Tall, Silent And Lethal Part 8

"I'm going downstairs to check on my sister. Do you think you'll be okay for a moment?" Christofer asked, reaching over and pushing her now soaked hair out of her face.

"I-I'm f-f-fine," she stammered through her chattering teeth. "Y-you don't n-need to c-come back."

Of course he ignored her. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Cloe," he said firmly as he walked out of the bathroom, leaving her alone.

As the hot water streamed down her body, delivering much needed warmth, she fought against the urge to close her eyes and simply savor it. Although she doubted he would get a chance to come back before she was out of the shower, she didn't want to take the chance of him coming back and getting a glimpse of her back.

He would either react with pity or disgust and right now she didn't have the energy to deal with either. She didn't know which reaction she hated more, but she knew that she didn't want to see either expression on his face. She wasn't sure why it mattered what Christofer thought since it was more than obvious that he didn't want her here, but it did.

The boyfriends she'd had over the years, granted there hadn't been many, either tried to play it off like it was no big deal or flat out lied, but she never missed the looks of pity or revulsion on their faces whenever they saw her back. While most women would probably hide their scarred backs, she didn't. She didn't exactly flaunt it or make a big deal out of it, but she did use it to see just what kind of man she was dealing with.

There were a few guys that took one look at her back and walked away and although their reaction disappointed her, it never really bothered her. If they couldn't deal with the scars covering her back, making her less than perfect, then that was more than fine with her. She wasn't looking for "Mr. Right" anyway. She just wanted someone that she could spend a little time with every now and then to forget her troubles. The guys that managed to pretend that her back didn't bother them had provided her with the only thing she allowed herself, casual companionship.

That is until she'd met Aidan. In the beginning he'd been great, fun, kind and unbelievably great in bed. He hadn't seemed to mind her scars. In fact, they'd actually seemed to turn him on. At first she'd thought it was sweet, but soon after they began sleeping together it started to creep her out just a little bit. When she tried to pull away and end things he became possessive and she hated to admit this, but he actually started to scare her a little bit.

Not too long after she'd ended things with him the late night phone calls began. When she spotted him when she left the house she was a little weirded out, but didn't think much of it. It wasn't until she'd noticed that she couldn't even go out to grab the mail without seeing him that she realized that she had a little problem on her hands and decided to cut her losses and get out of Florida.

It had been past time to go anyway. She never stayed anywhere for very long and she'd already stayed in Florida a year longer than planned. So she'd contacted the agency that she worked for and looked into what they had available before she'd decided to give New England a try.

Now she was living in a house with a man, who admittedly p.i.s.sed her off a lot and amused her, but one that for some strange reason actually mattered. He could be a real jerk sometimes, well most of the time, but the thought of him looking at her with revulsion had her stomach churning. She didn't know why it mattered. It really shouldn't, but it did.

If she were going to be honest with herself then she'd admit that she liked the way he looked at her when he didn't think anyone was watching, but she always knew. It didn't matter what she was doing, the moment his eyes landed on her she sensed it.

The way he watched her made her feel desirable and beautiful. She knew that she was being ridiculous and that nothing would ever happen between them. His sister was her employer and that made him a complication. Not to mention Aidan. After dealing with him, she needed a break from men, but that didn't mean that she wanted him to suddenly look at her with anything close to pity or disgust.

Still shivering, she shut the water off and stepped out of the bathtub. Why couldn't she get warm? She reached for one of the folded towels she kept stacked on the corner of the sink counter and ended up knocking the small pile onto the floor with a trembling hand.

With an annoyed sigh, she knelt on the floor to pick the towels up. Her hands only trembled more violently when she tried to grab them. She needed to get it together and stop freaking out. Nothing happened. She was fine. It had been a horrible experience, but she'd had worse, much worse.

A towel was suddenly draped over her shoulders, startling her and she reacted. She swung back, barely registering the grunt of pain as she pulled her fist back to do it again. She kept on swinging until she found herself pinned against the tiled wall, panting hard as her body shivered violently.

"Calm down!" Christofer snapped and it was then that she realized that she was still fighting him. "It's okay, Cloe. Shhhh, it's okay," he said soothingly as he released his hold on her arms to gently cup her face in his hands. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

She almost snorted at that. Right now she was so far from okay that it wasn't even funny. He'd surprised her, scared her and any other day she probably would have been able to laugh it off, but not today. Not when old memories were threatening to take over and suffocate her.

