Running with Wolves. Cynthia Cooke
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Abomination. Abomination.
Walls don’t speak! Dizziness swam through her and she faltered. She tried to breathe, to force open her mouth and gasp a breath, but she couldn’t. The room spun, nausea roiled through her stomach. Darkness filled the edges of her vision. And then Jason was touching her, holding her arm. Steadying her. She turned to him, her mouth opening but emitting no sounds, the question burning in her eyes.
Do you hear it, too?
With a whoosh, her lungs filled with air. She gasped, quick shallow breaths. His aura was strong, bright. Chasing away the darkness as she hung on to him. He didn’t say anything and an awkward silence lingered between them.
“I...uh...I’ll have to fill the cracks before you can stay here,” she said, glancing back at the wall. “I’m afraid something in the walls is making me sick.”
Even the air felt off and it didn’t smell right. It seemed darker somehow, bleaker, and the scent of sour earth filled her nose. What was happening to her? She must be coming down with something. Tea and perhaps a nap and she’d be right as rain, as her grandma used to say. “The insulation must be toxic,” she continued, muttering, babbling as she faltered again.
“It’s going to be all right. I’ll take care of you,” he said, and before she could respond or even contemplate his words, she was up in his arms, cradled against his warm chest. She didn’t know if the whispering had stopped or if she was so consumed by his body heat, by his heady, earthy scent that she no longer heard the disturbing whispers. She breathed his scent deep, holding it within her, as if it alone could protect her from the darkness.
She didn’t know why, but she no longer felt sick or scared. She nestled close to him as he carried her out of the apartment, down the stairs and into the yard before he set her back onto her feet. She stood there, leaning into him, her hands on his chest, feeling his warmth beneath the palms of her hands. She didn’t want to let him go. But she had to. She didn’t even know him.
Once she stepped away and was standing on her own, embarrassment took root and spread quickly through her. She had never been one of those needy women who couldn’t take care of herself, who needed a man around her. And yet that was what had just happened.
“I’m so sorry about this.” She stammered, “I—I don’t know what came over me.”
He looked down at her, smiling. Which made it even worse.
“I really should get these groceries in the fridge.” She patted the tote bag still slung over her shoulder then turned and quickly walked toward the house. After a second, she realized he wasn’t following her. She turned back to him and found him standing in the same spot, staring after her, a look of concern on his face. Heat warmed her cheeks and quickened her already frayed nerves. “You want to come in for a cup of coffee?”
He nodded, an eager smile lifting his lips. “I think coffee would be a great idea.”
He was concerned about her. Why? He didn’t even know her. She climbed the steps up her porch and hurried into the kitchen with Buddy close on her heels. She went right to the sink and busied herself filling the carafe of the coffeemaker with water. Still trying to determine what had just happened. She’d become so lightheaded, she’d almost fainted and this man, this stranger, had caught her in his more-than-capable arms and she hadn’t wanted him to let her go. She sighed. To make matters worse, this man who had shifted her libido into overdrive was sitting at her kitchen table.
She tried not to think about that. Or about the fact that she felt so comfortable around him. Sometimes he looked at her as if he knew her. As if she knew him. Crazy. And the way she felt when he touched her... She had definitely never felt like that before—all tingly and aware. She glanced at him, sitting in one of her kitchen chairs, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He looked good there. He looked...comfortable.
Once the coffee began brewing, she put a kettle of tea on for herself. Jason stood and perused her pictures on the wall. Photos of herself with her parents back before Dad had died and everything had become so hard for them.
“Your mom and dad?” he asked. His words were casual, but there was nothing casual about the tension in his shoulders. Why was he looking at them like that?
“Yep,” she said and filled her grandmother’s antique cream jar with milk and set it on the table with the matching sugar bowl. She used the set every day, trying to feel closer to her so she wouldn’t miss her so much. Some days it worked; some days it didn’t.
“Where do they live now?” Jason asked.
Was there more than idle curiosity in his voice?
“They aren’t. Living, that is,” she said more harshly than she’d meant to.
Confusion wrinkled his forehead. “Oh. I didn’t know. Sorry to hear that.” And he looked it, too. Much more than he should for someone who had no idea who she or her parents were.
Anxiety twisted through her as it hit her again that she’d invited a man she didn’t know into her home. She was alone with a complete stranger. A too-good-to-be-true stranger.
And no one knew.
“I know what it’s like to lose your family,” he said as sadness filled his eyes. “To be alone.”
She gave herself a strong mental kick for being so paranoid. Here was this nice guy, who had done nothing but help her and try to make small talk, and she was thinking the worst of him.
“I’m sorry about the apartment,” she said, deciding the best thing to do would be to change the subject. “I’m afraid Mr. Henderson was right and I’ll need to get the foundation checked. I don’t think it’s inhabitable.”
For a moment he didn’t say anything, just sat at the table as she placed the steaming mug of coffee in front of him. She dropped into the chair across from him and added milk and honey to her tea.
“I am a contractor. I do remodels for a living and I don’t believe the problem is with your foundation.”
She perked up at that news. “Really? That would be great news because, honestly, I can’t afford that kind of extensive repair.”
She took a deep drink of the soothing chamomile. At first it hit the spot, but after a second her stomach flipped over on itself, sending a painful cramp slicing through her abdomen. She grabbed her middle and bent over.
Jason stood. “Are you all right?”
She tried to straighten but was in too much pain. She wanted to assure him that she was fine, but another racking wave shot through her. “I’m sorry. I must be coming down with something.”
“You should lie down.” He reached for her, his hand on her arm, pulling her out of the chair.
“Oh, I couldn’t. We still need to discuss....” Sudden weakness and a spike in her temperature killed the words on her lips. But she had to say them. They had to talk. How could she sleep with a strange man in her house? And what was she going to do with him? He couldn’t stay in the apartment, foundation issues or not.
“I insist.” He slipped his hand around her waist, helping her walk. And once he did, once she stared up into those gorgeous pale bluish-gray eyes of his, she knew she couldn’t fight him. But more than that, she knew she didn’t need to fear him. Though, for the life of her, she couldn’t imagine how she knew.
He led her into the living room and over to her large comfy couch. “Just for a little while,” he said as she fell into the deep cushions. He pushed the hair back from her face and it took all the effort she had not to tip her head into his hand. To seek comfort from him.
“I’ll check out the cracks in your apartment to see what needs to be done, then we’ll talk.” He looked around the room, noticing the cracks she’d tried to spackle on the wall above the TV.
Before she could respond, she started to drift off. She felt the warm familiar threads of