Predator - A Stand Alone Suspense Romance (15 page)

I haven’t even rinsed my coffee cup when a car comes up the road, driving up whirls of dust.

“Don’t hide,” I hear Annie saying from the porch outside. “You come and rest your behind here next to me. Don’t give the boy a reason to ask questions. You hear me?”

“Yes, Annie.” I’m nodding like one of those bobbleheads she has in her RV. When she drives, they nod all the time.

I dry my hands and rush outside. I sit down beside her and fold my hands on my lap. My heart is going crazy and all the fears are back.

“Smile, Honey,” she says. “Think of rainbows and butterflies.”

I smile, but no amount of rainbows and butterflies will stop my stomach from spinning as Jason takes the two steps up to us.

“Annie.” He tips his hat. “Karen. How are you two this morning?” He sounds casual, but I’m not falling for it.

“As bright as a sunray, Jason.” She nods to the bags in his arms. “Is that mine?”

“Yeah. I think I got everything on the list. I’ll just put it in the kitchen.” When he comes back out, he takes his hat off and leans against the railing opposite us. He stretches his legs out before him.

His hazel eyes are sharp, and his light brown hair is kept in a neat style. He’s tall and lean, not built like Damian. I frown when I realize I’m comparing them.

His eyes are asking Annie questions. I can see it.

“Out with it, boy.” Annie’s tone sharpens slightly.

His eyes turn on me. “You have an accent. I did a search on your name and it’s as clean as a whistle. What I want to know is how someone who was born in South Carolina ends up sounding like you?”

I freeze once again in the face of danger.

“Now, you listen to me!” Annie raises herself to her mere five point one feet and I take hold of her hand.

“No, Annie,” he cuts her off, “you’ve been my mother for the past twelve years, and I won’t stand by and watch you get used.” He straightens himself out as well and I get up, figuring we might as well all be standing. “I’m no idiot, so don’t make me out to be one.” Then he looks at me again.

“Go on inside, Karen,” Annie says, her voice dipping low with warning.

I said I would fight to stay here and I will. For once I will fight and I lift my chin meeting his angry eyes.

“Do you do checks on everyone you meet, Officer?” I take a step forward and for a moment my legs feel weak with fear. I’ve survived that container, I can damn well survive this guy! I glare at him, “I have an accent because my mother is from South Africa. My father is American. I was born here. Spent time traveling. Would you like to see my I.D., Officer?” I bite out. I’ve built up the story and he can now do with it what he wants. I don’t have to say another word.

“No,” he says and I watch him swallow. “I’d like a moment alone with Annie.”

I leave in a hurry but I stay in the passage where I can hear them.

“You come onto my land and you disrespect me?” She launches into him. “She’s blood of my blood. You don’t come around here talking of her like that. We put my sister in the ground and Karen is all I have now. We’ve been through enough to have you kicking up dust all around us!”

“Annie,” he breathes, “I’m only looking out for you. Something about her just ain’t right. You take in lost puppies and kittens-” I hear Annie inhale sharply. “Let me finish,” he says patiently, “you don’t take in total strangers. You don’t know what kinda baggage she’s dragging behind her.”

“Jason Steward Williams!” Annie breathes his name. “How dare you!”

“Annie-”

“Don’t you Annie me,” she fumes.

“It’s my duty to look out for you,” he hisses.

That’s about all the tension I can take. I stalk back outside.

“Would you both just stop it,” I say and I’m surprised at how calm I sound. I point at him. “You don’t know me. You have no right to judge me.” Then I look at Annie. “He only cares. Now let’s all take a breather and have some of that awful flower tea.”

I walk back into the house to make some of the flower tea Annie likes to drink, and coffee for me. Jason can have the awful tea with Annie.

I’m busy arranging everything for the fourth time on the tray when I hear him come into the kitchen. They’ve been whispering a while and I’ve taken my time making the coffee and tea.

“She really cares about you,” he says.

“I really care about her,” I say as I pick up the tray. It’s not even eight in the morning and I’m tired already.

“I don’t want to see her get hurt,” he keeps going. “So if there is something, anything that might come to hurt her because she has a kind heart, I’d like to know so I can protect her.” He has a really awful way of warning a person and I start toward the door. I pause when he asks, “Is there something coming?”

I don’t answer him because I don’t know. I was fine until he started digging. I don’t know if he triggered anything. It might be time to run.

But I’m selfish and I don’t. I cling to Annie and this safe haven with both hands.

Damian~

Two weeks. That’s how long I’ve been calling in every damn favor owed to me.

We finally got a lead on Cara’s whereabouts. I was relieved when the name Karen Weston popped up. At least she’s using the new identity.

