Predator - A Stand Alone Suspense Romance (14 page)

“It’s one of those trailer houses. They bring them on wheels when you buy one,” she goes on talking. I get the feeling that talking puts her at ease. “It works for me. Who needs more than two bedrooms and a bathroom? The kitchen’s big enough to cook what I eat and I can rest my old behind in my living room. I don’t need something fancy. The land is out back, closer to the river so I don’t have to walk far for water. I’ll show you later. Let’s get ourselves settled first. My back is about to break in half.”

I follow her into the small house, not sure what to expect. Her home is … peculiar. I suppose it’s just like her in a way. Little relics decorate just about every open space and mismatch carpets cover the floor. The two couches are from another era, and I’m not sure they make her kind of television anymore. It still has those knobs you have to turn.

The kitchen is another story. Pots and pans hang from the ceiling, along with dried chili and garlic. A row of little herb pots fill the windowsill, and there’s tiny magnets with bible verses decorating the fridge.

“It’s home, Honey,” she sighs. I smile at her because she’s right. This is her home. “This way,” she says, pointing down a short passage.

It’s not really a passage, it’s more like four steps. The guest room is decorated in shades of purple. I swallow and walk in. It’s real pretty. A single bed stands in the middle of the room with a simple chest of drawers rounding out the furniture.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” I whisper. The words aren’t enough, I know.

“At night I like to sit outside before I go to bed. I talk to my Lord, tell Him of my worries and give Him my thanks. I don’t know who you talk to, Honey, but the stars sure shine bright out here and they don’t talk back like us nosy folk.” She leaves me standing alone in the room, feeling miserable.

I’ve never been the praying kind but I might just give the stars a try, because nothing else is working.

Damian~

I’m up early as always and walking down the stairs when I notice the front door is open wide. For a moment I freeze before I run back up.

I open Jean’s door and see her still in bed. Then I race to Cara’s room, slamming the door open.

My breath wheezes from my chest and for the first time in a very long time I feel a flicker of fear. Where the fuck is she?

The bed is unmade and the cupboard door is open. I race back downstairs and take a look at the door. No force of entry.

Frustrated, I rub my hand over my beard. I would’ve heard if someone broke in. I would’ve heard something if someone came for Cara.

There’s no way anyone could’ve found out where she was staying.

“Morning,” Jean mumbles as she comes down the stairs. I groan when I see she’s only wearing a top and panties. This woman is driving me insane.

“Did you hear anything last night?” I ask.

She walks toward the kitchen. “No, nothing.” I stare back outside wondering where to start. “Oh wait,” Jean calls from the kitchen, “Karen went for a walk just before I passed out.”

“What?” I ask, stunned. The glimmer of fear grows in my chest, leaving my thoughts scrambled. I’m always calm and in control. I hate not being in control. Things go wrong if I lose my shit.

“I said,” Jean appears in the doorway, sipping on a cup of coffee, “she went for a walk. She didn’t even bother closing the door behind her. A bit risky, if you ask me.”

“Was there anyone with her?” I can’t get my mind around what Jean is saying.

She frowns at me. “No. It was just her.”

“Fuck!” I race back up the stairs to my office. My eyes search for the camera and memory cards and when I find them, confusion sets in fast. She didn’t take them with her. Everything is just like I left it last night.

I pace the floor and dark thoughts start to brew in my mind. Why would she just leave? Did something happen that I’m not aware of? Is she really so upset with Jean being here?

My gut instinct tells me to search for the answer so I can fix this mess. I stalk to the filing cabinet and I take out her file. Maybe there’s something I missed about her. I open it and for a moment it looks weird, then it hits – the passport and I.D. are gone.

“Fuck,” I curse in anger. “She’s been planning this all along. That’s why she’s been acting so weird the last couple of days.” I throw the file and papers scatter across the floor. “Shit! I should’ve seen this coming.” One panicked thought after the other starts to slam into my mind. “They’ll find her. Fuck, this time they’ll kill her!”

I rush to my safe and quickly open it. I take out my gun, some ammunition, an I.D. with the name Damian Weston, and some cash, and then I run to my room. I pack a small traveling bag, the absolute basics.

On my way out I remember Jean. She’s standing by the front door still drinking coffee. I shove by her, and then call back. “You have five minutes to pack your shit. I’ll drop you off at your house.”

“What the fuck!” she yells. “Why?”

“I have something important to take care of,” I snap, already going into mission mode. No feelings, only facts.

“I paid you!” Jean screams.

I throw the bag in the back of the car and stalk back to the house. I take the cup from her hand and throw it across the yard. I take my wallet out and count out a thousand bucks. I shove it against her and then walk to the room she was staying in. I rush through the room, throwing all her stuff in her bag, and then I race down the stairs again.

