a man like Scorn.
Then again, I supposed I don’t know what kind of man he really is.
Her hand went to her pocket as she stood, her heart sinking when she realized her phone wasn’t there. For lack of anything else to do, Maddie took a copy of Moby Dick from the shelf. And as she pulled it out, a picture slid from between the two books.
Maddie picked it up and saw that it was a picture of Scorn many years ago, of him and some woman in what looked to be happier times. They held each other close, warm smiles on both of their faces. She’d only known Scorn for a short time, but even so, she knew it was strange to see him smiling like that.
“Food’s ready.”
Maddie shoved the picture back into the shelf, turning on her heels to see Scorn standing at the entrance to the room. He had on a shirt now, a tight, black one, the sleeves clinging to the muscles of his arms. She had no idea if he’d seen her, and he didn’t stand there for long before leaving.
She followed him through the kitchen, the smell of cooking meat lingering in the air, and into a dining room. The table was set for two, and the room was dusty rather than dirty. The plates contained steak and mashed potatoes, with some bread and butter on the side. A bottle of whiskey was in the middle.
“I never use this room,” he said, sitting down at one of the plates.
“I can tell.”
Scorn let out a sigh. “You know, this whole thing would go a hell of a lot easier if you’d learn to keep your smart-ass comments to yourself. You know, considering I saved your life, brought you here, and made you some food, you sure have a way of being all kinds of ungrateful.”
Maddie’s inclination was to sass him right back. But after seeing the picture of Scorn and the woman, a woman who clearly wasn’t around, her attitude toward him had softened.
She didn’t know who this man was, what he’d been through to result in him living there in the wilds like that.
Maddie took a deep breath and sat down.
“Sorry. You’re right. You’ve done...a lot for me. It’s just that this is all strange, and I’m cut off from work and...I don’t know.”
He pushed the bottle of whiskey over to her. “You’ll be back home before you know it. Don’t worry about what can and can’t be done right now. Eat, get some rest, and you’ll be back in the concrete jungle soon enough.”
Maddie knew she hadn’t gone far enough.
“Thank you,” she said. “For everything.”
Scorn cut into his steak, grease and blood pooling underneath it. He popped a slice into his mouth and nodded.
“You can thank me by having a drink with me.” He pushed the bottle closer to her. “You’re a mess of nerves from what happened, and it’ll do you some good.”
As much as Maddie wanted to keep a clear head, some booze sounded good. And a glass of wine or two was part of her evening routine.
“Got anything that’s not Jack Daniels?” she asked.
He snorted and smirked. “Yeah—grab whatever you want from the wine cellar downstairs.”
Maddie narrowed her eyes, then allowed herself a chuckle.
“You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Something like that.”
“And you’re out of your element.”
She nodded.
“And you haven’t told me your name.”
Maddie had been holding it back, not sure of how much of herself she wanted to reveal to Scorn.
But he’d done enough for her already—she figured her name was the least she could offer.
“Maddie,” she said. “Maddie Cooper.”
He nodded as if that had been all he’d wanted to know.
They ate in silence, and the more time she spent near him, the harder it was to ignore the sexual heat she felt from his presence. And more than that, each bite she took of the food wore down her defenses a bit more. She felt...comfortable around him in a way she hadn’t around a man in a long time.
Not since...
What the hell is the deal with this guy? Sure, he’s hot and it’s been a long while since I’ve, well, done anything with a guy. But there’s something more than that.
“Good?” he asked once they both were about done with their meals.
Maddie glanced down and saw her plate was clean—she’d demolished her meal.
“Hit the spot. Thanks.”
He nodded.
“Come on—I like a drink before bed.”
“You seem to like a drink always,” she said with a sly grin.
He chuckled. “Fair enough.”
He rose, taking their plates and the bottle of whiskey, setting the plates in the sink and holding the bottle of whiskey under his arm. He plopped onto the couch, and Maddie sat next to him. He opened the bottle, took a long pull, and handed it over, his eyes on the fire.
“What the hell are you doing out here, Maddie Cooper?” he asked.
She took a small sip of whiskey, the booze burning on the way down.
“It�
��s...a long story. A friend told me to come out here.”
“Out here?” he asked. “Specifically here?”
Maddie nodded. “Yeah. She said this was the prettiest scenery in the state.”
She passed the bottle back over, and his eyes still on the flames, Scorn took another sip.
“What?” she asked.
“Tourists stayed out of this part of the woods for years—decades. It’s why this place was abandoned.”
“Abandoned? Why?”
“They say there’s something in the land itself,” he said. “Something that makes it not safe for humans.”
“Humans?”
His eyes flashed as if he realized he’d said something strange. “Uh, people.”
“But you live here. Why?”
“My reasons are my own. Don’t worry about them.”
She sat up slightly. “I think I have a right to know about the man whose place I’m staying at.”
He smirked that amused smirk once more.
“And why is that? Not enough that I bring you here, clothe you, feed you, make sure that your wounds are taken care of?”
“Just because you do something nice for someone doesn’t mean you don’t owe them answers.”
He laughed. “There you go again. I don’t owe you anything about my life. You’re going to leave tomorrow, and that’ll be the end of my role in your story.”
Something about his words sat poorly with Maddie. For some reason, she didn’t like the idea of never seeing Scorn again.
What the hell was it about this man that drew her in so completely? She wanted more than just his company. She wanted everything—she wanted his body, his cock. And her pussy felt the same way, tingles spreading through her as she sat so near him.
“You’re being stubborn,” she said.
Her words confused her as soon as she’d spoken them. It was almost like she was trying to pick a fight with Scorn.
“I’m not the one being stubborn,” he said. “You’re the bossy city girl who got in over her head and ended up nearly getting herself killed. I’m sure back in Seattle, you’re a big shot, but here, you’re nothing.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “And you’re not nothing here?”