I’ve been driving without stopping to sleep. God only knows if she’s okay.

We got the lead from a police station in some town in the middle of bum-fucking-nowhere. I just hope it’s a small town, because searching from house to house for her is going to take forever.

Cara~

A month. I’ve been living with Annie for a month. Jason still eyes me warily every time he comes to visit Annie. He doesn’t trust me and I don’t trust him.

I started getting sick, especially around two in the afternoon. I don’t know why it’s called morning sickness if it comes at any damn time of the day.

Annie makes me drink peppermint tea with honey in the morning. It took some getting used to. During the day I chew on lemon flavored candy. It helps a lot and although the nausea is still there, at least I’m not puking anymore.

I’m waiting on the porch for Annie. I look down at my waist. My hand settles over my stomach that’s starting to swell, and for the zillionth time I wonder what I’m going to do. In six months I’ll be forced to push a child into this ugly world. I’ll be forced to give birth to a rapist’s child.

I always dreamt about getting married, having children, growing old with the man I love. Now it’s the furthest thing from my mind. There’s no use in dreaming about something I’ll never have. No man will want a filthy woman like me, or her rapist’s child.

My future looks bleak. I don’t know how I’m going to do this. What am I going to do with the child? I can’t abort it. I just can’t. It didn’t ask to be here. I could always look at adoption, but that will shine a spotlight on where I am.

What the hell am I going to do?

“No use in stressing over the future, Honey. Tomorrow will take care of its own problems. Right now we have to go work so we’ll have food for tonight,” Annie says as she walks by me.

I trail behind her, my thoughts refusing to leave the baby growing inside of me.

Annie stops and waits for me to catch up and then she tilts her head. “You’ve looked like death warmed up ever since that test showed that you’re pregnant. A child ain’t a curse, Honey.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” I whisper.

“Now, how can you say that?” We start to walk again and Annie continues, “It’s a blessing to bring a human being into this world. You get to help shape the future.”

“You don’t understand, Annie,” I say, trying to hold back the anger and disgust that’s always lodged in my throat.

She stops and grabs my arm. “Then make me understand.”

I shake my head and pull my arm free. When we get to the patch of land we’re working, I go straight for the plough. It’s an old thing Annie’s husband made. It has two wheels, with a blade in the middle. You tip the handles up until the blade digs into the earth and then you push it like a trolley. It’s hard work, but it makes the time fly by.

An hour or so later sweat is pouring down my face. I use my shoulder to wipe some away when I feel an odd sensation tingling up my spine. I haven’t felt it in a long while. I used to get that feeling when Damian’s eyes were on me.

My head snaps up and I search the area around us, but there’s nothing. Am I losing my mind now? I glance around me once more before I carry on with the work that needs to be done today.

My mind is a dark cesspool of disturbing memories and suffocating feelings. It’s been three months since they found me. Three months, and it still feels like all that shit just happened to me. Some of the memories are starting to fade, like the beatings. I can’t remember the pain anymore. It’s that last night that haunts me.

“Honey,” Annie calls from the kitchen over Elvis hiccupping,
You ain’t nothing bu-ut a houn-nd do-og.

The scratches are getting worse by the day and soon there will be more hiccups than words.

“Yes, Annie,” I pop my head out from my room, holding the towel around myself.

I always shower right after we come up from working the land. Then I put on one of the new dresses Annie made me. The ‘sunflower range’, she calls them. They still reach to under my knees and the colors are bright. She says it’s to make me shine. I just smile and wear them to please her.

“Honey, I’m gonna head on over to Old Bertha for a quick cup of tea. Just taking her some of the pie I baked. Woman’s been complaining about her hips not functioning.” A quick cup means I’ll see her much later.

They normally play bridge while finishing the pie between the two of them. She tried to get me to go with her once. It’s alone time for me so I don’t mind. I know she’s next door.

“Take it easy on her,” I tease. She winks at me and heads out the door. 

I listen to Annie drive away and then it’s only me and Elvis. I leave him on so the house isn’t too quiet.

I started painting the chest of drawers two days ago. Lilac with purple butterflies. Annie loves it. I get back into stenciling the butterflies when Elvis hiccups and the house goes silent.

I wait for the record to go on, but it doesn’t, and the second drags out endlessly long. I feel the air shift, the atoms press against me, and I know I’m not alone. The paintbrush in my hand starts to shake, but I don’t move.

“If I can find you,” he says, “they can find you just as easy.” I try to listen for movement but I hear none. I can only feel him.

“Karen Weston,” it’s a whisper but it’s closer, real close.

I drop the brush on the paper and push myself up. I haven’t seen him in thirty-four days, but his voice has the power to make it feel like it’s only been a second. I try to prepare myself for his eyes as I turn around and then I almost whimper.

