by Lucian Bane
“What, what,” he muttered, petting him while locking the door and looking around. “Any visitors while I was gone? Huh boy?” Solomon peeked out of the windows, searching the trees. What if she was out there in this weather? What if she didn’t know this area and tried to come back and got lost in the woods?
He collapsed onto the chair near the fireplace and held his head, sick with worry. The hammering rain on the metal roof became deafening. God, please protect her until I can find her. Please, I beg you.
He lit a fire in the fireplace to take the chill out of the air. The end of summer was already there. If she was lost in the woods, she might see the smoke. He really should call the police is what he should fucking do. He paced in the small room, pulling his phone out of his pocket and staring at it. Her scared words came to him. No telling. No telling. Along with Miss Mary’s words, iffn you wanna be escorted out in a box.
Tomorrow. If he didn’t get answers, he’d call tomorrow. Put in a missing person’s report to the FBI, he had to.
Chapter Sixteen
An hour later, the rain still hammered down and Solomon lay in bed, staring blindly at the heavy logged ceiling. No, not blindly, he was seeing plenty. He saw Chaos half dead, he saw Chaos crying in the shower in his arms, Chaos smiling, laughing, Chaos wanting his love, Chaos broken hearted when he said no, Chaos pretending she wasn’t devastated.
He clenched his eyes and sat up in bed with the last memory that burned in his skull. Chaos naked, in his bed… wanting to thank him with pleasure. And him rejecting her.
He paced in the small room again, asking himself for the hundredth time, why? Why didn’t he give her what she wanted? Desperately needed? Craved? She was sweet, she was beautiful, God damn she was so fucking beautiful. But she was so badly broken in ways he wasn’t sure he could help.
What if he made it worse? What if he couldn’t help her, what if his love couldn’t fix what was wrong with her?
You fucking lying coward, you’re not afraid to hurt her and you know it. You’re afraid. You’re afraid to be hurt, to try again, to live again.
What had he fucking done? Where did he drive her to in his virgin panic? That’s exactly what that was, Mr. noble, Mr. holy, Mr. do things right. Lying bastard is what he was, he didn’t care about any of that, he cared about not living, not taking another risk that might end him for good, that’s what the righteous Solomon cared about.
Solomon wasn’t sure what time it was when he bolted up in bed, her screams tearing through his head. “Solomon! Solomon!” He flew up and ran for the door, fighting to open it while the wolf barked. Once out, he lunged off the porch and into the yard, looking all around, déjà vu pumping through his brain until he was dizzy. The rain poured down all around as he searched high and low in every tree in every direction. “Chaos!” he roared into the storm, stumbling around the perimeter of the yard. He’d heard her. She was in trouble. “Chaos!” He tripped on a root and quickly stumbled back up as the horror in her scream drove him. Fuck, please, help me God, fucking help me! Help her! He called her name over and over in every direction until he had no more voice.
Exhausted, he stumbled back to the porch and fell onto it. Lying on his back, he shoved a whining Champ away when he tried to lick his face. “Get back inside,” he croaked past the tightness in his chest suffocating him. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, his head lolling. “I’m so sorry.”
Solomon finally dragged himself back inside and locked the door. Not changing out of his soaked clothes, he collapsed onto his bed and didn’t move again until the wolf broke out into rabid barking.
Stumbling up into bright sunlight streaming through the crack in the curtain, he realized he’d slept. The faint sound of a motor hit his ears and sent him lunging for his shotgun. Heart hammering in his chest, he peeked out the window, eying the driveway while the wolf barked with his mouth at the bottom of the door like something was there.
Solomon leaned and looked down on the porch and his breath froze. A body. Sprawled and naked. The second he saw red hair, he flew to the door and fought to unlock it. Yanking it open, he hurried out. “Oh fuck!” he gasped, setting the gun down and roving trembling hands over her body then looking around. At seeing the woods empty, he turned to her. “Chaos,” he barely whispered, panic hitting him at seeing her eyes open and staring. Oh God, oh God. He placed two trembling fingers on her neck and let out a gasp at finding an erratic pulse, hammering beneath the skin. She was alive. She was fucking alive. And traumatized.