"Don't sneak up on me!" she snapped, shoving him back, surprised when he complied.

He held his hands up as he took a step back. "I didn't mean to scare you," he said softly. She noted the red marks on his face and the blood dripping from a small cut on his lip, but if he noticed it didn't show. As badly as she felt about hurting him, she wouldn't apologize. He'd scared the h.e.l.l out of her by sneaking up behind her and she'd reacted like any other woman would when a man who had no business being in her bathroom startled her.

"You didn't scare me. You surprised me," she snapped, s.n.a.t.c.hing one of the towels off the floor and wrapping it around herself. She was relieved when he didn't follow the movement with his eyes. The last thing she needed right now was one of his smoldering looks that usually set her body on fire. Right now it would make her feel too d.a.m.n vulnerable and she didn't need that. She needed to get it together and push through this.

He frowned down at her. "You're still shivering," he said on a sigh as he headed for the door. "Get some clothes on and I'll see if I can find another blanket for you."

"I'm fine!" she yelled after him. She was fine, more than fine. Everything was fine. The important thing was that she was alive and no longer stuck in that old musty shed. As soon as she was able to stop shivering she'd be better than fine.

Ignoring her trembling legs, she walked into her room and quickly pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants and a pair of socks all while keeping an eye on the door. When she was done and didn't feel even an ounce of additional warmth, she crawled in bed, pausing only long enough to turn on the lamp by her bed to brighten the already bright room up a little more, and then snuggled beneath the covers.

Why couldn't she get warm? She was wearing clothes and there was a mountain of blankets on top of her, but it felt as though she was only covered by a thin layer of tissue. She was so d.a.m.n cold, she thought miserably as another shiver rocked her body.

"I found another quilt and a blanket," Christofer announced as he walked back into the room. Without another word, he placed the blankets over her.

"T-thank you, Christofer," she stammered, closing her eyes as she willed her body to stop shivering. "I'm fine now. Thank you," she said, hoping that he would leave. She just needed a little time to pull it together. By morning she'd be as good as new. She just needed to get warm first.

"We'll see if that helps," he said just as her mind registered the sound of wood creaking. She opened her eyes to find him sitting in the old wood rocking chair in the corner of her small room, watching her.

"You can go now, Christofer. I'm fine," she promised him even as another tremor tore through her body, leaving her with no choice but to grind her teeth against the pain racing up and down her muscles.

She heard him sigh heavily and looked up in time to see him pull off his shoes and the t-shirt he'd pulled back on at some point, leaving him bare from the waist up. If she hadn't been shivering so d.a.m.n violently or trying to calm her nerves she'd probably take a moment to simply enjoy the sight before her.

Had she ever seen anything more beautiful? She really didn't think so. Her eyes quickly took in his tanned muscular chest, ropes of muscle and perfectly sculpted abs. Okay, so maybe she took a moment between tremors to appreciate the sight before her. She was human after all. Thankfully another tremor tore through her body, helping her to focus.

"What are you doing?" she asked, hating the way her voice shook.

"Body heat," was all he said as he pulled back the covers of the small double bed and climbed in beside her.

It took her a moment to register what he'd said and when it did she was moving to climb off the bed. Unfortunately for her, he was a lot faster than her and had her yanked back into his arms before she could put up a proper fight. Of course, once she felt the delicious heat that he was giving off she didn't want to fight it anymore.

With a little grumble and a grunt, she turned in his arms and plastered herself against him. She ignored his hiss of surprise as she pressed her cool cheek against his shoulder. If he hadn't invited himself into her bed she might have felt bad, but then again, she wouldn't even be in this mess if he hadn't ditched her a.s.s today. This was his fault, she reminded herself as she placed her cold hand on his chest and nearly smiled when he released another hiss.

"Better?" he asked, sounding almost concerned, but she knew that he really wasn't. He was probably doing this out of guilt more than anything. Marta was mad at him and he was probably being nice to her to earn his sister's forgiveness.

If she hadn't already known that Christofer was the one that owned the house and had the money she would have suspected that he was using his much older sister. She'd seen it enough times to recognize the signs. She hated when relatives who didn't give a d.a.m.n showed up occasionally just to get on the good side of the elderly person she was working for to gain a spot in their wills. It was sickening and she was glad that it wasn't going on here. She really liked Marta, probably more than she'd liked any of her previous employers, and she didn't want to see her hurt.

