Burning Ember

Chapter 8

Hale stepped onto the porch, and from the kitchen window, I watched him pull out his phone and start scrolling. Curiosity begged me, and I rose from the table, sneaking across the house to eavesdrop. Pressing close to the window, hidden by the curtain, I caught his words, "Hey, we got a problem," spoken into the phone. My ear nearly touched the glass, straining to catch every word.

"No, not with that, it's Gabriel Harding. He's here." I could hear Hale's pacing steps creaking back and forth on the porch as whoever he was talking to responded. "I don't know, but he is, and I need a false trail out like fucking yesterday." A few more seconds passed before he said, "Okay, that's fine. Whatever you have to do, just get it done."

He ended the call, and I hurried back to the kitchen, hoping his footsteps would cover mine. It appeared he wasn't bluffing about his connections, yet it left me curious. There was so much about him I had yet to learn, and despite his intentions appearing sincere, the subtle hint of violence in his assurances was hard to ignore. But Hale seemed like a guardian, not a tormentor like Gabriel, and his presence brought me a newfound security, however the idea of violence still left me uneasy.

Hale walked back into the kitchen, smiling at me as he said, "Should we order some pizza?"

I nodded as I refilled my glass and poured one for him. "Pizza sounds good."

The evening progressed, and Hale kindled a vibrant fire in the parlor. We sat for some time chatting before deciding to retire for the night. Emotionally drained from the day's events, I was more than ready for sleep. After guiding Hale to his room, we said goodnight and parted in the hallway. The way his gaze followed me until I entered my room didn't escape my notice. I closed the door and leaned against it.

Was it so unreasonable to feel this drawn to him? The kiss he laid on me earlier was unexpected, and the intensity of my reaction was equally surprising. I couldn't remember the last time I had been kissed with such passion and desire. My body heated thinking about it. I shook my head, and walked toward the side of my bed, pulling one of my oversized sleep shirts from the drawer. After crawling under the covers, I stared at the ceiling for what felt like forever before I finally fell asleep.

A nightmare, or a twisted memory sought me out. Gabriel and I in the midst of an argument as I locked myself in the bedroom, crying as he pounded at the other side of the door. My body shook with each forceful slam of his fist. Looking to the window, I thought about running. Jumping from the second floor would be less painful than what he was preparing to inflict upon me. Rushing across the room, I gripped the edge of the window and pulled, however, it was locked.

I fumbled with the latch in my urgency, barely getting the window a few inches open as Gabriel kicked the door off its hinges. Screaming as he pulled me from the window, he pushed me face down onto the bed. I was yelling no, please stop, but he didn't listen. Ripping my pants from my body, he forced himself upon me. Gabriel always said he didn't need my consent because I was his wife—his property was what he meant. "This is what happens when you resist me," he breathed into my ear as he craned my head back by a handful of my hair.

I was shaken awake suddenly, and I jolted from the bed in panic feeling sweat running down my face and chest. Hale was standing near the side of the bed, eyes dilated with concern. His lack of a shirt revealed the expanse of the tattoos that covered his muscled body, and his pants looked as if he had thrown them on in a hurry and hadn't bothered to button them. "I'm sorry, you were screaming . . . I didn't mean to barge in, I just thought . . ." he said as he stepped back, rubbing his hands over his eyes. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I put my hands over my face. I was embarrassed, ashamed, and so damn tired of reliving the darkest moments of my life.