Chapter 23
Caitlyn
I've spent so much time recently with Eli at the cabin, it feels almost unnatural to have a full day off to myself.
This is something I'd normally ache for by the end of my work week, but today, I'm just... bored.
Kiva repositions herself when I run my hand down her back, rolling over so I can rub her belly.
I oblige, smiling down at my sweet girl.
"No shame in asking for exactly what you want, huh? Wish I was the same way."
Her tail thumps on the sofa, her eyes barely open as she gets the attention she craves.
Oh, what it would be like to be a spoiled dog. No cares other than worrying how long your owner is going to be gone during the day and if you could make them feel bad in order to get extra snacks.
"I'm going to eventually have to get up and switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer," I mutter, but her tail continues to thump with her contentness .
I can't stop thinking about yesterday, and I regret the instant I drove away from the cabin without speaking with Roman.
I don't know how the man suddenly showing up in my life has given him permission to take over nearly every waking thought. I hate that I can't get him out of my head, that my body craves him in a way that it has never craved anyone else. I know better than to blame him. I'm the one who is responsible for my own feelings. I'm advanced enough in my own therapy to understand that, but it doesn't stop me from wishing that he was either here with me or wishing that I never met him in the first place. I can't decide which direction I want to go.
I jolt when I hear a noise outside of the house. I keep one hand on Kiva, and the other reaches for the remote to the TV, silencing the soft music I've been playing out of it today while I worked on cleaning the house.
The only sound I can distinguish is my own breathing, and even that light, rattled intake of breath makes me nervous. I feel like a sitting duck when the noise sounds again from the backyard.
Kiva, as old as she is, doesn't seem alarmed. It's either that or she can't hear it at all. I give her belly one last scratch and get up quietly. The last thing I need is her barking and making it impossible to hear anything else going on.
I know the windows and doors are locked. I checked them again this morning when I got up, and that was after checking them before lying down and suffering through a fitful night of sleep. It seems I can add a little OCD door-and-window checking to my daily routine thanks to Roman and finding several windows unlocked the other night .
With more bravery than I feel, I sneak to the back door, wondering if whoever is out there can see the shadow my form is casting over the curtained window. In the same movement, I flip the back porch light on and sweep the window curtain to the side, shrieking when I see the shadow of someone darting through the yard and disappearing into the line of trees edging the property.
The human form makes it impossible to convince my head that it's a bear or some other creature out looking for something to eat.
My hands shake when I pull up my phone, and my fingers instantly search for the contact information Nolan gave me yesterday.
Me: It's Caitlyn. I need you.
This is the exact reason Eli's dad gave me the phone number. Although I put the information into my contacts, I never imagined I'd have to use it, much less need it less than a day after the information was provided.
Those three little dots pop up, and then they disappear.
This happens several times as I crouch down and press my back to the wall, unsure if the person lurking around my backyard has been completely scared off by the light coming on or if they're simply waiting in the shadows and making a different plan from whatever their original one was.
Roman: I'm sending someone.
He's sending someone? He can't be bothered to come help me himself?
Disappointment hits me in the chest, a sharp, quick punch that I don't have time to prepare for.
I scream, terror running through my veins, when a knock sounds on my front door.
"Caitlyn?"
I don't recognize the voice.
Me: Someone is at my front door. I'm so scared.
The confession seems like too much, as if it reveals more than it should to a man who can't be bothered to help me when he vowed that he'd keep me safe. Relying on others has never been a strong suit of mine. I've always known that I had to depend on myself and no one else unless I wanted to be disappointed.
Roman: It's Lark, baby. Let him in.
How is it even possible for the man to show up a minute after I text Roman?
Did he have the guy waiting outside in case something bad happened?
Why would he send someone else instead of being out there or even inside with me?
"I'm going to check around your house," the guy on the front porch says. After being told who he is, I realize I sort of recognize the voice.
I haven't spent much time speaking with anyone at the cabin other than Aspen and Nolan, but I've been in the same vicinity as the others more than once.
I swallow, listening to the footsteps leave my porch, but then there's nothing but silence.
The click of toenails on the kitchen floor draws my eyes to Kiva, who doesn't seem to have a clue what's going on. She stretches out her body, yawning as she walks toward me. I see the confused look in her eyes with me being on the kitchen floor, but she doesn't seem too bothered by it as she uses the opportunity to crawl into my lap. I hold her close, trying to calm my labored breaths by pressing my face into her fur.
A knock on the back door makes me scream a second time, and I realize just how bad I am in stressful situations.
"It's Lark, Dr. Rudd. Can you open the door?"
Kiva, closer this time to the noise, lets out a quick bark, but then she settles back into my arms, unimpressed with what is going on .
"Some guard dog you are," I mutter as I begin to stand and lower her to the floor.
She looks at me, disgust in her eyes at not being given a chance to snuggle, but I realize she's still tired from her interaction with Eli as she saunters back into the living room to find a comfortable place to go back to sleep.
I turn my body sideways as I move to peer out the window because it's something I remember seeing on a crime drama, something about making your person smaller and a harder target if someone wants to shoot or stab you.
The porch light shines on Lark's face, his eyes locked on the tiny area where I'm holding the curtain back.
He gives me a quick dip of his head, his breath coming out in cloudy puffs due to the frigid air outside. Spring hasn't had the ability to take much of a hold on the weather, and the nights in the mountains have been as cold as ever.
"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice easily carrying through the thin glass of the door's window.
Instead of holding a conversation with him freezing on the back porch, I flip the deadbolt and turn the lock on the doorknob, opening the door and taking a step back so he has enough room to enter the home without needing to touch me.
"Are you okay?" he repeats, stepping further into the house to close the door.
I wrap my arms around my middle, both in a bid to keep myself safe and to shelter myself from the cold air he let in.
"Jersey is out of town, or he'd be here himself."
I blink up at the man, wondering if he's just saying that to make me feel better or if it's true.
Either way, it doesn't matter. I didn't get Roman's number from the man himself. Anyone being here at all is about Nolan and Eli and the boy's therapy. I'm not being protected by this group of men for any other reason, and it would be smart to keep that in mind .
"There was someone in my backyard," I say, not breathing any more life into his statement than needs to be there.
"I saw tracks in the snow," he says, surprising me because I hadn't even realized we had gotten snow. "I was going to follow them all the way out, but I needed to make sure you were safe first."
"I'm fine," I say with as straight of a back as I can manage.
He doesn't look any more convinced than I feel.
"You look like you've seen a ghost."
I glare at the man. It's common courtesy not to say such things to a woman. It's akin to telling someone they look tired. Might as well say I look like shit and move on.
"Where's Rom-I mean Jersey?"
Lark gives me a slow smile as if I've revealed something of substance with my question.
"Nolan… umm Jericho gave me his number in case of an emergency."
"Jersey is working. He's out of state," he answers but doesn't offer anything further. The tone suggests he wouldn't tell me anymore either. "I just want you to know you're safe."
I take a step back when he takes a step forward, and like I've seen most of my life, his lips form a frown.
It's a form of rejection, and I've found that men take a hard strike to their ego when they realize they've been shunned. I start to tremble when I realize I don't know this man at all. Despite his claim that he's here to make sure I'm safe, I don't know how much faith I can actually put into it.
He takes two steps back, giving me as much room as the small kitchen allows, but it only calms that scream inside my head a little.