The real reason, and something that actually stunned her once she'd realized what was going on here, was that Christofer genuinely cared about his sister even if he was lazy about showing it. In a way it was actually kind of odd. The two of them acted as though they'd been raised together when they had be at least fifty years apart. Sometimes Marta treated Christofer like the older sibling. That is, when she wasn't going out of her way to torment her brother. It was a little odd, but she'd seen odder things over the years.

"Go to sleep, Cloe. You're safe," Christofer said, earning a snort from her.

Yeah, right. Like she'd be able to sleep. She knew it would be several days before she managed to fall asleep. She'd be too d.a.m.n afraid to close her eyes, but she appreciated the offer all the same and of course the body heat.

She snuggled tightly against him as her eyes began to droop, noting that she felt oddly safe in his arms.

Chapter 11.

"What's wrong, Christofer?" Marta asked, appearing concerned as he made his way quickly down the stairs.

"Everything is fine. I'll be back in a minute. Grab your purse," he said, desperately struggling against the urge to go back upstairs and rip into Cloe's neck.

If he didn't get downstairs within the next minute he knew there would be nothing to stop the monster inside of him from taking over. Holding her in his arms all night had been heaven and h.e.l.l for him. Being that close to someone was something he usually never allowed for himself. He'd pleasured women before, but he'd never been able to relax his guard enough to hang around long enough to hold them afterwards or cared enough to do it. The only woman he'd ever cared about was Marta.

When they'd first escaped the camp, she'd been scared, traumatized, and in no shape to face the world alone. Every night he'd held her in his arms, singing all those songs that used to annoy him, but that she loved. He sang them until his voice was raw and she was sleeping deeply. Whenever she woke up in the middle of the night, he started all over again. He did that until she was a grown woman and no longer needed him.

Before he'd made his promise to Marta, he'd resigned himself to seeking a temporary escape in the arms of women. No matter how many women he'd pleasured, he couldn't escape the bitter loneliness or the creeping sensation that always reminded him that he couldn't trust them. He couldn't trust anyone but Marta and that knowledge made it d.a.m.n difficult to focus on the woman begging for more. More often than not, old panic would surge through him as he tried to take a woman and he'd have no choice but to leave. It was the main reason why he hadn't sought out a woman to warm his bed in over fifty years.

Last night while he'd held Cloe in his arms he'd willed her to fall asleep before the panic could take over and force him to flee her bed, but it never came. Instead, he found himself enjoying the feel of her in his arms. While she'd slept, he took his time studying her face, running his fingers carefully through her hair and breathing in her unique scent. Until a few hours ago he'd been able to ignore how enticing her blood was, but once hunger hit, it had become a struggle that he'd almost lost several times.

The sun hadn't been able to rise fast enough for him. When the cravings began a few short hours ago, he should have just left to save himself the torture of being near her and not being able to have her, but he hadn't been able to forget the fear that he saw in her eyes last night. That alone kept him in her bed and his arms wrapped around her. When the sun had risen high enough that he'd felt it was safe to leave her, he hadn't been able to get away fast enough.

Another minute and he would have ripped into her throat without a second thought. As he made his way downstairs, he had to fight against the urge to do just that. His stomach growled viciously as he caught a hint of her mouthwatering scent coming off his clothes. His hand shot out and grabbed the railing as he struggled for control. In seconds, the hardwood banister snapped beneath his hand as he fought his body's demand to go take what was rightfully his.

He shoved that disturbing thought away as he forced his feet to carry him the rest of the way to his refrigerator. In seconds, he had a bag of blood stuck on his teeth and another two in his hands, ready to take its place before the last drop was gone. By the time he'd moved onto his sixth bag, he was already calculating the amount of blood that he was going to need to order to make sure that there were no more close calls.

Even as he decided that the only safe way to do this was to triple his order, he realized that the smartest thing to do would be to send her away. It wouldn't be too difficult. After the scare she'd had last night it probably wouldn't be tough to make her want to leave. If he hadn't realized just how badly he'd f.u.c.ked up last night that's exactly what he would be doing.