I throw the bag on the porch, shove Jean outside and then lock the door behind me.

Cara. I can only think of her as I get in the car.

Cara
.

Her name becomes my every heartbeat. I fucking let her feel unsafe in my house by bringing Jean here. I shouldn’t have done that. I screwed up, and now it’s time to fix it. The last I see of Jean is her waving her arms angrily at me, dressed in that skimpy top and panties.

“Fuck, Weston! You fucking screwed this up bad.” I slam my fist against the steering wheel when I reach the main road. “Which way did you go, Cara?”

Using only instinct I turn left, towards town. I will go over every piece of ground with a fine comb until I find her.

I take my phone out and quickly dial Jeff’s number.

As soon as he answers, I don’t give him time to talk. “Put a trace out for Karen Weston. We need to find her, Jeff. She’s on the run.”

“Fuck,” he groans grumpily.

“Let me know when you have a hit.”

When I’m done with the call, I become aware of my heart racing a mile a minute.

Two months … that’s all it took for Cara to crawl into the space my heart used to be.

Cara~

I wake to The Carpenters harmonizing and I shove the pillow over my head. Annie will drive me around the bend with that record player of hers. And she only listens to two records - The Carpenters and the one of Elvis with the scratches on. It hiccups on two of the songs. When she hums along to it she hiccups with it.

The first week I just followed her around like a lost puppy, and she let me. She showed me how to turn the ground, how to plant seeds, and I stared when she started pumping the weird looking thing that made water come from the river up to the little patch of land.

Some guy named Jason made it for her. She gave me the impression this Jason is like a son to her, maybe some boy that goes around doing odd jobs for the elderly. Who knows?

I watched her make bread. I mean from scratch – like from flour and eggs and things. And she pickled some chili. I’ll never remember how she did it all but it was the most fascinating thing I’ve ever seen. It was also the first time I let myself wonder, why not?

Why can’t I just be right here? With Annie. I miss my parents and Annie doesn’t have anyone. We could be together out here in the middle of nowhere. No one will ever find me here.

“Annie,” I call as I walk out of the room that has now become mine. Believe it or not, I’m wearing a dress. Annie adjusted some of her old dresses for me. Some brush the floor when I walk, but most hang under my knees. I’m fine with it. It covers everything and Annie’s happy. “Annie, you want me to run up to the patch so long?”

I find her on the porch, sipping her homemade tea. I won’t touch that stuff ever again. Annie drinks flowers. She picks them right out back and lets them dry and then she drinks them. She calls it her version of Chamomile tea. I’m not so sure about that, it just looks like plain old daisies to me. She started explaining that Chamomile is a type of daisy, and I watered the roses nearest to me with the rest of the tea I had left.

“Come sit next to me, Honey.” She gives me her all-knowing look. The one that I’ve quickly learned leads to a serious talk.

I sit down on the swing and look out toward the trees to where the river lies.

“Tell me,” she starts, “is there something you need from town?” she asks and I let out a breath of relief. I was expecting questions or worse.

“No. No, thank you.” I smile. She’s already giving me so much.

“So you don’t need any lady stuff, for you know, down south?”

I flush red at her question and I start nodding, because duh, I do need those – then realization slams hard. “I haven’t had my period in months.”

“Oh dear,” Annie sighs.

I shake my head at the ugly possibility staring me right in the face. “I can’t be!” I jump up and start to pace in front of Annie.

“You’re going to make me dizzy. Sit down, child. No need to worry until we know for sure. I’ll get one of those tests for you.”

“Still,” I mumble in shock. “I … I’m going down to the land. I’ll see you later.”

I rush away from all the questions in Annie’s eyes.

Pregnant.

All the memories flood me, threatening to drown me out in the open. I thought I could run away from the nightmare. I thought if I just ignored it all then it would be just that … a nightmare.

I can’t be pregnant. I don’t even know which of them impregnated me! They’re all dead anyway.

Pregnant.

Every second will be a stark reminder of being raped, of being beaten – of being degraded. Maybe my period is staying away from the beating and being raped? Maybe it’s just stress. Shit, I hope so.

If I’m pregnant it’s a good thing I left Damian. With the job he does, it would be too dangerous for a child.

I’ve been with Annie for eleven days. Damian said it takes two weeks to break a habit. I only had three more to go, hoping the pain of leaving Damian would start easing up some, because whoever said time heals all never felt the pain I’m feeling.

“We did that piece, already, Honey,” I hear Annie call. She gave me some time to myself this morning for which I’m grateful.

I don’t know what to do. What if I’m pregnant? What will I do?

Instead of mulling over all the dark memories, I now chew over questions I have no answers for.

I look over the row I’ve just scuffled. We did it already? I’m so screwed up. I can’t even think straight.