Tears clouded his vision as he lifted her carefully into his arms. “I got you, I’m going to bring you inside where it’s warm, okay? Why did you leave, why?” The whisper strained out as he hurried. “Guard,” he commanded Champ hoarsely as he kicked open the door. “Kill if somebody comes!”
The wolf bounded out on the porch and lay down as though he understood fully. Solomon carried her to the bed to lay her down, quickly covering her. “I got you, Beautiful. I got you. You’re safe now, nobody’s going to hurt you,” he choked out.
She lay there with her eyes just staring, body lethargic and in a catatonic state.
Solomon petted her softly, still looking for wounds. He nearly vomited when he saw the burn marks at her temples. Covering his mouth briefly, he pressed his face next to hers, clenching his eyes tight. They’d shocked her. They’d fucking shocked her. Oh God, he was going to kill whoever did this to her. “Shhh, I got you Beautiful.”
****
There was nobody to call except his uncle and he wasn’t about to drag him into this crazy shit. Especially if the whole town was that sick. Solomon paced around in his cabin for about an hour before he concluded he had only one safe option.
Hurrying through the cabin, he packed everything he could, including the items he’d bought for Chaos, into the two duffle bags he owned. He needed to be gone already is what he needed, the second they’d dropped her off.
After getting everything in the truck, he put the baby possum in his cage on the front seat and came back for Chaos. “Ready, Beautiful?” He scooped her up and hurried her out, buckling her in the seat belt while a brisk north wind whipped at his hair. “We’re going to take a ride to my other home town, okay?” He looked at Champ who sat on the porch with his head angled at him. “Come on boy,” he patted the bed of the truck, “let’s go.”
The wolf ran and leapt into the back and Solomon hurried to the driver door and got in. “Our first little road trip,” he said lightly, getting his seat belt on then slapping the lock down on his door. Grabbing the steering wheel, he looked carefully around at the woods, starting the truck. The growl of the engine lasted two seconds then choked. His heart began to hammer as he turned it over again, listening to it struggle for endless seconds. Fucking no.
Undoing his seatbelt, he opened the door. Immediately the wind whipped up the smell of gas and Solomon dropped to the ground near the gas tank. His heart jolted at seeing multiple leaks. His eyes adjusted and panic hit him at finding the copper fuel line full of gashes. Another look at the fuel tank showed several gouges.
Solomon bolted up from the ground and yanked the door open. Grabbing his shotgun while looking all around, he made his way to the cabin and opened the door before racing back to unbuckle Chaos. “Change of plans,” he said, trying not to sound panicked as he hurried her back inside. He ran for the possum and the wolf next then locked the cabin door, double checking the windows after.
They were fucking out there. Hiding. Watching.
He paced a few times then raced to the window again, looking. When had they done this? He realized they could have when they dropped her off. “Fuck,” he gasped, pulling his phone out of his pocked. Hurrying to his uncle’s number he hit send, fighting to steady his breaths while eying the perimeter of the yard.
Four long rings and finally a “Well hello stranger.”
“Aunt Sarah?” Solomon gasped, careful to keep it cheery. “Is Uncle Joe around?”
“Standing here waiting f
or the phone.”
“Ahhh thank you. I love you,” he quickly added.
“Was beginning to think you’d drowned in a lake up there.”
“Uncle Joe,” Solomon gasped at hearing his deep voice.
“What’s wrong, son?”
“Uhh, I’ve got some… real trouble here.” Solomon paced around the room while peeking out both windows as he ran down the loose version of the horror story.
At the mention of cut fuel lines, Uncle Joe cut in with, “I’m on my way. I know how to get there, I’ll be at your door in about four hours. Meanwhile, call the police.”
“I don’t think so,” Solomon whispered. “Not unless I want to be escorted out in a box Miss Mary said.”
