Woke Up Dead

by Tina Wainscott

  Now she could see that hint of smile he’d surely had when she’d fallen on her butt. She’d forgotten about those deep blue eyes, the way they slanted up complemented by the arch of his eyebrows. She’d forgotten how much his smile had meant to her way back when, like a rare gemstone glittering out of ordinary dust. He reached out, and she readied herself for his touch against her cheek. Instead, he removed a leaf from her hair.

  “Good to see you again, Katie.”

  “Me, too. I mean, it’s good to see you, too.” She rolled her eyes, mortified at the way he was throwing her off. “How’d you know I was there?”

  He shrugged. “Just a feeling.”

  All she could do was nod, though she wasn’t sure she bought it. Still, she was the interloper here, so she had no basis to demand more of an answer.

  He walked over to a cooler on the steps. “Want a drink?”

  “I don’t really drink,” she said, imagining a bottle of beer. Instead he lifted out a bottle of water.

  “At all?” he asked, looking so genuinely perplexed that she knew he was pulling her leg.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” The way her stomach was dancing, she didn’t trust even water. “What are you doing back here? I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.” Looking at him as she spoke softened her words to the consistency of butter.

  He studied her for a moment. “Did you want to see me again?”

  “Yes,” she answered too quickly. “I mean, I wanted to…I felt bad. I felt responsible for the sheriff finding out about your dad. If you hadn’t taken me to see him about pressing charges, he probably wouldn’t have found out.”

  This time he did touch her face, trailing a finger along her jawline before dropping his hand. His touch raised a trail of goose bumps on her arms. “It wasn’t your fault. It was my decision to go in with you. My choice.”

  “But you did it for me.”

  “My choice.”

  You never helped anyone else. Why me? “What happened to you?”

  He leaned back against the column. A gold cross, two simple bars he wore on a chain, caught the light. She wondered if it was the same cross he’d worn before. “They sent me away to a foster family in Adgateville. I figured all they wanted was someone to tend the garden and fix up the house. I took off, went to Atlanta.”

  She leaned against the column across from him. “I tried to find out where you were. No one would tell me.”

  He took a drink of water and set the bottle down. “It’s hard to be resourceful at nine. Were the Emersons good to you? I was afraid they were going to work you to death, too.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “How’d you know where I went?”

  “Fifteen-year-olds are more resourceful. I checked on you once in a while. Came back a few times.”

  “Came here? To Flatlands?”

  The lines of his face had sharpened over the years. With his shaggy hair and easy posture, he still reminded her of a wolf. He nodded. “When I ran away from Adgateville, I came here first. I wanted to make sure you were all right. The Emersons wouldn’t let me see you. I knew Ben wouldn’t help me. When I came back later, you were about to marry him.”

  For a moment, she felt a prick of guilt, as though she’d let Silas down by marrying Ben. Ridiculous, since Silas hadn’t come to propose to her. She shivered at the thought of meeting him when she’d been eighteen. He probably would have been somewhere between the lanky teen and the man he was now. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She’d been promised to Ben, had belonged to him since she was nine in one way or another. She owed him so much.

  Followed by the guilt was a melancholy sense of something missed. Of opportunity lost.

  “You could have come to see me then,” she said.

  He stretched, touching high up on the column. His fingers were long, but not terribly work worn. “No, I couldn’t.”

  She had the most perverse urge to touch him, to press her hand against the planes of his stomach and up to the ridge of his rib cage. With his body stretched long, there was a gap between his skin and the waistband of his jeans. She stopped her thoughts and promised to never read another Cosmo magazine again.

  “Where are you staying?” she asked.

  “Here.”

  She pushed away from the column and walked toward the open doorway. It looked cleaner now, devoid of the disintegrating carpet and draperies. Two wall sconces and three lamps filled the parlor with light. Odd that the electricity was on. Three boxes of hardware supplies lined the wall. The once-elegant room with its high ceilings adorned with intricate molding now looked sadly empty. She couldn’t tell where he slept.

  What she thought was a pile of brown carpet struggled to its feet and ambled over to inspect her. The big dog was a hound mix of some sort, old and cumbersome. His nose twitched as he covered her hand with dog moisture. His face was sprinkled liberally in white hair, as were his big feet.

  “That’s The Boss. He’s named after Bruce Springstein.”

  “You a fan?” she said, scratching the dog’s head.

  “He came with the name. I’ve only had him a couple of years. His owner died, and there wasn’t anyone else who could take him.”

  Finished with his inspection, The Boss settled down at Silas’s feet with a sigh.

  “He might have arthritis,” she said, taking in the way he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. “You might want to have him checked over.”

  “He’s already on medication for it, and my vet taught me how to massage his paws when the pain reliever doesn’t seem to work.” Silas ran his fingers lightly over the dog’s head. “I wonder how much pain he’s in. I’m not sure I could put him down, though.”

