by Dancer Vane
“Mr. Farnwood, who insisted we ran tests on the trailer fire.”
So… that was the version Blake had given to Farnwood. That he had surprised them. Only leaving a few details out of it.
“The trailer was mine.”
“Yes, that’s what he told us. And the fire was definitely arson.”
I nodded. So far, he was telling the truth. As far as I knew it.
The young cop still held his hands far away from his body, telegraphing he wasn’t dangerous. I kept an eye on his colleague, who had stepped closer, but prudently kept on the edge of our conversation.
“Mr. Farnwood seemed to believe that the two people who assaulted you might have set the fire. And I thought it would be more respectful to tell you the results of our investigation directly, before calling him.”
I breathed in. Out. They weren’t out to get me. To bring me back into foster care — old fears never die — or to prison, or whatever.
I relaxed slightly, but I remained on guard. That wasn’t even my decision; my body was deciding that on its own, pumping cortisol and adrenalin into my veins, keeping me on edge. Even if I thought I wasn’t in danger, body memory is a strange thing. Or the way the brain was trained, maybe. I kept expecting danger.
“And the result is?”
He looked apologetic.
“Well, the two drunks were easy enough to find. This is a small town. One of them is Brian McGill, and the other is the youngest of his cousins, Dylan Farnell. They confessed easily enough. By the way, why didn’t you report the attack?”
That hadn’t occurred to me. “Because I don’t trust the police” was the obvious answer, but I had to find something better.
“I’m a foreigner. I’m poor. I didn’t think they would care.”
The young man looked seriously offended. “Of course we care.”
I smiled to him.
“Anyway.” I wondered why he was the one doing all the talking. His older colleague wasn’t trying to get closer to me, at least.
“Anyway, they both have good alibis for the evening of the fire. Given how fast it burned, we’re pretty sure the person who set the fire stroke the match around 4h30, when it was starting to get dark. He might have brought gasoline on the stage earlier, but the fire didn’t last long. They were both at the taco place at that time of day. Farnell’s sister works there, and she sometimes gives them free food, apparently. They were in the room, and we have a few people who identified them.”
“So it wasn’t these bastards.”
“No, miss. Not these ones.”
He looked sincerely sorry. Maybe they did care, after all.
“Can you think of anyone who might want to do you harm?”
I thought. I remembered Blake had asked me the same thing — and thinking of him hurt. Weird, because as I had noticed a moment before, nothing between us had really changed.
Yes. And that was exactly the problem.
“I don’t know.”
“Ex-boyfriend? Someone you turned down?”
“Not really.”
The older man spoke suddenly:
“Are you romantically involved with your boss?”
His younger colleague glared at him. The man shrugged: “It’s happened before. He stages the attack, saves her, is a hero.”
Yeah. I bet Blake thought I would see a big wolf and be completely impressed. As a matter of fact, he had done his best to downplay it, saying he had only seen a dog.
“It must have been random,” I said. “Kids playing with fire.”
The young cop made a face. “Why don’t I like this idea either?”
I chuckled. “You have arsonists in your town. Good luck.”
I could see he wanted to add something. His gaze was searching for mine, and he had nice, deep blue eyes.
“Leave that girl alone,” the other grunted. “Miss, we’re sorry about these news. To be honest, we both thought Mc Gill and his cousin were our men. It seemed easy. And if I may, you really should have reported the assault. These two are a nuisance. But we can’t do anything if women don’t report it.”
“Yes. True.”
I will if it happens again… I guess.
I’m just very, very uncomfortable with the police.
“Anyway. That was just to let you know. We’re going to tell Mr. Farnwood because he’s been pestering us, but we thought you had a right to be informed first.”
“Thanks, guys. I appreciate.”
The youngest of them gave me a long, warm smile, and he had dimples when he smiled. Cute. And he knew it.
“You think of anything,” he said, handing me a card, “you give me a call.”
His colleague grunted. “Come here, Casanova.”
I didn’t move for a while, after they left. I was thinking.
My father was in jail, for a good while more. His friends had no idea where to find me — nor did they really have any reason to look for me in the first place.
At least I had to hope so.
When I stepped off the bus and walked to the gate, everything was dark and silent.
Exactly as usual.
That was fine by me. I didn’t expect to come home to a big party, and I wanted nothing more than to be alone.
I beeped the gate open, slipped inside and closed it again. The electric fence let out a very low, barely perceptible hum, confirming it was live. I walked down the lane and then took the smaller path through the trees, to the carriage house.
You couldn’t have paid me to walk to the main house. I didn’t want to know if Blake was there, if he was awake. And even less, if he was alone.
I slipped inside my own place with relief and locked the door behind me. Left my bag on the kitchen table. My phone had only twelve percent battery left. I plugged it in in the kitchen.
And then someone knocked on my door.
Chapter Seventeen
ALANNA
“Look,” Blake sighed once again, “I’m not saying I don’t want you here. And of course I’d find you another place to stay, in any case.”
“You’re throwing me out.”