A few seconds of silence preceded his uncle’s muttered, “Holy shit.”
Solomon nodded in agreement. “Bring your guns, the hunting is… real good up here.” He checked the windows again.
“Hang tight son. Stay inside. I’ll get some outside heat on this.”
“Just… wait on that. To be on the safe side.”
He sighed. “Fine then. Till I get there.”
“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll be waiting.”
He hung up and Solomon paced some more, looking around. What would he do if the nuts showed up? He needed a plan. He regarded Chaos then. No matter what he decided to do, he definitely needed her to be awake.
****
Four hours later, Solomon’s phone rang. “Uncle Joe?”
“Damn truck got two flats outside of town. Tow’s on its way, I’ll get a ride to a rental. You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, closing his eyes. “Just hurry.”
“Yes sir, hold tight.”
“Pray uncle Joe.”
“Never stopped.”
Solomon nodded and sighed. “See you soon.”
His uncle hung up and everything inside Solomon quaked with dread. Something bad was up. He could feel it.
An hour later, he called his uncle when he still hadn’t arrived. At getting the phone’s voice mail, panic slammed him. “Fuck, come on.” His hands trembled as he dialed again, only to get the same shit. He walked in mindless circles hitting re-dial over and over until he was sure of it. Something had happened to him.
“God please,” he gasped, putting his palm to his forehead. “Please keep Uncle Joe safe, please.” He looked around realizing then.
They were stranded. Cornered. And Chaos was practically unconscious.
He thought of where he could go carrying her? Miss Mary’s? Bring this shit to her door? He hurried over to Chaos and sat on the bed next to her.
“Hey, hey.” He tapped her face back and forth making it loll from side to side. “I need you to wake up, Beautiful, I need you awake. I need to talk to you, we’ve got trouble, okay?” She didn’t respond and Solomon’s panic surged as he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her a little. “Chaos,” he yelled. “Wake up! I need you to wake up dammit, we’re in trouble, can you hear me?”
He stared at the blank look in her eyes that laughed at the threat of trouble. She knew trouble, didn’t she? He suddenly pulled away from the bed and looked around. Going to the duffle bag, he found a pair of the new panties he’d gotten her and went back to the bed. “This is the deal, Chaos.” He worked the underwear around her feet then slid them up her legs, keeping the sheet on her. “You’ve been through some trauma and your mind is protecting itself.” Hurrying to the table next, he grabbed a chair and raced it to the bathroom. “But I need your mind to realize the trauma is over,” he yelled to her, putting the chair in the shower and turning on the water. Racing back to the bed, he removed the sheet. “I need you to wake up now,” he said, scooping her lethargic limbs up and hurrying with her to the shower.
“Look at me,” he said, carefully working his way into the small shower with her. “Showering you, feeding you. I charge for this type of service, you know.” He sat in the chair and adjusted her dead limbs in his lap, reaching up and angling the water right on her.
“You’ll take a nice warm shower and that’ll help you feel better. And maybe I’ll manage to soap off some of my own stink while I’m at it. Clothes and all. Three birds with one stone.” He smoothed her hair as the water soaked her. “Your baby possum is doing great by the way,” he said softly. “He does need a name though,” he whispered, adjusting her weight when she began to topple right. “I was thinking he looked like a Raphael. Or if it’s a girl we can name her Rachel, which is… the sister name for Raphael. And I just made that up.” He stroked her back and arm with the water while hugging her close to him, shaking her every few seconds.
“I was going to make those brownies too,” he murmured. “I never got around to it. You’ll love that, I’m an expert with all things chocolate.” Solomon kissed the top of her head while praying life back into her limbs. “I was thinking too,” he whispered, “of opening a type of zoo. Solomon’s Zoo.” He smiled and tilted her face a little to see her eyes, see if there was any recognition happening. While looking at her, his chest clenched impossibly hard with how empty and broken she was. “I’ll need an assistant for that and was hoping you’d take the job. I’ll…” Solomon realized he needed her for more than an assistant. “I’ll need a friend.” He gasped and kissed her forehead. “I really need a friend,” he said, as he remembered how hungry and desperate she’d been for love. No, for his love.
