Chapter 25 Kate
KATE
Maybe it’s the blood loss, but after years of dating a guy who couldn’t even hold down a regular job, competency is my new kink. Watching a man pilot a jet is one of those things that I never knew was attractive. Now that it’s happening, I’m in a daze.
“Buckle up,” he instructs..
I comply, connecting the latch of the seat belt.
Moments later, the wheels touch down seamlessly. Even in the storm, he lands us smoother than any commercial aircraft I’ve ever been on.
The medication he gave me only dulled the pain in my arm. I want to cry, but I’m trying to be tough.
A thought pops into my brain. “What were you doing at my apartment?”
His forearms are tense as he commands the controls, and my body hinges forward as we begin to pull to a stop. He doesn’t answer until we’re no longer in motion.
“Jackson texted me.”
He turns to face me, clicking his seat belt off. A blush creeps up my neck as I realize Jackson must’ve told Luke I was crying my eyes out in the backseat.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I turn away, resting my chin on my knees. What kind of coincidental timing was that? It’s almost as coincidental as me getting hired as his assistant the night after we slept together.
“I guess I’m glad you did.”
There’s some part of this story I’m not understanding. Something doesn’t add up. My brain is fuzzy, and my body feels weak with blood loss. I’m too exhausted, physically and emotionally, to dwell on this right now.
“Are you ready?” he asks me, standing beside my chair.
I slowly nod, beginning to stand.
“Can you walk?”
I almost say no so that he’ll lift me up in his muscled arms again. My feet find the floor, and I reach out to steady myself on him.
His hand grips my elbow, the other finding my waist. “Be careful. You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
I finally notice the state he’s in. His left eyebrow has a gash in it, and dried blood is stuck to the side of his face.
His eye is nearly swollen shut, a violet bruise decorating it.
His split lip, which hasn’t healed yet, is busted open again, puffy on the left side.
Blood has dripped from his nose. A small slice in the front of his neck looks like it was a hair’s width away from being lethal.
I stand still, mouth agape as I stare at him. He no doubt has multiple hidden wounds I can’t even see.
How is he even functioning?
“Uhh . . . are you okay?”
“I’ve got a headache.”
“You look like . . . you need a doctor.”
His eyes sweep over me, pausing at the bandage on my arm.
“You too.”
I stare at him, realizing there must be a very good reason we flew to a farm in North Carolina instead of going to a hospital. What kind of danger are we in?
We make our way through the cabin. He releases the stairs, revealing the tempestuous storm. The wind and rain begin to blow into the aircraft as we walk down to an old, beat-up pickup truck idling nearby.
A man jumps out of it, wearing a rain slicker. He jogs up to us. “Hey, boss man! You want me to taxi her into the hangar?”
“Yes. Thanks, Tommy,” Luke replies.
He leads me into the waiting vehicle. The musty scent of dirt and old-car greets us. I scoot into the center of the single-cab bench seat while Luke takes the driver’s seat.
“The house isn’t far from here.”
He pulls around to the large metal building painted green. It blends in well with the surrounding trees and grassy fields.
Tommy taxies the plane into the large opening of the structure, and several moments later, he runs back out to the truck. He opens the passenger door, climbing in. “Well, it sure has been a hot minute, Mr. Luke.”
He grins widely, crooked teeth with one missing on the side flashing at us. His eyes trail over me, causing me to shift in my seat, a bit closer to Luke.
“Yeah, Tommy, been busy. How’s the farm going?”
Tommy’s eyes have finally left me, and he looks out at the torrential downpour we’re driving through on a muddy road.
“Oh man, it’s going great. We got the south pasture to yield peaches this spring! They were delicious. We have a lot in the deep freezer, and Miss Bell has made gallons of ice cream.”
“Mmm, I can’t wait to try it out,” Luke says, looking over at him with a smile. “This is my friend, Kate. Kate, this is Tommy. He helps manage the farm with the Bells for me.”
Tommy’s smile is wide as he reaches out to shake my hand.
I extend the one that’s not my hurt arm.
His age is difficult to determine. His skin is deeply tanned and slightly wrinkled, but he looks to maybe be around thirty.
His hair is dark and messy, and his shirt is damp from the rain but also has a stain dripping down the front.
“I am a farmer through and through, and I sure do love it out here. Do you like rabbits?”
His gaze is intensely focused on my face as he leans close to me.
“Oh, um, sure, they’re cute.”
“We have a bunch of new rabbit babies, just born yesterday.”
“Wow,” is all I can think to say.
He continues to tell me all of their names and genders, even sharing details on the birth, which he apparently stayed awake for through part of the night.
Luke and I listen for the next ten minutes until he pulls the truck up to an enormous house.
It barely qualifies as a house. It reminds me of an old white plantation home, only much larger.
It’s three stories high with a white railing and porch on each level and two large red brick chimneys decorating the side.
I can’t make out any more details in the rain, but I immediately know what Luke meant about the peacefulness this place brings. The anxiety I’ve felt since the attack this morning is starting to abate.
He parks the old truck under a carport with a covered walkway leading to a side door.
“I’m going to go check on the baby rabbits now. Do you want to come, Kate?”
Luke looks up at Tommy. “Kate really isn’t feeling well tonight. Maybe we can go see them tomorrow.”