“Not at all! Look…” He raked his hand through his hair. He looked tired, and nervous, and paced nervously in my too-small kitchen.
He took a deep breath. He looked rattled… but something was dawning on me.
I wasn’t important enough to have that effect on him.
The lines of tension on his face, the rigid set of his shoulders — it didn’t come from having slept with his employee. This wasn’t about me.
But I was the one he was throwing out.
“Look… You’ve got a contract. You’re renting the place, okay?”
“Exactly.”
“So I can’t ask you to leave, not straight away; but I’m asking you to consider… I’m going to find you another place.”
“Is your girlfriend moving in?”
“What girlfriend?” He looked non-plussed. I felt so hurt and angry, I had to remind myself I wasn’t supposed to have seen her. Them.
Picturing him naked was really not the thing to do right then.
“You want me to leave.”
“Yes. I mean, no, I don’t really want it. But I think it would be better for you.”
“Why?”
I faced him, looking up to him only because he was taller, and trying to stare him down. With some success. There was a crescent of red on his cheekbones. Anger? I wasn’t quite certain. There was some in the mix, sure, but it wasn’t the whole story.
In fact, he wasn’t giving me the whole story. And I would have said it was none of my business, except that… this place had become my home. Sure, it might become awkward to be around him, so near, all the time. But we had only slept together; he would get over it. Faster than I would, for sure.
That didn’t explain why suddenly he wanted me out. Away.
“You want to get rid of me.”
And I felt worried when he only rolled his eyes and let out a long sight. Because the Blake I knew, he
wouldn’t have hesitated a second to tell me “Yes, I do, please go get your luggage.”
He knew that all I had fitted into a suitcase, and that I wouldn’t sue him for breach of contract, or whatever. The Blake I knew was a cold-hearted asshole, on the surface at least, and he wasn’t afraid to hurt me. But just when I needed to get over him, fast, suddenly he seemed to have changed.
“I’m not asking you to leave. But.”
“But you want me gone.”
A joyless laugh.
“Yes, Alanna. Basically, yes.”
“Why?”
Oh. Déjà-vu.
“Because… it’s better for you.”
“Don’t worry about me. About what happened. I’m not heart-broken. About you? I’d like to see that.”
Was that hurt I saw for a second? Well. Welcome to the club.
His voice softened. Some.
“This has nothing to do with, uh… that.”
“Really? You’re going to have to tell me what it has to do with, then. Because to me, it’s clearly related to — “ I drew little quote marks in the air. “That”.
He was losing patience fast, but the amazing thing was that he kept hanging to it by a thread. He does have a temper, but he was really making an effort to keep calm. I appreciated.
He must have been really motivated to get me out, and he knew just shouting wouldn’t do it, I guess.
“Alanna, this is a very isolated place…”
“And?”
“We’re deep in the forest…”
“I know. I’ve seen a wolf here. Twice. I know it’s isolated.”
He stared at me, and I held his gaze. Something uncertain passed between us.
“I’m not afraid of wolves,” I told him clearly.
“Well, you should.”
“Really? Because so far, it’s not the wolves who hurt me. Only the people.”
I wasn’t sure in which category to put him. He had hurt me, but only because I had been stupid and naïve; and he had saved me from these two men. I had to place him in his own private category, in between the two. Trust him not to fit in with anyone else.
He sat heavily on one of my kitchen chairs, which were obviously his kitchen chairs before. He had told me they had been in the garage when he bought the house. Whatever. They were sturdy. They’d survive this.
“Alanna, I need you to listen to me.”
“Then stop saying nonsense.”
He let out a short, mirthless laugh.
“Really,” I insisted. “This place is too isolated? Who bought a house here? Who bought a damn property with three houses on it?”
“I like my privacy.”
“Yes, I gathered so much. Anyone who sees where you live would gather so much. But don’t tell me you’re afraid for me. That’s bullshit.”
“I am, though.”
His voice sounded… empty. Defeated. Like someone had pulled off every string of emotion in it, and that was what was left. Bleak. Empty.
I took the chair next to him and sat down, facing him. My legs were killing me. I hadn’t had a break in the whole day, and I had had to walk to the bus stop. If I had to fight with him, it would have to be sitting down, because I was exhausted.
At least, when we were sitting face to face, I didn’t have to look up to him so much.
His finger brushed my knee. He took it back quickly.
“Alanna, you’re not safe here.”
“Are you afraid someone will set fire to this house?”
He looked at me in surprise, and for a second I saw real fear in his eyes. Dismay.
“Because of the trailer,” I added.
“Oh. No. The trailer was a one-off. I’m not afraid for the house.”
“I’ll move if you want me to,” I admitted reluctantly. “But I don’t want to move just because you’re upset because you slept with the help. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care about you anyway.”
A short, dry laugh.
“I’m glad we settled that.” His voice sounded brittle.
I pressed my lips together. He was a bit pale now, and fighting to become cold again, distant. But he didn’t stand up.
“Alanna… there are… things you don’t know.”