Instead, he was making plans to binge on blood to keep her safe so that she could stay. If she'd had family, someone that he thought would take her in and care for her, he wouldn't hesitate in sending her packing, but she didn't. After Marta had refused to fire her the first night, he'd done a little investigating of his own. All of her family had been killed years ago in a lodge fire. She'd been the only one to survive, but she hadn't come out of it unscathed. Her back was proof of that.

She'd spent three months in a trauma center after the fire and then two and a half years bouncing around in the foster care system. Once she'd turned eighteen, she'd started to work a string of s.h.i.tty jobs while she'd put herself through school. Once she had her nursing degree, she used it to travel the country. It wasn't difficult to figure out that she didn't seem to like to stay anywhere for long. He doubted that she'd stay here for very long, but until he felt that she would be okay and he found her a new position that was safe for a young woman with no family, she was staying.

Chapter 12.

Before last night, Cloe could have honestly said that she didn't embarra.s.s very easily, but now.....

Now, she was actually looking forward to Christofer firing her this morning so that she had the excuse she needed to leave without looking like the coward that she truly was. Last night had been a mortifying experience, one that she fully planned on forgetting. The faster that she put distance between her and this house, the better.

She had no idea where she was going yet and she didn't really care. She just wanted out of here. She wanted to get away from that d.a.m.n shed, away from the nightmares that were even now threatening to destroy her and away from the memories of how pathetic she'd been last night. The only thing that she wished that she didn't have to leave behind was Marta, but she knew that it was for the best.

Marta was such a sweet, caring woman and it was going to kill Cloe to have to leave her. In just a few minutes she was going to be fired and really, what choice did she have in the matter? She'd been hired to take care of Marta and she wasn't doing it. Yesterday the poor woman had been left on her own and that had bothered Cloe almost as much as being trapped in that shed.

Actually, knowing that Marta was all alone with no way of getting home had cranked up her desperation to get out. She'd only known the older woman for a week, but she knew how stubborn Marta could be about protecting her from Christofer. There was no doubt in her mind that Marta would have done anything and everything to keep Christofer from finding out that Cloe wasn't doing her job, including walking home instead of calling Christofer to come pick her up.

Cloe had been terrified that the older woman would do just that. In between dealing with her own fear, she'd been terrified that Marta had walked home instead of asking for help. She'd hoped that Marta would ask someone at the center for a ride or call a taxi, but Cloe hadn't been sure that Marta had any money on her. When she saw the feisty older woman storm into the kitchen last night, healthy and whole, she'd felt herself relax, somewhat.

She'd still been on edge and it should have only gotten worse during the night, but somehow Christofer had managed to do what therapy, pills, time and prayers hadn't been able to do. He'd chased away her fear, made her feel safe for the first time in years and she didn't know how to deal with that. The only thing that she was sure of was that Christofer was a dangerous man.

He made her feel things that she had no business feeling and made her want things that she could never have. She was glad that he was a complete jerk. It helped keep things in perspective and kept her from doing something foolish like falling for a man that she could never have.

Long-term relationships weren't possible in her life, not with the need to move hitting her every couple of years. She couldn't handle anything permanent in her life, mostly because there was no such thing as forever. She'd learned that lesson the hard way.

She liked to live for the here and now and with anything permanent in her life she wouldn't be able to do that. That's why she didn't keep jobs for longer than was necessary or stayed in any one area for too long. She liked the freedom of being able to go where she wanted, when she wanted and right now she really wanted to leave.

She'd never been fired before, never wanted to be fired before, and she wasn't exactly looking forward to this. She'd always prided herself on working hard, being on time and giving a hundred and ten percent into everything she did the way her father had- No, she wasn't going to think about him. Not right now when she needed to keep it together and get through this. This time when he fired her, she would nod in understanding, thank him and Marta. She'd make her goodbyes quickly before she grabbed her bags and made a run for it.

Decision made, she picked up her duffle bag and threw it over her shoulder, grabbed the handle of her oversized suitcase and headed for the stairs. Pausing at the top of the stairs, she looked down at her watch and nearly sighed with relief. It was well after one o'clock in the afternoon, which meant that she'd slept through breakfast and lunch. Christofer now had more than enough reason to fire her, not that he really needed it today.