His eyes are lifeless and hard on me. Somehow he’s managed to become harder.

“Damian,” I whisper, because I still can’t believe he’s really here.

“You look really good, Cara.” He surprises me with a compliment. His eyes travel over me, from my bare feet to my still drying hair.

I smooth the dress out in front and my hand settles over my stomach protectively. “Annie made the dress,” I whisper stupidly. Like he actually cares about the dress!

“Who is Williams?” He jumps the subject and my mind scrambles to catch up.

“Who?”

“Jason Williams,” he says the name again. “The man who did the search on you, who is he?” Damian looks tired and it makes my heart squeeze painfully.

“He’s Annie’s … he’s like a son to her. He didn’t trust me just showing up so he had me checked out. He’s an officer. I don’t know him all that well,” I answer quickly, and I don’t know why I added the last part. Maybe more for Jason’s safety. I might not like him, but I don’t want him dead.

“Really? Because he stops by here a lot,” he says, and I hear the warning.

Anger starts to bubble up. “You’ve been watching me? What’s it to you, anyway? If he’s stopping here for Annie or me, it’s really not any of your business, Damian. You have your own life to concern yourself with,” I snap. And with life I mean Jean.

“And that’s why I’m here.” He walks closer to me. “I’m not that happy that another man is taking an interest in my life. I near damn went crazy when you just vanished on me!” He takes a breath and calms down. “Why did you leave?”

“Because of her. Because there will always be a her. You have a need to save people, and you’re done saving me. I can’t live in a house where there’s a constant flow of needy women.” That’s not really the answer but I hope it works.

“I’m done with you?” he says incredulously. “I’ll never be done with you. You remember that before you let that man touch you.” He turns and my body comes to life. He’s leaving!

“That’s it? You just came here to threaten me?” I challenge him. Anything to make him stay a minute longer.

“I’m not threatening you, Cara. The day I dragged your ass out of that container, you became mine. I told you once I wouldn’t let you leave. When I say something, I mean it. When I said you don’t get to fucking leave me I meant it. God help the man who touches you. You’re carrying my name. I’ll give you the time you need with this lady, but not with another man.”

“But you can have Jean?” I let the words fall between us. “I don’t even have a man in my life! I don’t want a fucking man near me! I … I-” My voice cuts out from all the emotions clouding my judgment. 

“I don’t have her. I helped her. She was a friend. She’s gone. I was wrong to expect you to deal with another person so soon after what happened. I was wrong, and I’m sorry for that. But if it will make you feel better, I’ll say it: no matter if she walked naked through the damn house I would only see you.”

“Reaaally?” I stretch the word out. “You wouldn’t even take a peek? You’d just tell her to bugger on off?”

He looks away and swallows. This last month has not been kind to him, either. I didn’t know I could hurt him. He seemed so untouchable.

I walk to him and look up. I don’t remember him being this tall.

“You have to stop growing,” I try to joke the uneasiness between us away. “I know I’m unreasonable in my demands of you, but it’s one thing to help someone, and a totally different story when you give them a home that’s supposed to be my safe haven. She made it clear she wanted you and that she would have you. I felt like I was in the way.” I sigh and drink in the ink curling in his neck.

“So you left me unprotected,” he whispers. My eyes snap up, not sure what he means. “You didn’t have my back.”

My mouth drops open and I stare, not sure if he’s serious.

“Huh?”

“Don’t grunt at me, woman.” A slow smile curls around the corner of his mouth. “You left me to fend for myself. I know how to save and kill. How the hell do you expect me to fight off a woman?”

I narrow my eyes and I hope I look threatening. “I hope she gave you hell, Damian. You made her think she could. What was I supposed to do?” I huff. “Scratch her eyes out? I’m not into cat fights.”

“You could’ve shot her,” he offers.

“Seriously,” I scoff, “you bring them home and I shoot them. What a great pair we’d make.”

“An unbeatable pair,” he says, and he steps closer. My bravery fizzles to nothing but a puff of smoke. “I love it when you get all angry.” He reaches for me and I melt into his touch when his hand cups my face. “Can this woman you’re living with cook?” he asks.

“Yeah, she whips up bread from scratch.”

“Then eat.” He leans down and brushes his lips against my temple. “You’re fading away. I won’t have you starving.” He takes a cell out and holds it to me. “Phone me when you’re ready to come home.”

I take it and swallow back the tears. He came to tell me he’d always be there. He walks out of the room and a part of me wants to run after him. He’s giving me space so I can find myself. Damian has my back while I get to be with Annie. I sigh and then I wonder why I feel like crying. I should feel at peace now.