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“Call me Jacob.” The car rolls to a stop in front of a rustic little cabin.
“Where are we, Jacob?” I don’t know how long we were driving.
“For now, it’s home.”
“So we live together? This is moving really fast. First we get a pet. Now we’re moving in together.” He doesn't say anything. “It was a joke. You’re supposed to laugh.”
“I don’t laugh.”
I smile. “Challenge accepted.”
5
JACOB
“Bernie, come on.” I grab his cage and carry him into the cabin.
“This is … beautiful.” She steps from the SUV as I return to her.
“This land goes way back in my family.”
“We used to live near a lake when I was a little girl.” Her eyes wander across the dark water beyond the grassy slope to our right.
“This one’s full of crappie, snapping turtles, and alligators if you believe the tales of my grandfather.” I shake my head. “But don’t worry. Ownership is hidden through a maze of shell corporations. No one knows about this place anymore.”
“So we’re out here. All alone?” She yawns as an owl flies overhead and lets out a warbling series of hoots.
“It’s safe.” I take her tote bag and offer her my arm. What I want to do is sweep her off her feet and carry her into the cabin, but I’m trying to be gentle. As gentle as a man like me can be. After all, this ismyworld, not hers. The violence and the blood--my domain. A woman like her should never have to deal with this mess.
“I think I killed those guys with a pandacorn.” She looks up at me, her eyes tired but still bright.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think there was a note of pride in her voice.
“I mean, I didn’twantto kill them,” she says as I guide her onto the pine porch and into the cabin. “I was just trying to get them to go away.” Her face falls. “But I loved that pandacorn. Sad to see it go.”
Her sadness burrows under my skin. I have to fix that, to keep her just as bright as she always is.
I set her bag down next to the bed along the back wall, then help her to it and sit her down. “I’m going to make a fire.”
She pulls my coat around her tighter, and more than a little satisfaction courses through me that she’s getting my scent all over her.
“Bernie.” I drop to my haunches and open his crate. “Be nice. I’m lighting a fire then setting up your litter. But if you put so much as a scratch on--”
He struts past me, a purr already starting in his throat as he rubs his gray tabby body against Margaret’s leg.
She reaches down. “Hello, Bernie. Very nice to meet you.”
He sniffs her fingers for only a second, then rubs his chin on them, inviting her to scratch him. She obliges, his purr intensifies, and I stand and stare at them. He’s never even gone near anyone else, much less thrown himself at someone. When I got him from the pound, he was alone in a cage, his ears down, eyes wild, hissing so loud it sounded like a gas leak. No one there dared go near him. I chose him immediately. And at my place? I rarely had guests, but when I did, he’d make himself scarce. But now, he was whoring himself out to Margaret, prancing and turning as if he was in love.
“What?” She looks up at me, those hazel eyes a deeper gold in the dim light.
“Nothing.” A feeling creeps through. Something warm. Something I can’t recall ever sensing before.
I back away and head out the door to the woodshed around the side. The top has held since last winter, the wood dry as I pick up some sticks of kindling. Pausing, I pull out my burner phone and see if I can get a signal. No dice. Good. I don’t want us traced at all. Though the phone’s a burner for emergencies, I don’t want it sending out any kind of signal.
Loading the wood into my arms, I toe the front door open again and shut it against the wind with my backside. I set it neatly beside an old potbelly stove, then open the front grate, arrange the kindling and a few logs, and start the fire.
“You’re such a good boy,” Margaret coos as she lies on her side and Bernie rubs against her.
