Chapter 6
Frankie
I’ll never admitto Jude how quickly I scarf down this sandwich. Or the fact that I intend to eat all three bags of chips he brought up for me. The tangy mayo combined with the bread tastes like gourmet cuisine after not eating for more than a day.
I lick my lips. The cap on the water bottle spins beneath my eager fingers. Before I know it, I’ve drunk half the contents, and the pang in my stomach silences.
As I stand and remove the sling to change, my reality threatens to knock me back down. Or maybe that’s the concussion. Nobody is on their way to rescue me. Of that I can be sure. I walked around those woods for hours, and Dillon never appeared. He didn’t turn the car around to look.
And until I can remember what happened in that car, I can’t be certain that’s a bad thing.
My ID remains tucked in my bags back in his car along with a meager amount of cash from my job at the grocery store I’ve worked at since the day I turned fourteen.
What I could really use right now besides my own clothes and a toothbrush is a phone and that fifty bucks to pay my way home.
I’ll have to settle for a shower and a nap instead.
A surge of frustration bubbles up as I reach for the tarnished zipper at the back of the dress. Having my right arm in a splint isn’t much of a problem since I’m left handed, but I can’t seem to grip the evasive little bitch with my fingertips.
I grunt and spin. The room swims in my vision as my concussion riots against all of the sudden, twisty movement.
“Goddammit,” I huff out of breath.
“Need a hand?”
I startle and stumble back into the bed, palm clutched to my heaving chest. The ridiculous overreaction to the sound of Jude’s deep voice deserves a scolding. “Jesus!”
“It’s actually Jude.”
I narrow my eyes into annoyed slits as his lips twitch.
“Can’t reach?”
“I think it’s stuck.”
“Turn around,” he orders. Slow, measured steps bring him closer.
I turn my back to him and drag my messy hair over my left shoulder.
“Did you need something?” The words tumble out as a testament to my nerves flaring at his nearness.
“Sorry?”
“You’re just back so soon.”
“Well, I was on my way to my room, but I thought I should see what all the grunting was about.”
My heart beats in time to the seconds passing before the first whisper of his fingertips touches me. The way he grips the back of my dress, one finger lays against my bare skin. The contact there is a solid point of warmth contrasting my usual chilly temperature.
His careful tugging sends a jolt through me. A blush hits my cheeks as a current sizzles down my spine to pool in my stomach. I close my eyes. My breathing deepens, and I fight to smother the ragged inhales.
If only reaching for my water wouldn’t raise suspicions to my current predicament. I could guzzle the remaining half bottle to ease my suddenly dry mouth. He adjusts his grip and more of him touches me. His knuckles bump the ridges of my spine. Jude pauses, as if he’s also noticing the prolonged skin-on-skin. So slowly I can’t be sure it isn’t intentional, his fingers slip further down my back.
Okay, I’m not sure even water would be enough to quench this sudden inferno ripping through me.
A sharp yank and the sound of my zipper splitting has my eyes flying open. Cool air hits my skin as the threads practically disintegrate, revealing my bare back from shoulders to just above the swell of my ass.
“Fixed it.”
“Did you just rip it open?”
“Yep.”
“Do you mind not tearing my clothes anymore? This dress is all I have.” I clutch the loosened fabric against my chest. I’m one misstep away from sprawling naked on the floor.
“Didn’t think you’d need to wear it again since your fuck of a fiancé left you on the side of a highway.”
My throat clogs, and I swallow hard. His description of Dillon settles somewhere deep. The way he acknowledges the mistake I nearly made doesn’t fill me with shame. Not the way it did when the concerns I raised to my parents were dismissed. They made me feel like marrying Dillon was the best option for me.
Despite knowing deep down it wasn’t.
But when you grow up as I did, one delinquent bill away from homelessness, selling possessions and scraping coins from between couch cushions, you stop questioning that sinking feeling and start living with it. It becomes a part of you. You stop believing there could be anything better.
I might be in a strange man’s house with a concussion and a broken arm, but at least I’m not married to Dillon. Jumping out of that car was the best thing I could have ever done, even if it was reckless.
Dark fabric obscures my vision, snapping me back to the present as it’s pulled over my face and traps my hair against my neck.
“Arms.” Jude holds the length of a tee shirt out past my shoulders.
“Whose shirt is this?”
“Yours now.” As my arms individually clear the holes, he drops the hem. The length of it settles around mid-thigh. “You can wear my clothes until I pick up something else.”
“Are you going to dress me every day too?” The testy remark finds its way out of my mouth. Unfamiliar emotions at being cared for force me from the familiarity of my comfort zone and into this chaotic unknown. I’m not used to depending on anyone other than myself. The way Jude’s stepped up to help effortlessly leaves me feeling disoriented.
The fabric smells like him, surrounding me and dulling the conflict in my veins. I fight against burying my nose in the collar to absorb his clean scent.
Courage fills my next breath as I slowly exhale and drop the dress to the ground. The ruined material pools at my ankles like some metaphor for my surrender.
“There are pants too.” Jude clears his throat and points at the bed.
I smirk and draw back the covers. “I’m a less-is-more kind of girl.” The sheets are cool and silky against my bare legs as I climb between them, careful not to flash Jude my ass. The only part of me still clad in my own clothes.
“Fair warning, you come downstairs like that, and one of my brothers sees you, I’m not going to like it,” Jude bites out.
“Why?” The bold question hovers between us.
Jude gazes at me with a harsh expression, holding my eyes with a pause before he answers. “Their wives would bury me alive.”
Questions swirl. The vague information teases my curiosity. How many brothers? Are they all married? What about sisters? Do any of them live here too?
Jude’s dog Ashe trots into the room like she owns the place and leaps onto the queen-sized bed. Her cold, wet nose bumps my palm.
“Hey, girl.” I stroke her thick fur.
“Ashe, out,” Jude orders.
“She’s not a bother. I don’t mind if she stays.”
“I do.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of a grump?”
He levels me with a glare and crosses his arms. “Most days actually.”
“Oh good. I thought maybe you were unaware.”
“You aren’t a ray of sunshine yourself.”
I scoff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My personality fills the room.”
“Sure. It’s as pleasant as a dog’s fart.” His gaze drops to his trusty canine. “Come on, Ashe.” A sharp whistle follows his command.
She looks up at him with a stubbornness I feel in my bones. Apparently, I’m not the only one that likes poking the big bear.
My teeth pinch my lip as I fight against a smile. “I guess she likes me more.”
“Ashe,” he orders again.
The dog lifts her head and barks once as if to tell him where he can shove his command. She drops her heavy head on my thigh.
Jude releases a frustrated sigh and brushes his hand over his beard. Seems to me like the man doesn’t like to share his loyal companion.
“She’s fine. I promise I won’t convince her to come home with me in your absence.”
“That’s not a concern, darlin’. Seems to me you can hardly care for yourself, let alone a dog.”
The air leaves my lungs. Traces of humor vanish from my expression. “Thank you for helping me out of the dress. Now you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
My choice of words dares him to say the same. To kick me out and prove he’s no different from anybody else.
Tell me, Jude. Tell me I’m no longer welcome.
It’s not as if I haven’t done everything in my power to push him away.
He runs a hand through his dark hair, and his eyes look a little wild. As if he can’t believe the words that slipped out of his mouth, but he’s too stubborn to take them back. Holding his shoulders rigid and tense, he looks at his dog one more time before exiting the room.