“My son would really like you, you know,” President Bord began again. “If I could convince him to look elsewhere than the Internet for love, he would find it.”
In the dim light from a lantern hanging in the corner, she could see that his mask gone now, and the lines of his face showed clearly a man suffering.
Coming closer to where she sat on the dirt floor, her hands and feet bound with the twine used to tie up hay bales, he smiled at her. Her hands were tied behind her back, making it impossible to move away from him. “You would make a wonderful daughter-in-law.”
She cringed inwardly at the unwanted closeness as he kissed her on the lips, a tight thin-lipped kiss that reminded her of the forced kisses she had shared with her uncles back home. As she tried scooting backwards, her lightheadedness caused her to stomach to revolt.
He stood up, looking down on her covered in her own vomit with a cold expression on his face. “Think about my offer, and perhaps I can find a way to get Shadow out of jail.”
She watched him leave, locking the padlock on the door behind him, and as the door was open, heard what she thought was one of her owls hissing as it circled and swooped overhead in the moonlight, watching the man leave the small wooden building. All alone, she squeezed her eyes shut to keep her growing terror at bay. The air around her seemed to grow thinner. The techniques her therapist had given her to calm herself escaped her. Her mind raced trying to remember, but panic came anyway. Her ears rang. Sweat trickled down the center of her back. Her limbs felt suddenly cold as a wave of fear washed over her, drowning out all other sounds except the ringing in her ears.
All she could see in her mind was her father, standing in the family's backyard, alive and in his pajamas, standing between her mother and her brother, Peter.
Her father moved suddenly to grab the shotgun from her mother’s shaking hands when the gun went off.
A loud blast rang throughout the yard, deafening Bethanie as she fell to her knees on the green carpet of grass, watching his blood spill from his chest. Everything around her seemed to turn red, even her nightgown was splattered until it looked pink.
Peter stood as still as a statue, watching the whole scene unfold.
Their father lay dying in the grass. Bethanie ran to him, calling over and over, Daddy, Daddy.
“You killed him,” Bethanie screamed at her mother who had dropped the shotgun and now also stood frozen in shock. “Why did you do that?” But she screamed to no avail, her mother never answered her.
She thought to herself that she never wanted to see her mother again for the rest of her life.
Police sirens began in the distance and drew closer until they surrounded them.
Her mother's legs finally gave out and she sat down hard where she stood. The police came and handcuffed her as Bethanie watched. Blue lights spun in the darkness, making the world seem dreamlike as her mother was put in the back of the Sheriff's car.
Peter turned to Bethanie now, screaming at her that she had done this… that it was all her fault. Spit flew out of his mouth as he did. She closed her eyes then and let his words wash over her.
Seconds, maybe minutes later, a stranger walked up beside her, startling her and taking her inside to pack up her belongings. She was going to be away from home for a while, someplace safe. And as she was being driven away, to where she did not know, knowing in her heart that she would never return to her own house. As it got smaller and smaller in her vision, she remembered something. She had forgotten to pack her new shampoo. And there in the silence of the backseat, she began to cry, hard.
Shadow walked out of the Ferra City Police Station on Thursday morning into the brilliant sunlight, the kind that comes after a storm. The leaves were turning a bright orange as harvest time approached. In the last twelve hours of his life, he had been arraigned on charges of breaking and entering. Fortunately, his bail was lowered by the judge because of Shadow's good reputation in the community and his teaching position at the school.
While in jail, he discovered that the police had been sent out to arrest him after one of the neighbors questioned after the break-in had reported seeing him leave Bord Jr.'s condominium. The silent alarm had apparently been tripped when they entered. The police had questioned neighbors to assess if anyone had been seen coming in or out of the condo that day and had been given Shadow's description by one older woman who had seen only him, no one else with him. Bord Jr., of course, had immediately recognized Shadow's description and immediately handed his name over to the police.
Shadow got into Chris Hogan's navy blue SUV, sliding his long legs into the passenger side. As he did, his only thoughts were of Bethanie, that Bord Jr. had used this opportunity, had been waiting for this chance to hurt her. He had been consumed with worry for her. This would be the second time someone in her life had been arrested. This was the last thing she needed, considering the hell she had already been through. He asked Chris to ignore the speed limit and take him home.
Bethanie awoke in total darkness, only a sliver of light filtered through a crack in the door. If her mind was not too far gone, it must be Thursday morning by now, she thought.
Now she knew the truth of what had happened to her father, the truth that she had hidden from herself all of these years. She had to now find a way to live with it so that the truth would not kill her. Her mother had not meant to kill her father; it had been an accident, an accident for which she went to prison. Should a woman go to prison for protecting her daughter from the same fate she had suffered as a young woman? Bethanie's father had been trying to calm her down when he stepped in front of the gun; protecting Peter had been what killed him. All of it had been a horrifying, tragic accident.
Then another alarming thought occurred to her, Shadow would not be coming to look for her. If he had posted bail, then he must have read her note by now. Which meant that he would think she had left him, which she had, and there would be no need for him to come after her.