Telling herself that it was better to get this over with, she started down the stairs. When she walked into the kitchen she was relieved to find Christofer washing his hands at the kitchen sink since it saved her from having to hunt him down to get him to say his two favorite words.

"Is there something that you needed, Cloe?" he asked, not bothering to look up at her as he slowly scrubbed his hands clean.

A little taken off guard that he hadn't spoken those two words that he seemed to be in love with, she softly cleared her throat as she set her bags down. She opened her mouth and then abruptly closed it when she realized that she had absolutely no idea what to say. This was the first time that she'd ever tried to get fired and she had no idea how to go about achieving that without p.i.s.sing him off enough to call up the agency that she worked for and complain.

Since she decided which jobs she would accept, she wouldn't get in trouble for quitting if that's what she had to do now. For safety reasons they were allowed to abruptly quit. Normally they were expected to stay on until a replacement could be found, but if she told Marie, her contact at the agency, that she was uncomfortable with staying here a minute longer she would be allowed to leave immediately and still get work through the agency.

Getting fired wouldn't cause any problems for her since she'd never been fired before and there weren't any criminal concerns along with her termination. The only caretakers that had to worry about termination from the agency were the ones that were habitually fired, quit every job abruptly, were accused of stealing, elderly abuse or one of a dozen offenses that the agency specifically prohibited.

If he called up and filed a complaint about her, she wouldn't get fired, but she would have a black mark against her that could be used against her later and that wasn't something that she was comfortable with. She needed him to fire her without getting p.i.s.sed so that she could apologize, thank him for the opportunity to work with Marta and leave.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, still not looking at her as he turned off the faucet.

"Fine," she said, which was mostly true thanks to the sleep she'd been able to get last night. Her nerves were frayed and she was still slightly on edge, but it was manageable.

At least for the moment.

Right now she had two choices to keep it together, leaving or going back on her medication. Since she refused to go back on her medication that made her choice pretty simple. She was leaving. He could fire her a.s.s or she'd quit and hope that he didn't try to get back at her by calling up the agency. Either way she planned to put at least ten hours between her and this house by tonight.

He nodded absently as he dried his hands on a dishcloth. "Are you hungry?" he asked, looking at her for the first time since she'd stepped into the kitchen.

"No," she said, watching as he glanced down at the bags by her side.

"Why don't you go back upstairs and lay down? I'll bring you something cold to drink," he suggested, already grabbing a clean gla.s.s from the dishwasher to do just that and confusing her more than she ever thought possible.

For the past week he'd been firing her over every little thing and now that she'd made it more than obvious that she wanted to leave, he was letting a golden opportunity to fire her a.s.s slip by him. Worrying her bottom lip, she watched as he filled a gla.s.s with the lemonade that she'd made yesterday.

"I'm not tired," she said, deciding to give him another minute so that he could properly fire her.

"I see," he said with a slight nod as he set the gla.s.s of lemonade down on the counter.

Good, she thought, nearly sighing with relief as she leaned over to grab her bags. Before she could manage to do more than brush her fingertips over the handles, the bags were yanked away from her and carried past her. More than a little surprised, she turned to follow him outside.

At least he wasn't gloating, she thought, ignoring the slight disappointment that she felt that he hadn't at least tried to talk her out of this. He was no doubt relieved to finally be rid of her. Then again, he was probably waiting until they were outside, by her car and out of earshot of Marta so that he could gloat.

She should say goodbye to Marta, she realized, opening her mouth to ask him to hold up a minute when he took her by surprise and walked past the backdoor and headed upstairs with her bags.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" she asked, following him upstairs to take her bags back.

"Helping you bring your bags back to your room," he said, taking the stairs two at a time and forcing her to practically run up the stairs to catch up with him.

"I'm leaving," she pointed out, rushing after him as he headed down the hall towards the bedroom she'd been using.

"No, you're not," he simply said, not bothering to look at her or even slow his pace as he stepped inside the bedroom.

"Yes, I am," she bit out in exasperation as she finally caught up with him.

"You're staying," he said, tossing her bags on the bed before she could grab them.

With an annoyed sigh, she walked past him and grabbed her bags. "I'm really not, Christofer. You can either fire me or I quit, but I'm out of here."

"Wow, I didn't know that you hated my sister that much that you'd willingly subject her to my cooking," he said conversationally as she turned around and discovered that he was blocking the only exit from the room.