by B. J. Scott
After tending to her needs, Katherine padded to the door and peered into the hallway. Still a little dizzy and wobbly on her feet, she clung to the doorframe for support and raised a shaky hand to her tangled mass of hair. Dressed in an old flimsy nightgown and wearing a tattered piece of fabric for a shawl, her hair a wild mess, and hiking boots, she imagined she must look affright. Not that she had to impress anyone.
A low rumble erupted from her belly, reminding Katherine it had been a while since she’d eaten. Aside from the granola bar she munched on in the car, she’d gone at least twenty-four hours, if not longer, without a proper meal. The lawyers told her they’d stocked the croft with food and anything else she might need, so she decided it was time to find out.
Katherine traveled down the hallway, coming to an abrupt halt when she reached the parlor door. She wasn’t even sure this was her aunt’s croft and could very well be trespassing. But the unmistakable scent of coffee and what smelled like fresh bread wafting toward her from the kitchen was too inviting to ignore. “A person’s mind can play some cruel tricks,” she mumbled. Yet, regardless if real or imaginary, she was summoned by the delectable aromas and unable to resist temptation. Wasting no time, she quietly moved through the parlor and entered the back room of the croft.
A fire blazed on the hearth, warmth enveloping her. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing the scent of peat smoke, fresh baking, and spices to fill her lungs. If she wasn’t standing upright, she’d swear she was still dreaming.
Moving to the hearth, she lifted the lid from a cast-iron pot, pleased to find it filled with oatmeal. She had no idea who’d made it, or if she was welcomed to sample any, but tucked her manners aside in favor of a taste.
A large wooden stick with a carved thistle-shaped handle protruded from the mixture. A spurtle, she recalled her grandmother calling it, as a wave of nostalgia washed over her. According to Grand, these Scottish hardwood stirring sticks had been used since before the fourteenth centuries for mixing stews, soups, and porridge.
Katherine absently licked her lips, remembering breakfasts she’d shared with her grandmother when she was still a child. Laced with a dash of honey, cinnamon, and a fistful of raisins, the oatmeal Grand made was great. There had been a spurtle just like this one hanging on the wall of her kitchen, one she claimed had belonged to her mother — Katherine’s great-grandmother. When she raised her gaze, she noticed a clan crest carved into the mantle. She brushed away the soot with her hand and squinted so she could read the name. It said Grant. This had to be Glen Heather. Her new home.
Pleased to learn she’d landed in the right place, she chuckled. If asked, she’d have had to admit she was beginning to feel like Goldilocks and expected three bears to crash through the door at any moment. But she wasn’t trespassing after all and this food must have been meant for her. But the question still remained — who made it? And why wasn’t she informed of their presence in advance?
Her stomach still rumbling, she dipped a ladle into the pot, withdrew a scoop of oats and sampled it. She closed her eyes and moaned aloud. Not only was it real, it was the best she’d ever eaten.
After filling a wooden bowl she’d found on the shelf by the hearth, she faced the table. Atop the rustic piece of furniture sat the wooden box she’d received from the lawyers, her purse, and carry-on bag. She’d placed them there when she first arrived and prior to warming herself by the fire. In addition, she noticed a platter of cheese and fruit, a small loaf of bread, and an iron pot she prayed contained coffee. She’d kill for a cup about now.
“One night down and six to go,” she mumbled as she lifted the lid on the pot, then poured the dark liquid into a pewter mug and took a sip. Unlike any coffee she’d ever tasted, the steaming brew with its pungent aroma and unusual flavor hit the spot and satisfied her cravings for caffeine.
While she sat at the table, enjoying her meal, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she wasn’t alone and that someone was watching her from the shadows. Nor could she stop thinking about her erotic dream. She’d awakened feeling satisfied, cherished, and fulfilled, the way she imagined it would always be with a man who truly adored and valued her as a partner. A man who cared more about pleasing his lover than himself.