“We did it two days ago. Today we plant tomato and potato seeds.”

I get up and dust my hands off and then walk over to where all the packets of seeds are.

I glance over my shoulder and fear ripples through me as I see a man coming towards me. I rush over to the packets of seeds. I don’t see the pictures, the words – I just move closer to the bench and take hold of the garden scissors – a weapon.

“This here is Jason,” Annie says proudly. I don’t loosen my grip on the scissors. They’ll have to pry it from my dead hands.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you miss … ahh…” he leaves it open and they both wait.

I turn slowly keeping my eyes on his feet. His feet will move first.

“Nonsense, Boy. Just call her Karen. The child might as well be from my own rib,” Annie steps in for me and I love her in that moment.

He reaches a hand out to me and I stare at it for too long before I step forward and lift mine. It’s the hand with the scissors. I drop it and start to sputter like an idiot. “I’m…sorry.” I glance up quickly and take in his uniform. Law enforcement. Shit! “Hi,” I squeak and I know, I just know if I was him I’d be suspicious of me.

“Jason Williams,” he smiles, and my stomach coils into a knot.

“Karen Weston,” I give my name and I feel my newfound freedom slip away.

He’s going to arrest me! He’s going to take me away from this little piece of heaven. Shit!

“I didn’t know you had a guest, Annie. Now ain’t that something,” he says. I take a step back, letting his hand hang in the air.

I turn back to the bench and grab the first pack of seeds I see.

“Those are chili, Honey.” Annie comes closer and she places her hand over mine, squeezing it real tight. “Why don’t you run on up and go get me my hat? I feel that ball of fire scorching the gray right into my head.”

I nod and go. I don’t look back, I just go. I don’t know what hat she’s referring to but I take the gap she’s giving me to get away.

“Annie,” I hear him ask and I quicken my pace, “where’s that girl from?”

“I told you, Jason,” she snaps, “my rib. Now hand me the tomato seeds.”

“Shit! Shit! Shit! He’s going to bust me,” I chant all the way to the house.

His car comes into sight and it reads state police on the side. It takes everything I have not to break out into a mad race up the road.

Why can’t I just have peace? I just want a home. As soon as I think I’ve found it someone comes along to ruin it.

I hide until I hear the car leave. Annie comes into my room and to my surprise she hugs me real tight. I can’t keep all the stress and feelings bottled up any longer. Tears well in my eyes and spill over my cheeks. I cry because I don’t want to lose her as well. I don’t want to be pregnant with a rapist’s child. I just want some peace. Is that too much to ask?

“It’s okay,” she coos. “It’s okay, Honey. I should’ve known better. The boy is as harmless as those pigeons pooping up a storm on the porch. He won’t hurt a fly. I have you tucked in tight under my wing and this old heart won’t let anyone take you away from me. I’ve been alone too long myself,” she sniffs. “We’re a family now, and family sticks together.”

I hold her tighter and I know in just eleven days I’ve come to care for this woman dearly. I won’t give her up without a fight. I really want this to be my home.

That night I look up at the stars as Annie’s chin rests against her chest. She always falls asleep out here. I glance up again and whisper, “I was eighteen when my parents died. It was a boating accident. We always went out on the dam, just drifting, talking, sleeping. That day I woke up to a loud bang. There was blood and then the pain came. When I woke up again, my uncle told me they were dead. I didn’t even get to go to their funerals. The propellers of the boat had sliced through my back. People saw what happened and fished me out. They said I was lucky.” I take a breath and launch right back in. “My uncle gave me my mother’s name, said they would come back to finish us both off if we didn’t disappear. He gave me money and told me to run … and I did. I disappeared for so long. For seven years all I did was run. But then I forgot what I was running from. I was stupid and they found me.”

I hear an owl hoot and listen before I finish, not knowing if it’s even worth talking to the stars.

“He saved me in so many ways. I didn’t see it at first. He saved me from certain death. He’s the scariest person I’ve ever met, but for some reason I felt safe with him. Now I’m just a fading star amongst all the bright ones.” I sigh. “All I want, ever wanted is to belong and to have someone who will be just mine. Life really sucks.” I laugh bitterly. “All I want is love and all I get is people trying to kill me and take away what peace I manage to find in between.”

“Sometimes you just look like a fading star because you burn slower and deeper,” Annie whispers next to me. “You’re not an all-consuming star. Your light will shine for long and it will shine strong, Honey. Yours will still shine long after others have burned out.” She gets up and places her calloused hand on my cheek. “We’ll keep shining together, you and me child, because I have no intention of burning out on you. You find that peace you’re looking for here by me.”

I sit outside for long, staring at the stars, and I look for the ones that are the faintest. Annie’s and mine.