In his fist, Shadow crumpled the twenty-dollar bill along with the note containing Bethanie's wish that the nightgown would help him get out of trouble. The casual missive was a hell of a shot from a little girl who did not recognize love when it was staring her in the face.
My brother visited me. Right now I've got a lot of things in my mind to sort out before I decide whether or not to go home. If I disappoint my family, I may never see them again. And I don't think I could love with that. So I have to decide whether to take the job with the conservatory or go back home. I need to be alone to do that.
There was nothing in the note about where she was going or if she was coming back. He had to guess that she would eventually follow her brother back home to West Virginia. And to make matters worse, she had insulted him with the money, as if he needed payback for services rendered. She was clueless as to how much she meant to him, making her leaving all the more painful.
He cursed, running a hand over the thick beard that had formed while he had been detained. What he needed now was a razor and a hot shower. He wanted to put all of this behind him.
From the living room, Chris watched Shadow with the same sympathy he always had in his expression. “Don't you dare feel sorry for me.” Shadow cursed. “She's gone.”
“Now, you don't know...” Chris began only to be interrupted by Shadow's outburst.
“No!” Shadow put his head in his hands. “If I don't stay right here, I don't know what I'll do. If I let myself hope for one second that she might want me, I'd...”
“You'd?”
“I'd get in my pick-up truck, and I'd go out and find her. I'd bring her back here. I'd drag her back if I had to. And I'd make her stay.”
“Many things that sound crazy on the surface, are exactly the thing that we should do.”
Shadow's derisive laugh filled the room.
“You love this girl?” Chris asked in his plain, soft-spoken way.
“Of course I do.” Shadow nodded, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning
against the kitchen counter, trying hard not to let his emotions overpower him. There was no telling what he would do, maybe tear his house down around him.
“And you have made it clear to her that she belongs to you?”
Shadow frowned, giving the older man a perplexed look. “She knows.”
“Does she?”
“She should know it by now,” Shadow barked.
“How should she know?”
“She shared my home, my food, and my bed. She's mine,” he growled.
Chris sighed, a troubled expression on his face. “There are many ways to love another person. In her world, sharing a man's bed doesn't mean as much as it does in ours. It certainly doesn't mean that the man she sleeps with owns her.”
Shadow looked hard at the older man, his steely gray eyes narrowing to slits. “Bethanie doesn't come from that world. If anything, coming to my bed should have meant even more to her.”
“Perhaps she doesn't want to assume she's wanted. And frightened that if she stayed, you'd eventually send her away.”
Shadow let out an audible breath, not acknowledging aloud the real possibility that his older and wiser friend was right. But he could not deny the truth to himself, she had run away, and he was going to let her. Shoving the nightgown he had been holding in his hand at Chris, he said in a gruff voice, “Take this to the police. I don't have the stomach to walk back into that place.”
“I understand.” Chris said, taking the dress from his young friend. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“Convince the police that the blood is from the skinwalker's own hands. It needs to be verified. They won't find deer blood this time. I'd stake my life on it.”
Chris nodded. “Now only one question remains. Who is the skinwalker?”
As soon as the front door shut behind Chris, Shadow headed straight for the kitchen to the back of the cupboard. He poured himself a large glass of whiskey. Bethanie was gone, and he was finished trying to keep her safe. He had his freedom back now. And since she wanted her freedom, that's just what he would give her.
There was no point in trying to prove his innocence this time. He wondered why he was repeating this lesson again? Obviously he had not learned it the first time. There was no point fighting anymore. That had been his trouble all along, fighting. And it was time to let it go.
He sat back into the comfort of the soft, leather chair, letting the warmth of the whiskey spread throughout his body. He closed his eyes against the demons threatening him, the dark thought of losing Bethanie forever promised to steal away his peace of mind. He poured another drink and gulped it down. Letting the oblivion take him over, he relaxed into the space between consciousness and unconsciousness, where he did not have to think anymore.
Bethanie struggled to fight back nausea every time her captor returned, which seemed to be every few hours just as she drifted off to sleep. And every time he asked her again if she would be willing to forget everything that had happened and gain a job and a husband, his son, in exchange for clearing Shadow's name, she said no. She had nothing against the man's son, he had been an outstanding student-adviser to her, but it occurred to her that perhaps he was covering up for his son. Maybe he knew that his son had killed the girls. After all, Henry Bord Jr. was the one who had been obsessed with one of them. Could the skinwalker be just a sham, an elaborate attempt to cover it all up?
“And how are we this morning?” President Bord asked from the doorway as he stepped inside the shack.
So she had been right, Bethanie thought dimly, it was morning. Her nights and days had begun to run together. She found it increasingly hard to stay awake or for that matter, to even hold her head up. On the one occasion she tried to stand, her heart had begun beating so rapidly and her ears rang so loudly that she had fallen back to the ground.
“Thirsty,” she answered his question as he shut the door behind him.
“You have made up your mind then?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, “I have. I'll marry your son.”