Katherine frowned. She’d initially been attracted to Ethan and he’d done is utmost to convince her that he was a gentleman and cared deeply about her. He did have some good qualities and she might have ended up married to him had he not shown his true colors.
He was devastatingly handsome and extremely fit, she’d give him that. But looks were only skin deep, and beauty faded with age. She was a well-educated woman, capable of making a good living. An only child, she’d inherited both her parents’ and grandmother’s estates when they passed away, so she didn’t care about his wealth.
They did share a similar work ethic, and for the most part got along well. But now that she thought about their relationship, there wasn’t enough on which to base a marriage. Was she that desperate for love and male companionship that she was willing to settle for an empty shell? Had she led him on to believe she could? Maybe she was as much to blame for the problems as he was.
His interest in her was equally perplexing. She hadn’t really thought about it at the time, but was now certain it must have been the conquest and her reluctance to accept when he first asked her out that prompted his relentless pursuit. It wasn’t because he felt a genuine physical or emotional connection, although he claimed both were there. But if what he said was true, he’d have trusted her. He would never have accused her of infidelity, and striking her would never be an option. She was the forbidden fruit so-to-speak, his desire compounded by his inability and refusal to accept rejection. She’d found out the truth about his personality the hard way, but was glad she did before they’d married.
Katherine closed her eyes, wincing as she recalled their last moments together, and his threat to track her down if she dared to leave him.
~ * ~
“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not attracted to your partner, and we are not having an affair behind your back, Ethan.” Katherine threw her hands up in frustration. She had never seen this irate, irrational side of him before tonight and wasn’t quite sure how to handle such a volatile situation. He’d always been so cool, calm, and collected. He was known for his charm and finesse. His eruption at the party took her completely by surprise. Fortunately, she’d managed to get him to leave the party before all hell broke loose. Judging by the shocked expression on George’s face when his longtime friend and partner flew into his fit of rage, he was equally taken aback by the erratic behavior. Ethan had not only manhandled her in front of the other guests, but threatened to kill George if he didn’t back off when he came to her aid.
“You’re a liar, Katherine. Just like my sleazy partner. Neither of you can be trusted,” Ethan roared. “I know what I saw, so there is no point denying it.”
“Why won’t you listen to me? George is married. He loves Sharon and they have a baby on the way.”
“What the hell has that got to do with anything? Woman and men have been screwing behind their partners’ backs for eons,” he snapped.
Her attempts to calm him down and explain that he was overreacting, fell on deaf ears. He’d escalated to the point where he’d believe nothing she had to say. Ethan had flown into a tirade of insults and accusations because she danced with George at the surprise party his wife had thrown for his birthday. When she’d dragged him out of the hall, she’d honestly hoped some fresh air might help to clear his head and quiet him down. But if anything, his anger grew, and she was subjected to the rantings of a madman the entire way home.
She was thankful he hadn’t challenged her for the keys to his Ferrari. He never let anyone drive his prized car, but was obviously too drunk and too caught up in his ranting to realize what was happening. But when they arrived at his condo, things quickly changed. He snatched the keys from her hand, grabbed her wrist, and storm
ed toward the door — dragging her with him.
“Get inside, you ungrateful bitch.” He shoved her into the foyer of their condo ahead of him and slammed the door behind them. Her heart pounding, she wrenched free of his hold and quickly put some distance between them. “You had a lot to drink tonight and what you need is a good night’s sleep. I’m sure this will look different in the morning, and will all be forgotten.” She lied. She was no fool and this incident would never be forgotten. Not by her or anyone who’d attended the party. After tonight, she’d not only lost all respect for the man, but she no longer felt safe in his presence. Once she’d convinced him to go to bed, she planned to leave. The engagement was over as far as she was concerned and she’d come back for her stuff when it was safer.
Ethan glowered back at her and clenched his fist, his neck veins bulging, his cold blank stare making the hairs on neck stand on end.
