Page 7 of In the Cover of Darkness

“I found you on the roadside … he can't hurt you anymore.” Okay, now I just want to cry. I want to scream, and shout, and yell at someone. I feel completely and utterly overwhelmed at the idea of being safe. I've just experienced all of the emotions in under a minute I reckon. Oh hello, are you an emotion, please come right this way, there's an emotionally unstable and fragile woman ready and waiting for you.

I feel a wave wash over me while I try to hold in this tsunami of feelings, one that is subduing the rest, and it’s hope. Hope that I might have a chance at a future.

I stopped thinking what that might look like for so long, I forgot what it was to have hope, to have a goal to work toward. Passion and desire packed their bags a long time ago too, so right now at this moment I'm calling them back. Safe in my cocoon of warmth with Dante's soothing voice talking about … wait, is he talking about a dog? I'll have to ask him about that when I'm better and can thank him. In the meantime, I'm hunkering down and going to plan a future full of passion, desire, love and hope. Exhausted from the overwhelming situation I fall back into the darkness, happy and content.

Chapter 6 - Dante

"Dante, you can get out now, her temperature is perfect.” I wake to the voice of Dr Johnson next to me. I must have drifted off sometime in the night. I don't think I've talked that much ever in my life, but it made me more relaxed to have the illusion of a conversation, rather than just awkwardly cuddling a stranger in silence.

Slowly, I lift her head and move my arm from where she was resting on my bicep. I thought it would have gone numb by now, having her use it as a pillow for so long, but surprisingly it feels good. I quickly get dressed before taking what feels like the biggest stretch. Moving my body again after being in the same position for so long feels amazing. Now if I only had a coffee. I look down at the woman who seems to be glowing despite her injuries. I can tell she's beautiful, and in another world, if I met her in a bar I would have absolutely talked to her. That's the last thing I should be thinking though, especially as I realise my morning wood has appeared. I'd roll my eyes if it wasn't a daily occurrence. Morning wood has no concept of when it's appropriate to pop up. I nod at Dr Johnson as he gestures to me to follow him, adjusting myself quickly before taking one finallook at the woman lying peacefully in the bed, and head toward the door.

In the hallway, Dr Johnson is waiting for me by the nurse's station just out of sight from her room.

“Her vitals have all come back to normal. A nurse will come by shortly to take her through to x-ray,” he says, looking older than his years after working what I can only imagine was a long night.

“The sheriff arrived not long ago and said the snow is easing now and you can meet him in the break room. Grab yourself a coffee while you're there.”

Nodding, I'm relieved to hear there is coffee nearby and that I won't have to venture very far to get its life force surging through my veins. Turning, I make my way toward the break room eager to talk with the sheriff about my thoughts on the woman when Dr Johnson calls out, “And Dante, you did a good thing last night. You saved that woman's life. Thank you.” I look at Dr Johnson once more, giving a brief grin of acceptance before letting my nose guide me to the sweet smell of brewing coffee.

Entering the break room, I see the sheriff leaning against the kitchen sink with his eyes closed holding a steaming cup of coffee. He is an older looking man, with a small potbelly pushing against his belt, thinning hair and a kind face.

“You must be Dante, Ace's friend,” he says, not opening his eyes or moving a muscle.

“Yes, Sir. I’m Dante Carter. Pleased to meet you,” I say, holding out my hand ready to shake his.

“Hello Dante,” he says, opening his eyes for the first time, craning his neck to look at my face. “I'm Sheriff Miller. I've known Ace for a few years now. He's helped us out here and there when we've needed an extra pair of hands … unofficially of course,” he says looking toward the door, double checking we are alone.

Ace had mentioned it over the years when the sheriff would reach out for a favour every now and then. Everything was off the record, and only those that needed to know would. But he would help with small things like convincing a person to give up the animals they were abusing, or making sure an ex-boyfriend understood that breaking up did not mean you started stalking. Things that the sheriff could only take so far legally before a little nudge was needed from someone in the shadows, and Ace thrived in the shadows.

