Page 14 of Secrets Within Us

I wondered pensively if he had a wife or a girlfriend who decorated the place. Was he the type of guy to lie in bed in only briefs, spooning a woman wearing only his shirt if he was committed to someone else? I didn’t see a wedding ring on his hand, but he also didn’t strike me as the type of guy who would have worn one either.

I tried deciphering some of the ink on his body without being caught last night, but it was useless. There were names on his skin, no doubt, but I couldn’t tell what they were or even guess who they were to him.

Great job Had; you’re attracted to a man who is probably married.

His wife was probably some crazy hot supermodel away on a photo shoot and I was just some beaten, ugly, frumpy chick who fell onto his property by chance. She’d probably come back home anytime now and find me here and kick me out back into the snow and bitter loneliness.

There was no way he wasn’t in a committed relationship, there was just something about the way he acted, always so protective and watchful, that made me think he had someone worth protecting out there somewhere.

So I did what any warm-blooded woman trapped in a lumber-snack’s remote cabin in the woods with no access to the outside world would do; I spent all day looking around the living space and his bedroom for any clues to tell me more about the mystery man named Kip that held me in his arms all night long like a man who cared.

But unfortunately, I found nothing.

Natta.

Zip.

Zilch.

There wasn’t a single picture or photo album or anything personal in the space. Not an article of clothing or a memento to show there was someone in his life.

There was, however, an enormous amount of bourbon in a liquor cabinet in the dining room. And in the garage off the back of the mudroom, there were a lot of empty liquor bottles.

He must spend his free time drinking.

Which was great, really. Super fantastic. Just the type of man I needed to spend my time with.

I selected a book from the shelf he had pointed out earlier and made myself comfortable in the recliner. As the warm afternoon light filled the room through the windows, I pretended I was on a fancy Aspen vacation, rather than on the run. The fiction I was reading was enough to let me escape from my reality for a while.

When I laid the book down after a couple of hours and looked around the room, I realized the peacefulness of the space was something I could easily get used to. New York City didn’t have this. There was always noise, even locked away inside your own home, you could always hear someone else living their life around you.

But here, there was only silence.

I walked up to the wall of windows at one point to look out over the property and caught sight of Kip, by a shed splitting wood. He had taken his jacket off and worked in just a flannel and his Carhartt pants.

Mesmerized by his fluid movements, I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he swung the axe with a captivating strength. The way his muscles strained against his clothing only intensified my attraction towards him.

I had never found big, muscled men attractive before, as I typically found myself drawn to the clean-cut business suit type I worked with. But there was something about the rugged strength of his body and personality on display that made me want him.

The thought of wanting a man, any man, someone who could overpower me and manipulate me, especially in the aftermath of what happened with that self-proclaimed “saint,” sent shivers down my spine.

Saint.

That’s what they had called him.

But the God I knew would never let a man like that into His eternal resting place if He knew what I knew about him.

I bowed my head and prayed as the sun warmed me through the window. I prayed for peace in my head and on my battered body, and I prayed the saint would find nothing but flames and pain where he was now.

Pain and flames just like the ones he’d used against me.

I was so consumed by the memories and thoughts waging war in my mind that I never heard Kip come into the house. I stood against the windows still, with the warm blanket from the chair I’d fallen in love with wrapped around my shoulders, watching the sunset over the treetops below when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

Startled by the contact, I instinctively leaped into the air, crying out in pain as my chest and sides throbbed relentlessly. I turned towards Kip in fight-or-flight mode before I realized it was him, then sagged into the window as I fought through the pain.

“I’m sorry,” He apologized frantically, “I called your name twice, and you didn’t answer. Are you okay?”

I nodded my head quickly as I swallowed back the scream that wanted to rip from my chest.

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