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Getting out, I try to dry off as best as I can without rubbing the towel against my sore spots, twisting it on top of my head to soak up the wetness in my hair. I pick through the clothes on the counter, feeling weird about wearing Nathan’s clothes if he does have a wife or a girlfriend.
I wouldn’t want my significant other loaning out their clothes to some woman I’ve never met, but I also didn’t choose to be here. I’m doing the best I can with the hand I was dealt. Still, this whole situation is making me sick to my stomach. I feel like such an inconvenience, like an intruder in someone’s home.
Begrudgingly, I pick up the black hooded sweatshirt, underneath it is a gray ARMY t-shirt. That makes sense, him being in the Army, and why he seemed so skilled back in the woods. I put on the t-shirt, then the hoody. There are track shorts, an army green color, and some sweatpants that match the black hoody. I choose the shorts, they’ll fit better and be easier to wear, because the sweatpants look way too big.
I have to pull the drawstring as tight as it will go, and fold over the band of the shorts, but they seem to stay put, the mesh fabric stopping about mid-thigh. Putting on a pair of black socks that he left, I can’t help but appreciate his hospitality. He didn’t have to help me and he doesn’t need to continue helping me. I’m thankful for it though, and I owe him my life.
Exiting the bathroom to meet him back in the kitchen, I try not to feel self-conscious about being here. Nathan is sitting on one of the bar stools, talking on the phone when I walk up, talking back and forth with someone.
Needing to busy myself while he finishes his call, I pull the towel off my head and continue drying my wet ends.
“…I’m not exactly sure where the incident took place, and neither is she. It started somewhere along the interstate… Yes, I-83. I intercepted them about a mile from access road 27… I was hunting… Yes, she’s safe with me… Tomorrow… Okay, I’ll call in the morning.” He hangs up with a shake of his head, spinning his phone in circles on the countertop like he’s still processing the call.
“Everything okay?” I ask, tentatively.
Of course, he doesn’t seem surprised that I’m standing behind him like he sensed my presence, but he also doesn’t turn to acknowledge me. I fidget with the towel in my hands, not sure what else to do or say.
“I called the county Sheriff’s office to report what happened, but the Sheriff has already gone home for the evening. The deputy I just talked to said to call in the morning because he is the only one on duty. Apparently, he only handles emergencies, and doesn’t take reports.” Nathan finally stops his fidgeting, glancing my way, his eyes lingering on my clothes. Raking his gaze back to my face, I look away before his eyes meet mine, feeling a little awkward.
“He didn’t even want to talk to me?” I ask, suddenly fixated on a speckle on the wood floor. I wasn’t expecting the lack of urgency from the police after being kidnapped and assaulted. My mind races, unsure of what this means for me.
“Honestly, he sounded like he could be a teenager. I’ve never encountered the Sheriff’s department, I’ve only lived here two months, but it must be a small town thing.” He seems more confused about it than me.
“I can stay at a hotel for the night, you’ve done more than enough,” I tell him, but my voice is weak and I still can’t meet his eyes.
“Absolutely not.” He sounds offended that I’d even mention it. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved. The thought of leaving and going to a hotel at this point sounds miserable.
“I opened some of the products in your bathroom. I’ll replace them or pay you back, I promise. I don’t want to be a burden on you,” I admit sheepishly.
“Callie, I don’t give a shit about that stuff. You can use whatever you want. And you aren’t paying me back.” He gets up and rounds the island, grabbing a plate of spaghetti out of the microwave.
“Here, sit, eat. Stop overthinking everything. I’m helping you. You are going to accept my help, and not fight it. Got it?” He questions, mimicking his commands from earlier in the day. His insistence dampens some of the unease in my stomach, helping me relax.
“Got it.” I scoot onto the bar stool, aware of every little noise I make with how silent it is. He stays standing, elbows leaning on the island opposite me, watching me. I realize he is waiting for me to eat my food. Just as he told me to. I pick up my fork, and take a bite, finally making direct eye contact with him.
“Happy now?” I ask, faking the courage I don’t have. His undivided attention is intense, making the knots in my stomach tighten for other reasons. Even if he is married, I’m not blind, he’s more attractive than any man should be. His attention makes me nervous. His dark eyes always seem to be searing into my soul.
“Almost.” He responds with a gesture indicating he wants me to eat more. So I do. I don’t know if it’s delicious, or if I was just starving, but once I start eating again I don’t stop until my plate is cleared. He stands there watching me the whole time. Normally, that would make me self-conscious, but I was too hungry to care. As soon as I finish my last bite, he takes my dishes and rinses them in the sink.
“I could have done that,” I say. Nathan glances back in my direction giving me a “really” type of look. I’m not used to being taken care of, it’s difficult to fight the impulse to do everything myself. I don’t care what he says, I’ll make everything up to him eventually. He’s already done more than I could ever ask for.
“Do you mind if I use your phone?” I ask him. “My mom is probably worried about me. I was supposed to be home hours ago.”
Chapter Twelve
Nathan
Unlocking my cell phone, I hand it to her, “Where’s home?”
I don’t know anything about this woman sitting in my home, eating the food I cooked, wearing my clothes. Looking damn good in them. I force my brain to backpedal out of that thought.
“Tennessee,” she answers with a sad smile. “I was in Georgia for a few months, but my family is in Tennessee.”
She dials the number she needs, walking over towards the couch while it rings, leaving me wondering why her answer seemed so sad. I turn towards the kitchen sink, trying to give her some privacy, but with no walls, it’s hard not to overhear.
“Hi, Mom, it’s me… Yes, I’m fine… I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner, my phone died… No, I’m in North Carolina. My car broke down and I had to get a tow.” She glances in my direction when she notices me looking at her now. I’m wondering why she lied, but she just shakes her head in my direction, continuing her conversation.
“I’m okay, really… No, I don’t need you to come get me. I’m staying at a Bed & Breakfast here in the mountains.” Glancing in my direction again, she shrugs.