“I’m not stupid,” I retorted. “You run naked in your park at night. I know that much. Please don’t assume I’m stupid.”
He chuckled, the same empty, bleak sound as his voice.
“I’m not going to be popular, if you say that around.”
“And I won’t. I’m not gossiping about your private life.”
He watched me for a second. Then he seemed to make a decision. He slipped a piece of paper out of the back pocket of his jeans.
I KNOW YOUR LITTLE SECRET.
I stared at the paper for a long time. The writing seemed familiar to me, but then, all caps scribbled with a cheap pen, that’s pretty common.
I KNOW YOUR LITTLE SECRET.
So, my most crazy ideas about him seemed to be true. Or at least someone else held the same belief.
Fine.
I could deal with this.
“Someone is threatening you,” I said.
“I had guessed that much, yes.”
I grinned at him. He couldn’t help it, could he? I ignored his haughty, clipped tones, and went on:
“It doesn’t mean they really know anything. Nor that they have proof. Nor that I should be scared of them.”
“They’ve probably seen something.”
“Well. There’s only so much they can see at night. And there are wolves in these forests; that’s where the legends come from, obviously.”
He didn’t smile, but that twitch of his lips was a close call.
“Obviously.”
“If you make me go away, they might think you’re scared. You can never show fear in front of a predator. Or a bully.”
I looked at him, and realised he was probably a predator. He should know how to deal with another one.
“Anyway,” I added lightly — or trying to — “When you’re faced with a bully, you can’t show weakness.”
“And that’s a sixty pound teenager giving me this lesson.”
Sixty pounds, me? It made me wonder how he managed to get his recipes right.
“Whatever I weigh — and it’s too much, not too little — I’m not just a teenager. I’m a survivor.”
I looked him right in the eye. His green gaze was dark and serious.
And he might tease me often and sometimes cruelly, but I could see he took me seriously. He was giving me space, waiting for me to go on.
“I’m a survivor,” I repeated, surprised to hear the words out of my own mouth. Well, that was the good news, but this wasn’t about me. “And I managed it by not showing weakness. If you get me out of your house, they’ll think you’re scared. And they’ll think you want to protect me and that will make me a target to them if they want to hurt you.”
“God, no!”
I rolled my eyes. “No, God forbid anyone believed you care about me! But they don’t know you — they don’t know what a cold bastard you can be.”
I stood and turned around to make some coffee. I felt drained, and I had a feeling this fight was barely starting. Because he wanted me out of the house. This house. He would find me another place, he said, but… that would be as far away from him as he could, I already knew that.
“You don’t believe that,” he said calmly.
I wasn’t sure I was brave enough to turn away and look at him.
“You know me better than that.”
Yeah. Sure.
“Seriously.” His voice was calm now, with an aftertaste of surprise. “You can’t believe that.”
He stood, and I didn’t move. I managed to grab the empty kettle, though. Good try.
Yes, kettle. Because the only coffee I have is the instant kind. I’m not joking when I say all my possessions fit into a suitcase, and the house didn’t come with a coffee machine.
I kept focusin
g on little details like that. Sometimes, little details is all you have to keep you sane.
I felt both his hands on my shoulders, warm and heavy.
Surely he wasn’t trying to make me get down on my knees? The idea was so out of place it made me laugh.
I turned around to face him. His eyes looked bruised.
And suddenly I understood.
“You’re afraid for me,” I said, surprised.
“I keep telling you.”
“I know. But I thought it was a bad excuse.”
He shook his head.
His hands were on my shoulders again, my hair brushing against them. And even if I had laughed just before, the idea of getting on my knees, and make him forget all about fear and loneliness, was really tempting. Now, that was all we needed to confuse everything even more.
“I understand,” I said. “You’re worried whoever sent you this note could come after me.”
“As a collateral victim, but yes.”
“But this is not threatening.”
“You think so?”
I looked at the paper, that lay on the small kitchen table. I had found that table in the cramped attic of the house and fixed it myself. It reminded me that this was my home, now. I had earned it. Sort of.
“All right, it does sound worrying. But in this case, I’m not leaving you alone.”
“Protected by a teenaged girl. Right. This might be the final blow to my ego.”
“Oh, don’t underestimate your ego.”
He laughed. I went on: “Or me. It’s not about weight or age. It’s about loyalty. I owe you a lot. More than you realise. You and that wolf that saved me one morning.” I fought a smile. “You’re my two heroes.”
“I think it was a dog.” But his lips were definitely curving in spite of himself.
“So, I can’t say if this is a real threat, or just someone fucking with your head. But I’m here and if they hope to get you alone, they’re in for a surprise.”
He looked at me with… admiration? No, I must have gotten that wrong. But there wasn’t any haughtiness in this gaze.
Of course he’s a lot taller than me, so he’s always looking down on me, but there’s looking down… and there is this. His brown-green eyes looked soft, with his long lashes throwing a shadow over them, and even the line of his lips had softened. He was heartbreakingly beautiful.