Iris Johansen - Dark Summer

"So now what?"

"I'll find another way. I can concentrate now. I wasn't thinking of much beyond getting you back in one piece."

"Bridget may be able to help. She was going to approach Danner and-"

"No Bridget."

"If she intends to help, then we should let her. She may be risking her life. She deserves our help."

"I can't trust her."

"If I can trust her after all she put me through, then you shouldn't have a problem."

"It's because of what she put you through that I'll never forgive her. Listen, I don't trust many people, but I trusted her. I'll never do it again. I won't risk you again."

"You don't have anything to say about what happens to me," she said coolly. "And for some reason Bridget is as concerned about you as she is the dogs. You'd be a fool to ignore an asset like that."

He didn't answer.

Stubborn, she thought in exasperation. She hadn't expected anything else. Neither had Bridget. But the more she thought about how alone Bridget was right now, the more she wanted to shake him. But she could tell by his closed expression that he wasn't going to be moved by argument. Maybe later.

She changed the subject. "Where do I sleep?"

"I set up a sleeping bag for you in the cave. Unless you'd rather sleep out in the open."

"I don't care. The cave's fine."

He smiled faintly. "I remember you had some objections to occupying the cave the last time it was discussed."

She felt heat flush her body. "Was that supposed to be provocative?"

"I hope it was. But it wasn't intentional. I know better than to make a move on you right now. I'm just glad you decided to come home."

"This is your home, not mine."

He shook his head. "It's your home, too. I give it to you." They had reached the cave, and he gestured for her to go inside. "I started a fire for you. It gets chilly after midnight. There's a change of clothes and a toothbrush in that duffel. And there's plenty of bottled water in the icebox."

She remembered that first day, when he'd reached into the box and brought out a bottle of water for her. He'd taken out a vial of Paco's potion and asked her to rub it into his wound.

Too many memories were flooding back. Stop before she remembered how she'd done it after they'd made love on the path. Too late. It was there before her, every move, every touch.

"Good night." She hurried past him into the cave.

He followed her. "I need to see that cut. How bad is it?"

"It's fine," she said quickly. "I don't need any of Paco's potion."

"I have to see it." He gently pushed her hair back from the bandage. He carefully removed it and traced the cut with his forefinger. He said thickly, "Damn Bridget."

She could feel her pulse leap under his touch. She stepped back. "Superficial. Just as she said. I don't even need a ban dage now that the bleeding has stopped. It's just a scratch. Leave it alone."

"This is all?" He paused. "Enright didn't hurt you?"

"I don't want to talk about Lester."

His gaze searched her expression, and he opened his lips to speak. Then he turned on his heel. "If that's what you want." He headed for the entrance to the cave. "I'll sleep out here. Call me if you need me."

"I won't need you."

"I'll still be here to guard you."

"I don't need that either."

"I need it." She could see him dropping down on the rock outside, his back to her. "I can't tell you how much I need to guard and protect you. No one is going to hurt or take you away again. That's sheer self-preservation. It hurt me too much when I thought I might have lost you."

Don't answer. Don't be touched. Keep the anger. Keep the distance.

She took off her shoes and climbed into the sleeping bag in front of the fire. She could feel the warmth from the flames stroking her cheeks. How many years had Marrok slept here before a fire with Paco on the other side? Had they talked, joked? She wished she'd known the old man. Because then she might be able to fathom the enigma that was Marrok.

Close your eyes. Sleep. You're not here to solve puzzles about Marrok. You're here to get Danner. You're here to help save the dogs of summer.

BUT SHE COULDN'T GO TO SLEEP. It was hours later, and she was still lying there. Every nerve, every muscle was taut, almost painfully aware of Marrok lying only yards away. She turned over for the hundredth time.

"Are you cold?" Marrok was standing in the opening of the cave. "Do you want me to put more wood on the fire?"

"No."

"I didn't think so." He sank down, sitting tailor fashion near the door. "I was just using it for an excuse. I don't think either one of us is going to sleep. There's too much left unsaid."

"I've said all I want to say."

"Not the words I want to hear. I'm trying to be understanding and sensitive, but it's not working for me."

"It never did."

"Enright. I saw your expression. He hurt you, didn't he?"

She stiffened. "We struggled. Of course, he hurt me."

"How?" he asked hoarsely.

"It doesn't matter. It's not going to happen again."

"How?"

"He grabbed me. He was strong. I bruise easily."

"I don't see any bruises."

"Leave it alone, Marrok."

"I can't. I have to see them. Show me."

"Will you go then?"

He nodded. "Show me."

She unbuttoned her shirt and slipped her bra straps down. "It's over. It doesn't matter."

"My God." He was looking at her swollen breast, which was livid with red-and-purple bruises. "He did that to you?"

"Bruises heal." She started to pull her bra straps up.

"No." He was suddenly beside her. "Not yet." His head was pressed against her breast. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." His voice was muffled. "I'm sorry I let him do that to you."

"You didn't let Lester do anything. He did it all himself." She forced herself to keep her arms at her sides and not slide them around him. "And not for long. Only until I was ready to fight him."

"You should have told me about him. You should have let me take care of him for you."

"I told you once before. I take care of my own problems."

"I can't let you do that. Not anymore."

"I think you'd better leave now, Marrok." She kept her voice steady with an effort. "You've got what you came for."

"No, I haven't." He lifted his head. His dark eyes were glittering in his taut face, and his lips were tight with pain. "I want to look at you for a minute. I want to remember what he did to you."

"Why on earth?"

"It's important." He bent his head and his lips gently brushed her breast. His cheek was warm, hard, and faintly rough against her flesh as he rubbed it back and forth. "Because every now and then it will come back to me and remind me that I have to make sure that nothing like that can ever happen to you again."

She felt a melting deep inside her. "Leave, Marrok. You said you'd go."

He didn't move for a moment, his cheek still pressed against her breast. "Okay." He sat back on his heels, pulled her bra straps up, and buttoned her shirt. "I won't touch you again." He stood up and went back to his former place near the door. "I just had to know. It was driving me crazy. Just let me stay for a little while longer." He leaned back against the rock wall and stared into the fire. "I've been thinking. I'm angry at Bridget, but I'm the one to blame for all of this."

"Yes, you are."

He smiled crookedly. "I can always count on you for honesty, can't I? But you see, I didn't realize what a bastard I was being. Did I want you to be safe? With all my heart. But there was another reason I asked Bridget to get you away from me." He paused. "I told you that I couldn't be as honest with you as you were with me. I had to push you away. You frightened me. I'd never felt like that before. It was like part of me was…" He stopped searching for words. "Flowing out, and I knew I might never get it back." He shrugged. "I'd been alone all my life. That's the way I wanted it. I don't know how to handle feeling like this."