  “It’s a hard thing to do, but sometimes it’s for the best.” She knelt down and looked into The Boss’s cloudy eyes. “What bothers me most is when people can’t bear to be with their pets during those last few minutes.” She held his snout in her hand and stroked his nose. “After all they do for us, the least we can do is be the last, loving face they see.”

  After a moment of silence, she realized how out of place she was for being so emotional about that. “Not that I’m condemning those people. I just see it from the animal’s point of view.”

  He was still regarding her with those intent eyes. “You’re right, though. It’s a tough thing to do, but we owe them that much. I bet you have a lot of pets.”

  “Not really. Ben said after being with animals all day, he wants peace and quiet at home.”

  She scanned the dusty oak floors. “Why are you fixing this place up? Some corporation owns it now.”

  “This was my home once. I didn’t feel like staying at a hotel. Besides, I want to keep a low-profile.”

  When she turned back to him, he was standing just behind her. Having him this close was doing strange things to her insides. She could feel the heat coming off him, elevating the temperature inside the house.

  She kept her gaze on the gold cross that rested against the hollow of his collarbone. “Low profile, huh?”

  “You’ll recall I wasn’t exactly popular here.”

  Spooky Silas. “I wouldn’t know anything about being popular.” She took a step back, feeling awkward as she crossed, then uncrossed her arms. “I’m not in the town loop myself. Not that I want to be,” she added quickly, feeling like a failure at making friends. Feeling unlovable.

  “You live at old lady Babbage’s place.”

  She nodded, giving up asking him how he knew. “I was in the back yard when I heard your saw.”

  “Where’s Ben?”

  “Helping a farmer with a foaling mare.”

  “He good to you?”

  It took her a second to realize what he was asking. “Very. He helped me through some tough years.”

  His eyes darkened for a moment, as though he blamed himself for not being there for her. Which was ridiculous since he didn’t owe her anything, and he’d only been a teenager himself. “Good. As long as you’re happy.”

&nbs
p; “I am happy. Very happy.” The words shot out of her mouth. “I have what I wanted all my life: security. Though Mama gave me a lot of emotional security, we didn’t always have money for the bills. With the Emersons, I always knew I’d have food and a roof over my head, even if I did have to share that roof with six other kids and a room with two sisters who weren’t particularly happy about the addition to the family. I’m sure they thought I wasn’t going to pull my share of the load. I worked harder than any of them to prove myself.”

  He was standing too close, watching her too intently. She stepped back again. “Anyway, Ben was there through all of it. Marrying him was natural.” Expected.

  He merely nodded, keeping his opinion from his face, but the way he was looking at her… “As long as you’re happy. That’s all that’s important.” His soft voice belied that soul-searching look in his eyes.

  “I am.” She looked at the house again. “How long are you going to be staying here? Looks like for a while.”

  “I don’t stay anywhere for long.”

  She tried to tamp down the disappointment that he’d be leaving soon. No, it was good that he was leaving soon. She didn’t need this, this strange feeling of having him close. To add to her discomfort, he swept her with his gaze and said, “You grew up good, Katie.”

  She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Thanks.” It seemed silly, not to mention unwise, to reciprocate the compliment, so she left it at that. Still, she wondered what he’d meant by it. She wasn’t a scrawny kid anymore, but she wasn’t overly attractive, either. She waved toward the doorway. “I should probably get going, in case Ben calls or comes home. I don’t want to worry him.”

  He followed her down the steps. “I’ll walk you back.”

  “You don’t have—” She abruptly turned around, sending him crashing into her. For a moment their bodies connected, her breasts to his chest, thigh to thigh. He grabbed her arms to catch her balance. She laughed, because it was the only way to release the pressure building inside her. “Sorry about that. I didn’t realize you were so”—she took note of his hands on her arms—”close behind me.”

  He also seemed to realize he was still holding onto her and let go.

  “You don’t have to walk me back. You’re busy, and I know the way. After all, I got here alone, didn’t I?”

  “I’d still feel better walking with you.”

  She could see the stubborn set of his jaw and gave in with a nod. She started walking into the bosom of the forest, and he walked with her.

  “You always wander around in the woods at night?” he asked a few minutes later.

  “Not at night. When I have time on the weekend, I go for walks.”

  “Be careful, Katie. You never know what’s out here.”

  Like you, she wanted to say. She was still caught up in his warning, the propriety of it. “I suppose that’s true.”

  As she neared her yard, she started worrying that Ben might be there. He got so funny when he couldn’t find her. He liked to keep tabs on her because he cared about her. She stopped just shy of the gazebo.

  She didn’t know what to say as she stood facing him. “I’d invite you in, but…”

  “I understand.”

  She started to say something else when he brushed his hand over her hair. Just a casual touch, the way a husband would touch a wife. As though she belonged to him. She shivered at the thought. “Silas…” The words died in her throat at hearing the pleading tone in that one word. She cleared her throat and her head. “It was good to see you again. Stop by the hospital sometime and say hello.”

  “Sure, I’ll do that,” he said in the way one does when they don’t mean it.