Tommy nods. “What’s wrong with her?” He looks down at me, tilting his head to the side.
“She’ll be okay. She just needs to have dinner and rest, okay?”
Luke opens the door, and I scoot out behind him.
“I’d like to see them in the morning, Tommy,” I say.
His smile returns as he opens his door and hops out, heading toward a barn in the distance.
“Should he be going out in this weather?”
Luke nods. “He’ll just check on them and come right back.” He gestures toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get some food in you.”
He leads me under the covered pathway, the rain still pouring down. Night is fully upon us now. He opens the door, and we step into a mudroom with brick flooring.
“The Bells and Tommy live here full-time.”
We go through a low doorway, and Luke nearly has to duck down. The house has the kind of classic architecture that looks like an old movie set.
We step into a large kitchen with two islands.
It’s a blend of old and new. The wooden beams look like they’ve been there for two hundred years along with the painted shiplap along the walls and ceilings.
The fresh white paint on the new cabinets and black stainless steel appliances are offset by an enormous slab of ebony quartz with white veins.
It’s breathtaking and inviting. A single lamp lights up the space, making it feel intimate.
A half-eaten pie is sitting on one of the islands, and Luke immediately approaches it, lifting off the cellophane.
“Okay, this will probably make you feel better than any medication. Linnet’s lemon pie is out of this world.”
He reaches into a drawer for two forks, handing one to me. I take a small bite. The crust is perfectly buttery, edges formed with vanilla wafers. The yellow filling is tart with just a hint of sweet, melting on my tongue.
I’ve died and gone to heaven on a chariot of fire.
“Oh my gosh,” I moan, embarrassingly loud. It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.
“You’d better not be eating my pie before your dinner, young man!”
I jump at the unexpected sound of a third party.
Luke grins, turning to face the speaker. She’s an older woman in her late seventies, greyhaired, and dressed in the same floor-length nightgown all the ladies at my dad’s care facility wear.
“If you don’t want people to indulge, you shouldn’t leave it out like this.”
She reaches us, nearly crushing him in a hug before she sees the state of his face. Her mouth forms an O, but before she can comment, he pulls her into the embrace. They finally break apart, and she shakes her head, tsking her tongue as she turns to me.
“Well, I never thought I’d see the day, Luke.” She steps toward me, eyes narrowing in on my arm. “Oh Mylanta! Are you injured as well, young lady?” She gently pulls my hand, leaning down to inspect the bandage. “Let’s get some food in your bellies before we address these . . . injuries.”
She bustles around the kitchen, pulling out Tupperware with food she scoops onto white plates and pops into the microwave.
“I hardly believed it when we got the call. I told Walter, I said, ‘If that boy comes to see us, I’ll wash all the baseboards,’ which, of course, was a lie, but I just never thought you’d find the time to come.”
Luke pulls out a barstool for me, grabbing his own and sitting. “The trip was . . . unexpected.”
The food smells incredible. I’m nearly starving to death, but I’m also so exhausted that I might pass out right here on the wood-planked floor. Luke reaches out a hand to rub the back of my neck.
“You gonna make it, Cabernet?” he leans in to whisper, fingers moving up to massage the base of my skull.
My eyes drift closed as I slowly nod. I could fall asleep, sitting up, if he kept doing that.
The food is immaculate—roast beef and green beans with mashed potatoes swimming in brown gravy. We both inhale it while Linnet jabbers about the crop of lemons and peaches. She seems to think butter is a main ingredient in everything, and I’m extremely grateful for it.
Luke finishes first. He disappears into the house, returning with a bottle of pills. “This will help you sleep, okay?”
I nod, obediently opening my mouth, and he places two on my tongue. His green eyes focus on mine.
Linnet leads us up to our rooms. I don’t register the direction we’re taking, but it feels like an eternity of stairs and hallways before we finally reach the destination. She bids us good night, and all I can think about is crawling into the bed to rest.
“Let me help you,” Luke says from behind me.
He walks in front of me toward the dresser, opening a drawer. I start to peel down my jogger pants. He’s seen it all, so no need for shame now. I’m too exhausted for embarrassment.
He returns with a faded blue T-shirt. I can’t lift my arm, and he seems to realize it. The sleeve of my hoodie has already been cut off, so he takes the hem in his fists and tears it right up the front.
“Just can’t get me naked fast enough, huh?”
His lips quirk up slightly. “If I wasn’t exhausted, sort of beat up, and suffering from a chronic migraine . . . then yes.”
He gently slides the sleeves off. Then, he pushes my head through the new shirt like I’m a child before awkwardly fitting my wounded arm through. I hiss as it twists slightly too far.
“Sorry . . . damn, Kate. I’m just . . . I’m sorry this happened to you. I hope you know that I can keep you safe. You’re safe here, okay?” He rubs a hand over my good arm, his jaw set in determination.
“I trust you,” I say simply.
He’s done everything he can to protect and care for me in the last few hours.
His blinks, his eyes a little shiny. He takes my hand, leading me to the bed. I crawl in, and he tucks me under the covers.
“I’m right across the hall if you need me, okay?”
I nod, closing my eyes. I drift off almost instantly as his footsteps retreat.