Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Luna
“You hoo… You up yet?”
Maren’s voice comes from the hallway, and I almost drop my towel.
It’s not even seven, for crying out loud.
I cinch my robe around my waist as steam from my shower still clings to the bathroom mirror behind me.
Three sharp raps echo against my bedroom door, and I step out of the bathroom just as it swings open.
“I hope you’re decent, babe. But honestly, if you’re not, that’s fine by me, too.” Maren’s grin is audible in her voice as she strolls in uninvited. “Half the freshman class at CSU got an eyeful during rush week, anyway. What’s one more peek between besties?”
“Are you ever going to let me live that down?”
“Not until the day I die. Maybe not even then.” She drops onto my bed with theatrical flair, making Willow hiss in displeasure. “I might even have it put on my headstone: ‘Here lies Maren Rodriguez, best friend of Luna Foster, infamous streaker of rush week.’”
“Why are you here so early?”
“JT called wanting some morning video sex. I couldn’t go back to sleep. So, I grabbed you a Starbucks on my way up. It’s on the kitchen counter, but you’ll probably need to nuke it.”
The drive from Estes Park to Aspen Ridge takes thirty minutes on a good day, longer when the mountain roads decide to be temperamental. In the winter, the road often closes because of snow, isolating Aspen Ridge and its five hundred and twelve residents from the rest of civilization.
“You didn’t have to do that.”
I pull open my dresser drawer and grab a bra and underwear.
“Course I did. You helped me fend off Estella last night. I owe you one. Maybe ten.”
Maren’s been my best friend and the sister I never had since we met at CSU Fort Collins.
I attended because they have one of the top three veterinary doctorate programs in the country.
We were both fish, wildlife, and conservation biology majors, our love for animals apparent even back then.
I went on to veterinary school, and she earned her accreditation and became certified as a vet tech, but she’s almost as knowledgeable and skilled as I am.
She’s the only vet tech within a hundred miles willing to make the drive up here. I’ve given her one of the bedrooms, and she often spends weeks living here during the winter.
“Yeah, you do owe me. She was pretty rough on me last night.” I grab a pair of scrubs from the closet.
“You and me both.” Maren shimmies across the bed, closer to Willow and Sage. “Morning, my lovelies.”
Sage melts under her attention, purring as Maren scratches under her chin. Willow, however, fixes her with a death glare. She’s my cranky cat and doesn’t appreciate having her beauty sleep interrupted, even by her second favorite human.
“Are we releasing Buttercup today?” Maren ignores Willow’s obvious annoyance as she continues petting and snuggling her against her will.
“Yeah.” My voice cracks on the word. “It’s time to set her free.”
Three months ago, Buttercup was hit by an SUV, badly fracturing her right hind leg.
The driver had stopped and called animal services.
She followed Roger when he brought her to us, crying the entire time about how sorry she was.
It took weeks of careful treatment and months of rehabilitation to get the doe back to full health.
“That’s great news.” Maren's voice goes soft with understanding, and she meets my eyes over Willow's twitching ears. “She’s been asking for it. I saw her pacing in her enclosure yesterday like she was planning a jailbreak.”
“Wild animals always know when they’re ready. She’s been watching the tree line for days now, wanting to get back to her territory.”
Deer need their freedom, their natural habitat, and their herds. Keeping her longer than necessary would be cruel, even if saying goodbye will break my heart.
Willow swats Maren’s hand away and jumps off the bed. “I’ll keep the wolves in their enclosure, then. So they can’t track her scent and follow her.”
“Thanks.”
I head toward the bathroom to change, leaving the door cracked. Privacy between Maren and me went out the window years ago. As I pull my hair into a ponytail and brush my teeth, my mind drifts back to last night.
What does it say about me that my fear of someone watching me from the woods drove me to leave my curtains open and get myself off at the thought of it?
Not that I ever need to close my curtains.
I live on an isolated property in the Colorado mountains, with my nearest neighbor a half-mile away.
No one can see the sanctuary or any of its buildings from the road, so I could leave the curtains open and prance around naked in front of them, and no one would know.
Not that I’d do that. But I could.
But for the past two nights, I know I felt someone watching me, eyes piercing the darkness beyond my window. Last night, my fear curdled into desire, a perverse longing that sparked heat between my thighs. A hunger that left me aching.
