Page 8 of Easy

Chapter8

My home isa little tiny house on three acres of land just north of the city. I’m halfway between Abilene and Anson with nothing but stars as neighbors. This was intentional when I first moved here. I was infatuated with the solitude and serene nights. I’ve traveled the world and stayed at the most elite resorts and hotels, but the night sky here compares to none. It blows the Caribbean stars out the water.

The entire milky way glitters across my backyard, and I loved it so much that I made a special modification to the tiny house and had dual skylights installed over the bed in the upper loft. The old Texan warned me about hail and wind, saying it wasn’t frugal and that I’d be replacing those panes of glass every time a storm rolled through, but I was in love with the sky and the freedom it offered. I like thinking that I’m small, a grain of sand on a beach, inconsequential. It’s so much more devastating when you’re important and fail to be everything required. I’ve failed. Hard.

I unlock the door, and he follows me inside. I’m standing in my hotel-room-sized house with a man who fills half of it. The outside of the little house has a Norwegian flare with cedar shingles stained gray and overflowing flower boxes under narrow vertical windows trimmed in white. A square wooden deck stands before a cobalt front door flanked with two white chairs.

The first floor has my living room, kitchen, and bathroom while the upper loft holds my bedroom. It literally takes one stride to change rooms, and since I never have any company, my things are out—books, magazines, nail kit, laundry, etc. A dim bulb illuminates when we push inside the room thanks to home automation. I’m off the grid here with generators and solar panels for electricity, rain barrels for the shower, and a compost potty that isn’t as nasty as it sounds. I have no internet and no land lines. There’s nothing that will ping that this little house even sits here when looking through utility bills. I bought the land with cash, purchased the house the same way, all under an alias. I was careful, so careful.

That’s why this one action seems so reckless. I’ve brought someone to my hiding spot. But I’m already found. My time here is limited. This house will be left behind even though I wish I didn’t have to walkaway.

My heart hammers into my chest, slapping it silly. I wasn’t the type of girl to turn into a hermit and live alone. I love people, the sounds of the city and the way it sings at night, the symphony of sounds on a summer night in Manhattan cannot compare.

Swallowing hard, I glance back at my guest as he closes the door behind him. The intimate space suddenly feels too revealing. Intending to back toward the door to open it again and show him out doesn’t go as planned. He doesn’t move. His neck cranes as he looks around the tiny home with awe, lips slightly parted, and eyes filled with something I don’t recognize. It can’t be wonder. Shock, maybe?

Either way, wonder and shock are knocked out of him when I slam into him, butt first followed by a sharp elbow. I’m shaking now, not sure what’s wrong with me. I stutter, trying to find words, making old movements that no longer make sense, like tucking long hair behind my ear. There’s nothing to tuck, so my fingers flail before I forget and shake out my hands mumbling something unintelligible along the lines of, “This was a bad idea. I can’t—I—”

Chase nods as if he understands and slips away from me, taking his warm certainty with him. He places his hand on the doorknob and moves away from me as he opens the little door. “It’s shock,” he pauses and shakes his head once, foolishly, “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. If I unsettle you, we should call someone else, but you shouldn’t be alone tonight. The hospital isn’t far from here. Let me drive you. They can stitch you up and call your family.”

I shake my head once, sharply. “No. No hospitals.”

They’ll run me through their system and suddenly every Ferro alive will know where I’m hiding. I swallow hard and keep my eyes fixed on the thick pine slats on the floor. I could call Lizzie. She’d be here in a few hours if she took the Ferro jet. No one would stop her. She could be in the air before my parents realized it. My eyes shift back and forth, thinking. I wanted to be left alone for a while, until I knew what to do. Involving more people puts everyone at risk. I can’t do that to her. I shouldn’t do it to Chase either.

He nods solemnly in front of the open door as if he understands. Folding those strong arms over his chest, he suggests, “A friend, then?”

“No.” I shake my head and walk toward the couch, barely two steps away from the door and flop down onto the violet fabric. Chills overtake me and I shudder violently. What the hell is happening? Why am I shaking so much? I’ve done worse, lived through horrible things, and this never happened to me before.

I feel his eyes on me, a sympathetic gaze that would condemn me as soon as he realizes who I really am and what I’ve done. He’s a good man, I can see that even through this frozen haze of fear. It licks at my skin, freezing my bones, and edging me too close to crying. I tighten my stomach and swallow the sobs but I’m racing the clock.

Chase moves slightly, his fingertips caressing the stubble on the hard angle of his jaw. Then he taps his cheek with his index finger, glancing at me while he does it. “I can’t leave you alone. It would be incredibly cruel. You have no reason to trust me, but I won’t give you a reason to hate me. Listen, I’ll get you something to eat and you can try to lie down. I’ll stay on the deck and you can lock the door, but I’ll be here if you need me. Don’t ask me to leave you alone, because I don’t think I can be that bastard. Not tonight.”

When I glance up, our eyes lock. The softness that emerged earlier is back and pleading with me. It’s a look of empathy that I won’t receive if he figures things out, and this is a smart man—he will figure it out. But not overnight. And not from the porch.

I find myself nodding slowly, shivering. I wrap my arms around my middle and hold on tight, but it doesn’t stop. Coldness wraps it’s icy grip around my shoulders and slithers down my spine. I can’t chase itaway.

Chase clears his throat from the doorway. “I’m going to get you something to eat and find a blanket. Can I comein?”

I laugh at the absurdity of it, joking to take the concerned look off his face. I hate feeling broken. “Are you a vampire? Do I seriously need to give you permission?”

I’m shaking, holding myself together with my arms and failing. Every shallow stitch, every weak binding, is under pressure and ready to tear apart. Tears sting my eyes and I no longer blink them away. Instead, I lean forward and let my eyes close as I press my forehead to my knees. It’s better to hide behind snarky comments and shock than deal with the shitstorm headed my way. I gasp as another shiver rakes my spine.

“Where are your blankets?” I hear him ask urgently, and when I don’t reply he’s up the ladder and into the loft. Suddenly my bedspread is around my shoulders and tugged tightly under my neck. His hand is on my back as he whispers in my ear, “Sit up a little and hold onto this. Keep talking.”

I sit up a little and take the blanket, clutching it under my chin. I don’t lift my gaze. This feels too much like failure. I should never have to rely on anyone like this, never mind a stranger. “Are you this nice to all the girls who Tazeyou?”

He snorts. “Only the chicks who do it more than once. They need to be committed, youknow?”

“Committed to an asylum? That’s your type? Or are you talking about dedication?”

“Ah, isn’t that the question?” Chase is in my slim fridge pulling out bottles and packages. I have no idea what he’s doing because I can’t seem to focus. “I suspect the voltage is the real attraction. Getting Tazed makes mehot.”

I bark out a laugh unexpectedly, and tease, “That’ssexy.”

Chase glances at me from the kitchen counter, two steps away, those blue eyes filled with concern and concealed by a smirk. He’s me. The way he hides his emotions, the way he doesn’t respond or does the most preposterous thing. Something taught him to deflect people the way I do, but he’s not bitter about it. He’s not afraid.

He shrugs and goes back to piling a bunch of meat on a piece of bread. “I can’t deny who I am any longer. I admit it, I was prowling that bar and picking fights hoping to get juiced. You made my night, WeirdGirl.”

Snorting, I smile and lift my face. “I’m not the weird onehere.”