He petted her face, studying every perfect feature. She hadn’t even known she was beautiful. A burning heat gripped his chest as buried emotions and needs flooded in. He wanted it, God he did. He wanted it more than anything, he realized. To show her, to love her, to cherish her. The way she deserved and craved. She’d called him. Him. Called him from a horrific trauma, called him so loud that it reached him in his dreams.
He tightened his embrace, wishing the revelation had gotten through to him before this. “I’m here now,” he gasped in her ear, praying she heard him. “I got you and I’m not ever letting you go again, Beautiful.”
Chapter Seventeen
After an hour of hot and cold water, and no response, Solomon was ready to scream. He carried her out of the shower, devising a plan to wake her from the mental safe zone she was stuck in. Problem was, his brief studies about psychosis his masseur classes touched on, did little for him. He knew he could accidentally trigger the wrong response, but did it really matter in the situation they were in?
He debated dressing her then decided to just cover her with the sheet. He hurried back to the bathroom and found the small bottle of vitamin E lotion he had left over from his masseur days and brought it to the bed. Rolling her onto her stomach, he covered the bottom half of her body with the sheet and began working the lotion into her back, using light rapid touch to stimulate.
With no success, he moved the sheet off her legs while keeping her butt covered, and worked the nonresponsive limbs for five minutes the same way, chatting about everything from zoo plans to cooking classes and flower gardens.
Again, no response. Nothing.
He finally stopped and just sat there, staring at her while fighting the dread eating his gut. Now what? Now fucking what?
Pushing his exhaustion back, he realized it was getting cold. He’d get the cabin warm. Try feeding her again. “You doing okay?” he asked Champ as he put a couple of logs in the fireplace. “You’re probably hungry too?” Scratching the wolf’s ear, he straightened and glanced at the bed to a still blank staring Chaos. Dropping his head, he slowly removed his wet shirt, ignoring the ache in his body that said he was trying to catch something he couldn’t afford to at this time. Pausing with his hands on his jeans, he debated removing them. Angling his gaze at her, he wondered if she could see anything. Maybe if she could… then it would help wake her up.
Jesus, he was down to molesting the catatonic woman.
He walked to the dresser, again wondering what he would do if they showed up. More like when. He’d blow as many holes as he could through whoever came. What if
there was more than one? What if there were many? What if they’d gotten Uncle Joe? What did they want from them? From her?
He angled his head toward her again and the molestation option presented itself once more. Stop calling it molestation, it could just be… you. He sighed and gave up trying to find a nice term for it then opened the drawer and pulled out a pair of his best looking briefs for the task. He removed his jeans, keeping his back to her then climbed in the new pair, nearly tripping as he did. Way to go, Sexy.
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her as he made his way to the bed and sat. Should he at least warn her what he was going to try? The idea seemed worse.
God this felt wrong on so many levels. He allowed himself to imagine the door bursting open and both of them being dragged to God only knew, where they did things he never wanted to think about.
Was a sordid kind of foreplay, but it damn well got him in the mood.
Lying next to her, exactly next to her, he allowed his naked body to touch hers. At not getting anything, he pulled her close to him then wrapped her in his limbs.
For the first time, he allowed himself to feel her. No, not for the first time, he’d allowed it before, just not with this on his mind. He resisted the shame of how hungry his body was to cooperate. Just be glad it is and focus on the task.
“Come on, Beautiful,” he whispered, stroking her back with his hand. When he reached her butt, he hesitated then let it glide over the damp panties. His body came instantly alive at the idea he was touching her there. He stroked very softly down her leg next then moved back up over her butt. Traveling up, along her back, he ended at her face then repositioned himself so he could look into her blank eyes while touching her.
Hand back on her back, he pulled her chest close to his. He let go of a gasp at the feel of her naked breasts and cold nipples against his hot chest. He looked down and the sight of it added to his growing hunger.