  This would probably be the last time she’d talk to him. She wanted to give him a hug, something to show him how much he’d meant to her all those years ago. Instead, she said, “I’m sorry about, well, about everything.”

  He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, moving close enough to force her to look up at him. His touch, casual though it was, sent a peculiar warmth down her body, as though someone had poured warm molasses over her head. “Don’t blame yourself. I told you, what I did was my choice.” He looked away for a moment, then back at her. “You probably don’t even know what you gave me that day.”

  “Gave you? Trouble maybe.”

  He didn’t smile at her lame attempt at a joke. “You trusted me, Katie. You were the first person to ever trust me.” He brushed her chin with his knuckles and backed away. Then he disappeared into the night.

  Silas watched her touch her chin as she walked into the house. He saw her briefly in the door window as she searched for him. She was gone just as quickly. He made it back to his house in half the time. He didn’t want her to know how many times he’d made this trip, so he’d let her lead the way.

  She might have trusted him before, but she had no reason to trust him now.

  He went back to trimming the wood so he could reset the front door. Was Katie still listening to the sound of the saw? He never imagined that she could hear him from this distance or especially that she’d walk over to check it out. She hadn’t lost her adventurousness, that was for sure.

  Sawdust coated his forearm as he finished the cut. He hoped she couldn’t see how astounded he was to find her there. He’d been no less attracted to her than she was to him. He suspected that if they’d met when she was in her late teens, there would be a certain chemistry between them. She’d grown up to be a beautiful young woman, though that was hardly a surprise. With her glossy brown hair and wide-set brown eyes, she wasn’t a classic beauty, but she was enchanting all the same. She was still thin, and her arms were still long. Her birthmark was partially hidden by the man shirt she wore. Perfect in her own way.

  She was the reason he’d come back. Not for the attraction, he assured himself. God, how he’d wanted to just take her in his arms, though. He shook his head, sending a faint shower of sawdust spiraling to the ground. To touch her, to hold her…even the brief touches he’d been compelled to take had sent a rush through him.

  He walked back to the doorway with the finished wood. The Boss was standing in the opening, as though contemplating whether he wanted to walk the distance to where Silas had been cutting. Silas set the wood against the doorway and sat down on the top step. The Boss wandered over and settled down with his head on Silas’s thigh. Poor old guy. He was probably too old to be hauling around with him, but Silas just didn’t have the heart to give him away or worse, send him to a shelter. He had to know that someone would give him his arthritis medication, had to know that someone would stand by him when the time came to say goodbye.

  Silas massaged The Boss’s paws and then his back legs. “What’d you think of Katie, big guy? Pretty cute, huh?”

  The dog let out a sigh, agreement if Silas ever heard it.

  Katie. Even though he hadn’t spoken with her in eighteen years, she’d been part of him for so long, he felt as though she somehow belonged to him. He had to remind himself that she didn’t. There was no way he and Katie could get involved. Her being married presented one problem. All those years ago in Atlanta, living on the streets at times, he’d found God. Or maybe God had found him. Either way, religion had given him the hope and belief to fight his way off the streets, and then to deal with the horrors he’d witnessed since then.

  He respected Katie’s vow of marriage, even though she wasn’t happy with Ben. Not really happy, anyway. From their encounter tonight, he knew that sweeping her off her feet wouldn’t be hard, but that’s not what he wanted. Putting her through that kind of turmoil would be too hard on both of them. His reasons for coming back were purely unselfish.

  The Boss snorted, as if to contradict him.

  “Totally unselfish, my friend.” He glanced at the place where he’d found Katie lurking. He couldn’t have her for himself, and that was something he’d accepted long ago.

  Something else invaded his tumultuous feelings. He recognized it right away, the insidi
ous way the evil quietly lurked at the edge of his consciousness. Stop, he ordered, knowing he could only allay it temporarily. It moved relentlessly forward, the anticipation of cruel pleasure, the thrill of the hunt, salivation at the prospect of fulfillment.

  He’d been such a good boy, coloring inside the lines.

  Black and white, good and evil.

  Reward time.

  Not now. Silas wanted to savor the effect seeing Katie had on him for a while longer.

  Soon those bittersweet thoughts eroded away, giving full reign to the sadistic ones that had haunted him for years. He knew the pattern, knew it was hopeless to shove them away. He walked to his vehicle. He felt the pull and knew he was powerless to stop it. Just like the other times.

  He was glad Katie hadn’t asked him why he’d come back. He wasn’t prepared to tell her the truth or a lie. There were things he had to do first, one of them earning her trust. You couldn’t just throw that kind of thing at someone the first time you’d seen her in eighteen years. Hi, Katie. You’re looking well. Me, I’m fine. By the way, someone wants to finish off your life in the most heinous way you can possibly imagine. And it’s someone you know.

  Read more: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_12?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=unforgivable+tina+wainscott&sprefix=UNFORGIVABLE

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  SNEAK PEEK: UNFORGIVABLE CHAPTER 1

  SNEAK PEEK: UNFORGIVABLE CHAPTER 2