Chapter 5 #2
Leaning against the wall to ensure she was hidden again, Owen crossed his legs at the ankles and placed his hand on his hip. "I am quite well. Thank you, Brother Broderick. I'm just a wee bit tired," his voice was slightly higher as he spoke.
Charlotte could see the red marks forming on his fingers where she had squeezed.
But that was the least of her problems at present.
She spotted a huge spider out of the corner of her eye and slunk back into the wall as far as she could.
Her breathing was labored as sweat began to gather on her skin.
Her fear was palpable as she said a silent prayer.
The spider in question was black, with hairy legs.
She swore that she could count each hair on its eight legs as it stared down at her from the corner of the ceiling.
I need to leave! Her mind screamed with growing urgency.
"I'm bidding ye good night, then. It was a pleasure chatting with ye tonight. See ye tomorrow morn, gentlemen."
"Right…" the first monk replied. "We should leave and take some sleep, too. Yer right!"
Owen bowed his head solemnly and stood up straight. Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief when the men finally began to make their way down the hall.
"One last thing," the first monk turned back.
Owen shifted his body to face the men, making sure that she was still hidden from sight. Her anxiety grew as the creature in the corner of the ceiling disappeared, concealed by the giant shadow that Owen cast into the alcove. For as long as she could remember, the fear of spiders tormented her.
"One can spend too much time on their own.
It's nae good for a man to be by himself.
That is why we live together in monasteries.
A solitary life can drive a man insane. As commendable as yer efforts are, community is key to a healthy mind," he stressed the points of healthy and insane to get his point across.
A quiet susurration of agreement erupted from the others.
"I'll keep that in mind as well, in fact," he said hastily, "I will go tae me room right now and make a list of all of yer fine suggestions so that I dinnae forget them in future," Owen finished as convincingly as he could.
"I think that's a fine idea," the monk agreed.
"I'll bid ye a good night then, brothers."
"Good night, Brother Owen," the monks said in unison as they finally left.
Charlotte let out a breath just as Owen turned to her, gripping her by the shoulders and easily pulling her up. "What were ye thinking, lass?" he shook her gently by the shoulders. "They could have seen ye and then it would have spelled the end for both of us!" he hissed.
She tried to mumble a reply, but all that came out were tiny whimpers of fear.
"Speak up, lass," he shook her again.
Pointing to the ceiling where the spider was once again visible, she choked back a sob.
Owen looked up and stared before looking back down at her and shaking his head. "I honestly dinnae ken if I should kill ye," his voice broke as he began to smile. "Or laugh at ye. All that fuss over a wee spider."
The tears fell down her cheeks as she began to tremble from the fear she had tried her best to suppress.
"Hey," Owen said more gently, tiling Charlotte's chin until she looked into his eyes.
"I didnae mean to frighten ye. I'm sorry ye had to hide in there," he quickly looked up when he heard more voices coming from down the hall.
Acting quickly, he looked to the left and right before stepping with her into the alcove.
She was so frightened of the spider that she didn't even realize it when Owen drew her into his arms and shielded her from the light and the spider. Perhaps it wasn't the spider, but it represented fear and darkness that bothered her so.
“Dinnae fuss,” he whispered gently in her ear. “Naething can touch ye now; I am here." He hugged her a little tighter to his chest as the voices passed without a hitch.
She breathed in the scent of his earthy soap as he held her tight, allowing her to cry into his chest. Charlotte felt the warmth of his toned body against her breasts as his presence enveloped her in a strange kind of comfort she'd never felt before.
His large hand covered her head as he stroked the short strands of her hair until the group of monks was down the hall. "Are ye all right?" he eventually asked as the voices faded away, gently pushing her out of the alcove once he was sure the coast was clear.
She nodded a reply and took a deep breath.
"Good, because I need ye tae make a run for it with me 'afore any of the other monks come along." He gazed into her eyes as he spoke. "The room is just down there; we are already halfway," he pointed down the hall to the other end, where a large statue of a monk was praying with beads in his hands.
Charlotte took a deep breath and allowed him to grab her hand.
"On the count of three," he said encouragingly.
"All right," she confirmed and gave his hand a small squeeze.
"One… two… three!" he whispered loudly, bolting down the passage with Charlotte in tow.
They ran as fast as they could until they finally reached a small wooden door to the left.
Owen reached for the handle and yanked her inside before shutting the door and leaning against the wood with one hand. He quickly slid the bolt into place and breathed a sigh of relief. Sweat had beaded on both heads as they struggled to catch their breath.
Exchanging glances, they suddenly burst into fits of laughter as the stress of the situation left their bodies.
"I dinnae ever want tae dae that again," Owen said breathlessly.
"I think I may be inclined to agree with you,’' Charlotte answered when she finally stopped laughing.
Her heart beat slightly faster as she looked at him and the sparkle in his eyes when he laughed.
Her heart suddenly skipped a beat when she remembered the warmth of his body against hers as he held her tight in the alcove.
Who are you really, Owen, the monk… Charlotte wondered as she watched him laugh.