Gina Ranalli - House of Fallen Trees

“Sounds like he said quite a bit.”

“Not really. That was pretty much the gist of it.”

The two of them stood staring at each other, neither one wanting to be the first to drop their gaze.

Saul watched the exchange nervously and cleared his throat. “I think I need a drink.”

Rory glared at Karen a moment longer, then said, “You know where the whiskey is. Good night to both of you.” Dusty growled again, lowering her head slightly. Grinning sourly down at the dog, Rory said, “And goodnight to you too, Precious.” He flashed a last challenging glance at Karen before turning away and leaving the room. Karen, Saul, and Dusty all listened to his retreat as his footfalls faded away.

“Holy shit,” Saul said a moment later. “That was awkward.”

Karen chuckled. She couldn’t help it. “You think?”

He stood, stretched, brought his bowl to the sink and faced her. “Care to join me in a little libation?”

She smiled at him, couldn’t help but notice just how damned attractive he really was. “Hell, yes, I would. You wouldn’t happen to have a joint to go along with it, would ya?”

Saul laughed. “I’m afraid not.”

“Cigar? Cigarette?”

“Nope. Sorry. I like pretty pink lungs, personally. I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t. But it sure as fuck seems like a good time to start.”

“Yeah,” he said as he reached in a cabinet for a bottle of Jack. “I hear that.” They brought the bottle and two glasses into the living room and settled together on the sofa. Neither one of them scolded the dog when she jumped onto the lounger and curled up, ever watchful and wary.

The silence as they drank was surprisingly comfortable, each lost in their own thoughts for the first several swallows of the burning whiskey.

Karen felt another headache coming on and hoped the booze would stave it off for a while. At least she didn’t feel particularly sleepy at the moment, which, as far as she was concerned, could only be a good thing.

Sitting beside her with his glass held on one knee, Saul used his free hand to rub his nose every fifteen seconds or so until Karen giggled.

“You know what they say about an itchy nose, don’t you?” she asked.

He squinted at her. “No, what?”

“You’re either going to kiss a lover or get into a fight.” She smiled coyly around the rim of her glass as she tipped it to her mouth.

Saul gave this some consideration before saying, “Well, we’re not lovers, so I guess I’d better put on my boxing gloves.”

“Ouch.” She could already feel the alcohol making her bolder than she would have been otherwise. But was she really attracted to Saul? Or was it just the circumstances? True, he was a nice guy, and very good looking, but still. She knew she couldn’t deal with even a hint of romantic entanglement right now. In fact, she didn’t think she’d be equipped to handle romance in her everyday life. Not for quite some time.

Grinning mischievously, Saul said, “You think I’m hot, don’t you?”

“Ha! Don’t flatter yourself, bi-boy.”

He laughed and Dusty’s ears pricked up as she watched them from across the room.

Saul’s laughter was cut short as he rubbed his nose again. “Damn. My nose is so fucking itchy.”

She giggled again. “I have no idea why I find that to be so amusing.”

Ignoring her, Saul put his glass on the floor and then rubbed his nose vigorously before moving on to scratch his head, then reaching down to his right shin and rubbing at it through the denim of his jeans.

Karen stopped laughing as he scratched at his neck. “Are you allergic to anything?”

“Not that I know of,” he said, back to using his whole palm to rub his nose. “This is fucked up.”

Dusty lifted her head and whined at them.

Karen looked at the dog, then back to Saul. “You’re not allergic to dogs are you?”

“Hell, no. I’ve had dogs my whole life.”

“Do you have a dog now?” She was fairly certain he didn’t. She’d spent her first night in Washington at his house and had seen no evidence of a dog.

“No.” He was using his right hand to scratch at the inner part of his left wrist. “Fuck. Maybe I should go take a shower.”

“Do you know if there’s any Benadryl in the house?” Karen asked. “That’s usually the best thing if it’s an allergic reaction.”

“I don’t know. Can you scratch my back, please? Left shoulder blade.”

“Sure.” Karen put her glass down as he twisted on the sofa. She pulled up his shirt, exposing a perfectly toned brown back with a dark tribal sun tattoo in the upper center of it.

She scratched his back where he directed, moving from his shoulder blade down to the left side of his ribcage, then up to the other shoulder blade and back again. Saul groaned, she couldn’t tell if it was in frustration or pleasure. He was still busily trying to scratch half a dozen other parts of his body while she worked on his back.

“God dammit,” he cursed. “What the fuck…”

Dusty jumped off the lounger and gave Karen a pleading look, whimpering quietly. Karen said, “I think I’d better take the dog out. You said she’s not housebroken and I’m gonna go out on a limb and say Rory wouldn’t appreciate any dog accidents on his antique rugs.”

“Yeah,” Saul nodded, though she didn’t think he was listening to her at all.

She watched him trying to scratch everywhere at once for a few seconds longer before getting to her feet. “If you don’t want to look for the allergy med, I’ll see if I have any in my bag when I get back, okay?”

“Okay, yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

Worried now, Karen went to the front door, the dog automatically following her. Casting one last glance over her shoulder at Saul, who was paying no attention to her whatsoever, completely absorbed in itches, she unbolted the door and stepped out into the full-blown night with tiny icicles of dread forming in her blood.

Closing the door behind her, she thought, now what ?

The moment they were out the door, the dog ran off into the darkness and Karen knew she wouldn’t be back that night, preferring instead whatever little nest she’d made for herself in some safe corner of the surrounding area.

Karen was sad to see her go and even felt a twinge of fear at the animal’s departure. And betrayal. As if they had already been lifelong friends and Dusty was abandoning Karen to whatever horrific thing that might assault her next.

She didn’t have long to feel sorry for herself though, because after standing in the dark for no more than five minutes, trying to mentally will the dog to return, the screaming began.

It was coming from inside the house and Karen whirled, raced up the porch stairs two at a time and burst through the door and back into the living room to find Saul naked and writhing on the floor, stripped of all his clothing, raking bloody tracks over his skin with his fingernails. An instant later, she was at his side, kneeling down, terrified at the sight of what he was doing to himself as well as the obvious agony he was in.

Rory pounded down the stairs, wearing only sweatpants, shouting, “What’s wrong?”

Karen shook her head helplessly as Rory crouched beside her. “He just started scratching himself. He said his nose was itchy and now this!”

Saul rolled around on the floor, tears squirting from his eyes as he shrieked and cried, carving every inch of skin within his reach. His chest, belly, arms, legs, face, neck, feet, buttocks and even his genitals were beading up with blood, the skin accordioned from merciless gouging.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Rory yelled. “What do we do?”