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8
MARGARET
My emotions get the best of me. I burst into tears. I fall on the bed and pull the blanket over my head so I can have a good cry. It wasn't only because he left me. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
I keep crying, happy that he’s at least not around to see me be a blubbering mess. Everything is finally sinking in. All the unbelievable events of the past 24 hours.
I can feel Bernie trying to paw his way under the blanket with me. I pull it down some. He darts up toward my head and cuddles in closer to me. He lets out a low meow.
“I’m fine.” I pet him. I sniff, trying to get myself to stop crying. It’s upsetting Bernie.
“I’m all better.” I turn and give him a kiss on the top of his head. I close my eyes and try to relax. Try to forget the fact that I’m out in the middle of nowhere alone. I nod off for a minute, but Bernie’s loud purring wakes me up. Between the snoring and the purrs, I’m not too sure he’s the best companion to share a bed with. Not that I’d ever tell him that. His cuteness more than makes up for it.
“Is he always this way, Bernie? I’m thinking you know him better than anyone.”
He keeps rubbing his head against me. Mr. Black runs so hot and cold. One second I think he wants me and the next he can’t get far enough away from me. My mom always told me not to let a man tell you twice that he doesn't want you. He hasn’t outright said it, but some of his actions are saying it for him.
I let out a long sigh, feeling a little bit better. A good cry always does that for me. Well, somewhat better. My life is crap. I can’t even call it my life anymore. That ‘me’ doesn't exist anymore. I sit up and throw my legs over the side of the bed. I stretch as I stand up and look around the cabin. This place is really cute. It might be romantic if I weren't on the run from someone trying to kill me.
I walk over to the window and peek out. The sun is high in the sky. It looks beautiful. “Do you think I can sit on the porch, Berns?” He stares at me, not saying anything. “Are you ignoring me now? I gave you a nickname. That makes us like best friends.” I don’t know if that’s true, but it sounds good. He jumps off the bed to rub himself on my legs while purring loudly. I’m guessing it’s his way of accepting my friendship.
All this talk about friendship has me thinking about Selena. Will I ever speak to her again? Is she in danger because she helped me break into the file? Could they even trace that back to her? Crap.
“You know what? You just gave me an idea, Berns. When Mr. Black gets back . . .” I trail off. He’ll come back. He wouldn't leave me. Not after all he’s done. His cat is here, too. No man would choose to walk this world without his cat by his side. I clear my throat and start again. “When he gets back here I’m going to give him the silent treatment.” Berns lets out another meow, clearly agreeing with my plan.
Before I can spring into silent action, I need to clean myself up. I snag my bag and take it into the bathroom with me.
I flick the light on and meet my reflection in the mirror. Well, that solves the mystery of why he ran out of here so fast. I step closer to the mirror to look at my mess of hair. I hope I have a brush or hair tie in my bag. My eyes drift lower.
“Oh my.” I pull my shirt down to see all the marks on my neck. I trail my finger over the spot where he bit me. I think it’s going to bruise. Not that it takes much for me. I bruise like a peach. It doesn’t hurt. In fact, it’s part of the reason why I orgasmed so hard. The thought of him leaving his mark on me had pushed me over.
I feel my nipples tighten under my shirt thinking about that. When I’d felt his hand drift across my stomach this morning, I’d pushed myself back into him. His cock pressed right up against my backside. I wasn't sure if he was sleeping or looking for a cuddle, so I lay there enjoying being close to him. For so long I’ve had a crush on him. I would often fantasize about him, but nothing can come close to the real thing.
He never looked at me twice when I was in the office. I wonder if it has to do with my talking too much. I know a few of the staff think I’m annoying. That’s what I’ve overheard a few times. Gwen in accounting said it right to my face. I didn't tell her that she had lipstick on her teeth. It might have only been for a few minutes--because I felt guilty and went back and told her--but for two glorious minutes, I was a real bitch.
I bend down and dig through my bag. I find a brush, my Invisalign, my toothbrush for after lunch at work, and lip gloss. That's a pretty good score. A lot of what I shoved inside my bag was a blur. I feel deeper, past a few clothes, and then my fingers trace along something small and hard. I grimace and pull my hand away. The thumb drive with all of Mr. Baines’s dirty laundry. I’d grabbed it in my rush.
Pushing the fear down, I withdraw my hand and take a few breaths, then use the bathroom before brushing my teeth and hair. I add the lip gloss, because why not? I put everything on the sink. I might as well make myself comfortable in this place.
I dig out a pair of pants and my pink Cookie Monster shirt. I guess I’ll have to go with the cutesy look, though I doubt Mr. Black is going to find this attractive. It doesn’t exactly scream sexy. I roll my eyes at myself. There’s only me to blame. I’m the one that clicked the button on Amazon. In my defense, I didn’t exactly have time to coordinate outfits last night.
I pull the pants on and then the shirt. I look at myself in the mirror. These cookies aren't going to bring any boys to my yard. I grab the corner and tie it up. It shows off a little of my belly. I bend forward and back, looking in the mirror. This is when I’d usually call Selena and ask her if I could pull this off. I poke my squishy stomach.
He left hickeys all over me. He thinks I’m cute. Right? But does he think I’m sexy?
“Forget it.” I flick the light off and leave the bathroom so I don’t keep looking at myself in the mirror. A few more seconds, and I would have duck-faced. Can’t have that. Bernie sits on the bed flicking his tail back and forth, watching me.
I look around the cabin. If we’re going to be staying here, I could do a little clean up. I start with the bed before I move a few things around to straighten the place up. I don’t have much to work with. I grab two tall glasses from the cupboard.
“Come on, Bernie.” I head to the front door.
No one knows we’re out here. I peek through the window and take a look around. Trees, trees, and more trees. Seems clear, so I open the door and step out onto the porch. The wind blows gently. It’s a really nice day out. That’s saying a lot, because I don’t like the outside ninety percent of the time. I walk over to where I see flowers. Bernie sits on the porch watching me, his tail flipping back and forth.
I fill both cups with purple and yellow flowers. I take them back inside and place one on the small table and one by the sink. It’s not much, but it’s a little something to brighten up the place.
“Margaret.” I jump and let out a scream.
Mr. Black is standing in the door with his eyes trained on me. I can’t read his expression.