“What made you change your mind?”
She knew she must choose her words carefully so as to not upset him. “The truth is, I've admired your son for three years, since I came to this school.”
“I knew it.” Delight filled his voice. “He is a charming young man. And you'll find that he'll make an excellent husband.”
“Oh, I'm sure of it.” Bethanie tried to sound enthusiastic even as she felt near death.
He reached down and embraced her in a hug that sent her head spinning, then immediately began untying her hands and her feet. Suddenly, he looked into her eyes as if seeing her for the first time. “I'm so sorry about all of this. Are you okay?” The man looked sincerely concerned which confused her even more.
“Think nothing of it.” Bethanie tried to sound genuine, even attempting a smile.
“No. I can't say how foolish I've been. You can't know the worry I have over my son.” He stopped, placing a hand with chewed fingernails over his mouth. “I shouldn't say this really. But he does have a few challenges. And you mustn't judge him too harshly. He has had to grow up without a mother.”
Bethanie tried to play along with this madness. It was difficult though to feign concern as she fought to stay awake.
“Nothing too great. Just the usual temper one would expect from a young man his age. Whenever he falls in love with a girl, he tends to go a bit overboard.”
“I see.”
“Don't let me scare you,” he said, placing a hand on her knee. “He'd never intend to hurt you.”
“Of course not,” Bethanie agreed, leaning her head back against the wall, feeling the pull of her unused muscles.
“No!” he suddenly burst out. “That's not true and you know it!”
Bethanie shook from the force of his outburst then shrank away from him as more and more warning bells sounded in her head. The man’s behavior was not only confusing it was frightening. She knew that time was of the essence if she was going to get away from this man.
He turned his back on her and began pacing the length of the small shed, mumbling to himself and seeming to have forgotten her altogether.
She sat as still and quiet as she possibly could so as not to attract any attention to herself. Suddenly he stopped pacing and walked out of the shack. She knew this was her chance. He had forgotten to lock the door from the outside. She could hear the sound of footsteps retreating from the shack and when she could no longer hear them, began counting to one hundred just to be sure he was gone just as she had done when she had been a girl playing hide and seek.
Finding herself alone and unbound, she mustered enough strength to stand, drawing as deep a breath as her lungs could manage to help her up after spending three days in this shed with no food or water. The time had come to emerge from her hiding place before the madman returned. She did not know how long she had.
There was a light knock on the cabin door, and Shadow felt his spirits lift immediately as he imagined Bethanie standing outside his door, coming back to him. It was Sunday, and during the past three days without her, he had wanted to hold her so badly he felt like an addict without a chance for a fix.
But there, standing on his front porch was the one person he had never expected to see again. He opened the door for her to come inside with mock regality. “Maria.” His voice fell flat. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too, Shadow,” she said, tossing her silky curtain of black hair and smiling, showing perfect, white teeth. “Long time, no see.”
“You could say that.” She had certainly not changed from the last time he had laid eyes on her, still charming as ever. “Sit down,” he said, noticing the way her golden brown skin and long black hair seemed to have been frozen in time. Only her eyes had changed. They were still the same amber brown color, but the light behind them was missing, as though life had extinguished it.
He sat close to her on the sofa, daring her to touch him. “So, what did he
do to you?” Shadow asked in his whiskey soaked voice.
“I don't know what you mean.” She smiled badly, placing her hand on his jeans-clad thigh. Her long, tapered fingers rubbed at the tight muscles there that had become frozen with tension since she had walked back through his door. “I've missed you, Shadow.”
He decided to allow himself to believe her, just this one lie. He wanted to believe so much that she was back for him, and him alone, not for temporary refuge from a cheating husband. He had dreamed of this day, seeing Maria again, but that had been before he met Bethanie. At that thought, his expression darkened. “Want to catch up with me?” he asked her, raising his half-empty glass. “You're a few days behind.”
“Whiskey?” she asked smoothly, to which he nodded and poured her a drink. Her fingertips grazed his and lingered as she accepted it. Dipping her index finger into the glass of amber liquid, she sucked the drink from the tip.
He watched her with haunted eyes and finally reached for her hand, grasping it. Looking down into her brown eyes, he was again struck by what he saw in them. Sadness. Leaning in closer to her, he inhaled the sent of jasmine in her hair, and sensing his own need for her growing stronger, he gave into it and kissed her.
Bethanie crept cautiously through the doorway of the old building that had been her home for the past three days. As soon as she emerged, the sunlight sent her reeling backward, her sensitive eyes needing more time to adjust to the drastic change after being deprived of all light for so long. Carefully, she scanned the area around her for President Bord; she did not want to be taken by surprise and forced back inside her prison. As soon as she had assured herself that he was truly gone, her first thought was to get back to her owls’ nest, not because they needed her, but this time, because she remembered that she had left her crossbow. Shadow had drilled into her to be careful and never to aim it unless she intended to kill. Although she would not go so far as to say she wanted to kill President Bord, if she met him again, she would kill him before she let him take her.
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