“Ace told me that you two served together, so when I ask what you think happened to this woman? I need you to know your words have meaning. That I can only do so much.”

Nodding, I understand fully what he's implying. That he will investigate and help this woman as much as he is able but she still needs to be willing to accept that help, and that if whoever did this appears, he might not be able to do anything at all. Bureaucracy can help a person as much as hinder them sometimes. “I'll do whatever is needed,” I say, staring directly at him, saying everything but with words that I will end this if it comes to it.

“Good. We found the car and there was a large amount of blood throughout. From what the doctor described of her injuries I assume it will all be hers, but we will send some off to the lab when we are able to. We need to take her statement when she wakes as well. The car is registered to a Mr Trevor Brown from several towns over. She's driven a long way to get here. The car has not been reported stolen at this stage either which is good''.

I frown at his last words not understanding that it's a good thing. “If he reports it stolen then doesn't that open the door to him being arrested for battery?” I ask.

Taking a large sigh and looking anywhere but at me, Sheriff Miller replies, "Yes, but it also means he opens the door saying she stole the car. The door swings both ways here, so right now it's good that we can get a head start on determining the outcome in her favour. We're not here trying to arrest her for anything at this stage, but if he's out for vengeance he will try and get to her by whatever means possible. I've seen it more times than I care to admit. This is only the start for her in getting away from this man.”

I grunt at his words, my mind going a million miles per hour. What the fuck kind of world is it where the victim can also be blamed for trying to escape a volatile situation?

“We have her details from her wallet so I've put a note in the system that if her name is mentioned anywhere it will alert me, but right now we just have to wait for her to wake up and hope that she remembers everything.”

“You have her details,'' I say, feeling my eyebrows raise, hearing the tone in my voice shift in its curiosity. Never once did I think to ask if anyone knew her name. A small smile appears on Sheriff Miller's face, “Yes son, her name is Mila. Mila Jackson.”

Mila, I think, Mila Jackson. A thousand questions instantly come to me, wanting to know everything I can about her, but before I can ask anything more a scream erupts from down the hall, shattering the silence of the medical centre.

Chapter 7 - Mila

Fuck, not again, why does this always happen to me. There I am in my blissful state of relaxation before I'm abruptly woken by a man who looks as old as Father Time, trying to get into my bed, grabbing at me.

He's mumbling under his breath, talking about a woman called Diana. It's hard to make out any other words but he seems to be making himself quite comfortable, adjusting the blankets of my bed over himself. Me, on the other hand, I’m standing practically naked, except for a pair of black cotton panties, with my back pressed against the wall. I can only move a couple of metres from the bed I was in because I have an IV drip in my arm. Thank gods I at least have panties on as it allows me to cover my breasts, but it doesn't solve the issue of how the fuck do I get away … again!

Before I can even start to think of an escape route, I hear what I can only equate to thunder coming from the hallway, the door to my room smashing open, practically coming off its hinges. The painkillers I'm on must be the good stuff because standing before me is the largest man I have ever seen. He takes up theentire door frame and I swear he instinctively ducked his head when he entered the room. His hair is as black as the night sky, and his blue eyes are as bright as a Tahitian lagoon. He has the start of a beard growing, either that or he has not shaved in a few days, and a few tattoos peak above his collar. His eyes are quickly darting between me and old man Father Time who is making himself comfortable. Before I can even register what is happening, he is standing in front of me and I'm looking directly at his back.

Hismassiveback withbulging muscles.

If Superman and a giant Viking had a baby this man would be the result. One of his arms reaches behind him and comes around me, pressing my front into his back. It's not forceful and I don't feel scared, but it's like he's trying to shield me from danger. I guess old man Father Time could be considered a danger, but I wasn't afraid like I was with Trevor. It was more that I screamed in fright rather than being scared.

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