“Bullshit! I’ve not had nearly enough to drink. Besides which, why should I listen to a whore who has no sense of shame or loyalty?” Ethan growled and took a menacing step in her direction, catching her off guard with a backhanded slap that sent her careening to the floor. He then moved to the table, picked up a decanter of Merlot and took a swig.
“Ethan, please. Put the wine down and go take a shower.”
“Shut up!” he growled. “I’ll deal with you and then I’ll take care of my so-called partner.” He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth before taking another drink.
Cupping her stinging cheek, Katherine glared up at him from her position on the floor. She’d never been struck by a man and swore the first time would be the last. She’d been given a glimpse of the real Ethan Cochran and she didn’t like what she saw. “I think you’ve had more than enough to drink, and the hit of cocaine you did in the men’s room has messed up your ability to see the truth. You need to go to bed and sleep it off.”
A loud banging on the door interrupted their argument and a modicum of relief washed over her. She didn’t know who it was, but it really didn’t matter. The distraction might be just enough to bring Ethan to his senses, or at least put an end to his attack.
“Ethan, we need to talk. I know you’re in there.” George pounded on the door again.
“Go away, George. I have nothing to say to a traitorous bastard.”
“Open up, Ethan,” George bellowed. “I’m not leaving until we get things straightened out.”
Katherine rose to a wobbly stance, intent on letting George in so he could hopefully reason with Ethan. But he snagged her around the waist and slammed her against his chest before she could take a step. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Let me go, Ethan.” She struggled to break free of his hold, but to no avail. “Please. Talk to George and together we can settle this. If you’ll just calm down and listen.”
“Why? So you can be with George? That’s the real reason he’s here, isn’t it?” he roared. “First the two of you humiliate me in front of the world, then expect me to sit down and talk. What sort of moron do you take me for?”
“Believe that if you want, Ethan, but you’re wrong,” she replied. “If you think I would have an affair with a married man and be foolish enough to flaunt it in front of you, his wife, and our colleagues from work, then you don’t know me at all. Perhaps we best call off our engagement. I’ll move out tonight,” she blurted, then regretted the words as they left her lips.
Ethan’s stare darkened as he wrapped his hand around her throat and began to squeeze. “I know the truth, and you’re not going anywhere.” He tightened his grip on her neck. “I’d rather kill you than see you with him.”
Gasping for air, the room spinning, Katherine was certain she was going to die if she didn’t do something to stop him. “You’re choking me, Ethan, please let me go,” she begged as she clawed at his hands and struggled to break free. But he refused to relinquish his hold. In a last ditch effort to get away, she brought her knee up with all the force she could muster, catching him the groin.
“Damn you, bitch! You’ll pay for that!” He released her and stumbled backward. Propped against the fireplace, with his head resting on his forearm, he cupped his groin, groaning and cursing.
Katherine crumpled to her knees, wheezing and sputtering as she tried to gulp in some air. She was not a violent person, nor was she one to back down or fall apart in a crisis. But things had gone far beyond reason and she had to do something to defend herself. Unfortunately, she soon realized she’d made things worse when she saw him reach for the fireplace poker.
He spun around to face her with the steel rod clutched in his hand. “You are not going anywhere,” he hissed as he lumbered toward her. “No one leaves me. Ever.”
Prompted by shear panic and aided by a rush of adrenaline, she scrambled to her feet, raced for the door, and turned the lock. “George!”
“He can’t help you. No one can.” Ethan caught her around the waist again and hauled her away from the door, kicking and flailing, before setting her down and delivering another backhand that sent her crashing to the floor.
Hovering on the edge of consciousness, Katherine grappled for something, anything she could use to defend herself. Her fingers found the fireplace poker and she grabbed it. But before she could strike him with it, Ethan hit her again. “I’ve had about enough of this—”
“So have I. Get off her, now.” George burst into the room, dragged Ethan to his feet and spun him around to face him. “I knew you could be an ass, but this time you’ve gone too far. Hitting a woman is where I draw the line.”