I need therapy. Seriously. There’s something wrong with me.
“Hey, Juni bug.” Maren’s voice carries from the bedroom. “Are you sunning yourself in the window, pretty girl? Wait a hot minute. What in the actual fuck is this?”
I spit out my toothpaste, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “What’s what?”
I walk out of the bathroom to see Maren leaning close to the window, the curtains wide open, her forehead crinkling.
“There’s some kind of… something on your window.” Maren peers closer, then turns to me with wide eyes. “On the outside of the glass. It’s all streaky and white, and frankly, Luna, it looks suspiciously like come.”
I grab a pair of socks and my Sketchers from the closet. “You’re insane.”
“I’m not kidding! Come see for yourself.” She beckons me over. “This looks like premium grade A jizz if I’ve ever seen it. And honey, I’ve seen plenty.”
“It’s probably bird shit.” I sit on the chair beside Shadow’s empty bed. He must have bolted when Maren made her grand entrance. “Or tree sap. We’re surrounded by forest.”
“Lu, I know what bird shit looks like. And this is not avian in origin. I also know what jizz looks like.” There’s a hint of amusement in her voice now.
“How did you get male ejaculate on your second-story bedroom window? Did your stalker bring a ladder and climb onto the balcony? Is he out there every night cranking one out while watching you sleep like some perverted Peeping Tom?”
“I worry about where your mind goes sometimes.”
I walk to the window, and there it is. Unmistakable white, filmy streaks coating the glass in a haphazard pattern. Long, thick trails that catch the morning light.
“I told you it looks like come,” she says with a laugh before scooping up a protesting Juniper. “Come on, pussies, time for breakfast.” She heads toward the door. “Oh, and Lu, that’s one thing I’m not helping you clean up.”
After she leaves, I stand frozen, staring at the streaks on the glass. Could someone have been out there?
No. That’s crazy.
The rational part of my brain screams that it’s impossible. But as I trace one of the white streaks with my fingertip, I can’t shake the memory of how aroused I got. How hard I came from just imagining an elusive, watching presence taking me in the dark.
What if he came to my window, watched me, and ejaculated on it?
What kind of sicko would do that?
“Ricky, come on, buddy. You have to leave my boobs alone.”
I pull the raccoon’s hands away from my chest for what feels like the hundredth time.
Checking his back paw should have taken five minutes, but here we are, locked in this ridiculous battle of wills where he’s determined to cop a feel and I’m equally determined to maintain some semblance of professional dignity.
He chitters at me, his dark eyes gleaming with what I swear is mischief.
He’s been pawing at my breasts since the moment I took him out of his cage, and I’m starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose to mess with me.
His fingers are dexterous and persistent, and every time I move his hands away, he goes right back to his favorite target.
Behind me, Maren snorts as she enters the main exam room. I don’t have to turn around to know she’s wearing that shit-eating grin of hers.
“Don’t you hate it when you have to fend off a raccoon’s advances in the morning?” Her voice drips with amusement. “Though I gotta say, Luna, at least you’re getting a little action.”
Ricky chooses that moment to make another grab for my left breast, and I have to twist away from him while still trying to examine his injured foot.
“Ricky!”
I catch his hand just in time. This raccoon has become my most challenging resident, and not because of his medical needs.
I’ve never encountered a raccoon with such a specific fascination with women’s breasts.
Having to handle all his care so he can’t assault any of the female volunteers is becoming a chore, but the liability alone of letting him loose on them would probably shut us down.
The only reason Maren tolerates his wandering paws is because I have enough dirt on her to ensure her cooperation.
Estella would have a heart attack if she knew what her precious little Maren was really like.
“Speaking of action…” Maren crosses to the sink to wash her hands. “Have you figured out yet what that weird shit was on your window this morning? Looks like someone had a really good time watching you sleep. Might be kind of hot if you’ve got yourself a sexy stalker. Better than the dating apps.”
My hands freeze on Ricky’s foot. I’ve been thinking about it all morning. It really did look like come, but how is that even possible?
Ricky takes advantage of my stillness to investigate the collar of my scrubs, his fingers working their way under the fabric. I bat his hands away without taking my eyes off his paw.