“I plan to do a lot more than hit the bitch,” Ethan snarled and threw an uppercut that caught George squarely in the chin.
George, who stood about two inches taller than Ethan and outweighed him by at least twenty pounds, stumbled backward, but managed to remain standing. “One lucky punch is all you get,” he snapped, retaliating with a quick jab to Ethan’s stomach, then followed up with several well placed blows to his face. “How do you like being pummeled?” he asked, staring down at his partner, who was now rolling around on the floor, moaning.
Still dazed, Katherine rose to her knees, clasped the back of a chair for support, and tried to stand.
George raced to her side. “Here, let me help you.” He curled his arm around her and lifted until she stood erect. “Are you okay, Katherine?” he asked, then shot a quick glance over his shoulder at Ethan — who had yet to get up and appeared to have passed out.
“I … I think so.” Though her knees felt like rubber and her head was swimming, she was sure she could stand on her own. “Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up when you did.”
“I couldn’t very well ignore the performance Ethan put on at the party, and was worried it might continue once you got him home,” George said. “We have been friends since grade school and he is one stubborn son of a bitch when he gets something into his head. I tried both your cell phones, but was not surprised to have them go straight to voice mail. So I figured I had better come over and check on you myself.”
“Thank God you did.”
George shrugged. “I care about you, kiddo. Not in the way Ethan thinks,” he quickly added, “but I do consider you to be like a little sister.” He used his thumb to wipe a tear from her cheek.
She held his hand in place for a moment and smiled. “I never had any brothers or sisters. It’s nice to know you care.”
George gave her hand a squeeze, then released it. “What will you do now? You can’t very well stay here.”
“I have a couple of options.”
“I think it’s a good idea if you find a place Ethan doesn’t know about. In fact don’t tell anyone where you are headed. You can text me once you get there. Right now, you need to give him a chance to sleep off the booze and to calm down.” He gently swept a lock of hair from Katherine’s cheek and tucked it behind her ear, cringing a little as his finger grazed her face. “You’re going to have a shiner in the morning
.”
She grinned and touched her tender cheek. “It will be my first one.”
“Hopefully your last. I just wish I had gotten here before things went this far. I planned to intervene before the two of you left the party,” George said, his tone apologetic. “I intended to hold Ethan at bay while you left in a cab, but by the time Sharon settled down and I got outside, you were gone.”
“I hope Sharon didn’t believe what Ethan said us having an affair.”
“Of course not. She was just upset about Ethan’s abhorrent behavior and the fact he ruined my party,” George said. “When I found out you’d already left, I decided to drive over and make sure things were okay with her blessing. And I’m so glad I did. I’m just sorry it took me so long to get here.”
“You had to see to your pregnant wife, that’s a given. And you came as fast as you could. There is no reason to apologize.”
“Now isn’t this touching,” Ethan said as she shot them both a glower of contempt and lunged toward them with the fireplace poker in hand.
Georg spun around in time to deflect the downswing of the metal rod and grabbed Ethan’s wrist. “Get out of here, Katherine. I’ll handle this jackass from here.”
“I can’t just leave you two fighting,” she stammered, afraid for George’s life.
“I said go. Run! And remember what we talked about. I’ll handle things,” George rasped when Ethan slid his knee between George’s and at the same time wrenched free of his grasp, both men tumbling to the floor.
Doing as instructed, she grabbed her purse and keys from the table by the door and ran out of the apartment.
~ * ~
She hated to leave, and the sound of things breaking, of them screaming and cursing at each other would be etched in her memory for a long time. She wasn’t a coward and this was her problem, not George’s. She’d even considered going back inside. But she didn’t stand a chance against Ethan and if she was out of the picture, George would be able to focus on the fight, rather than worrying about her getting in the way.