An Impossible Task

Chapter 4

The dog followed John into the living room and sat down at his feet while John sat on the couch. Cassie came and handed him a cup of coffee and he took it gratefully.

"I need to check your wounds," Cassie said softly. "You've been moving around a lot and I want to make sure you didn't tear anything."

John nodded and put his coffee cup on an end table. He removed the white lab coat and lifted the top of the scrubs up to his shoulder, baring his chest to her. Cassie swallowed hard and leaned over him, first checking his side and then the stab wound up by his collarbone with a gentle touch. His chest was broad and muscular under her hands and even after what he had been through, he smelled soapy and clean. Watching her under warm milk chocolate eyes, Cassie met his gaze and smiled.

"Now I need to check your leg wound," she told him, trying to sound as professional as she could.

John continued to stare at her as he stood and lowered the scrubs pants to his knees.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Cassie said to herself, his powerful, athletic thigh under her hand. She was hoping he didn't sense her nervousness.

"Looks good," she told him as he pulled the pants back up and sat down. "Everything looks really good. Are you in any pain?"

"It's okay," he answered.

"Why don't you lay down for an hour or so? When you wake I'm sure you will be more clear-headed."

John leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. Cassie took the blanket from the other end of the sofa and covered him. He didn't even stir.

John was glad he could close his eyes to block her from his sight. The thoughts in his mind had to stop. Thinking back to the note Helen left him when she died, it said he needed to find "something...or someone...to love" and until now, he hadn't thought she meant a real "someone". Being faithful to her even after she had died was who he was. He had a perfect love and she died. He thought he didn't need anything more than to hold onto the memory of her, but it didn't feed the need that all living human beings had. To be loved, to be touched, to be connected to a real, live person. And even considering what and who he was, underneath he was just a man. He was just a man.

Cassie watched him from the chair that she curled herself into with her cup of coffee. It was right by the bay window at the front of her house and looked out onto the green grass of her yard. It was dark now, and she only saw her front porch light reflected off the dew on the grass.

"Now what?" Cassie said to herself. "Now what?"

Sure, he said he wasn't a serial killer or spy, but what was he? And why the hell did he have a body like a professional athlete? And where, in God's good name, did he get that hair?? It was like goddamn dark chocolate melting down a piece of satin.

She was glad his eyes were closed and he appeared to be asleep so she could get a good look at him. For all the lacerations on his face and bruises on his cheeks and chin, he was beautiful, but sadness escaped from every pore he had. Cassie thought that he belonged nowhere, with his no name dog. He was off his moorings and settled himself on the strength of his will alone.

How she knew this, she didn't know. It was her little voice and she had to stop herself. She knew where this led. It was Cassie sending out the lifeline, saving the victim and then drowning herself.

"Oh, no, not this time," she said to herself. "Oh, no, girlfriend."

It didn't matter how great he looked or how good his body was or how sad and disenchanted he appeared to be. The tipping factor not in her favor was the hair. She wished he had a head injury so she could inconspicuously run her hands through it, but that wasn't the case. But no. She wasn't going to sacrifice herself again. Really, how many times do you hurt yourself before you put on some armor?

"John whatever-your-last-name-is, you're on your own," she said to herself again. "I don't care how needy and handsome you are."

It was her little voice that kept bothering her, during that every day battle between her heart and her intellect. The little voice was her heart and self protection mode was her intellect. After the long chat with her intellect, her heart decided it needed its say.

You could help him. He seems lonely and a little more than lost. You could help him believe in the goodness of people again and maybe he'd name that poor dog.

"He's a good person," the voice said. "He's just lost his way and ended up on your doorstep for a reason."

"Oh, shut up," Cassie said out loud.

John awoke with a sore neck and rubbed it while rotating his head. Glancing over at Cassie, he could see her studying him carefully. They watched each other for a long time, John's eyes running appreciatively down her body, a sense of urgency and desire building up in both of them. John seemed frozen in his seat as Cassie stood up and walked towards him. It was a slow, languid walk, as she took off her white lab coat and let it slip to the floor. Her hand slid through her hair and her curls released themselves into waves of shiny, auburn tides. She slipped her shoes off and left them where they were, her bare feet colored with shimmering red nails.

It seemed like an eternity for Cassie to walk to him and he sat up on the edge of the sofa. Cassie's hand touched the side of his face and he leaned forward into her, her hand clasping him to her chest. He let out a long breath and felt his body relax. She stroked his coarse black beard and ran her hand around his chin. He could smell her sweet, light scent and he closed his eyes in order to breathe her in. While her one hand was wrapped around his chin, her other hand combed lazily through his hair in long, sweet sweeps. He felt her lean down and place her cheek on top of his head.

John sat back and pulled Cassie into his lap. Straddling him, she leaned into him and......

"John?" Cassie said, gently touching his arm to wake him. "John?"

He sat up with a start and began blinking his eyes. "Oh, fuck," he said to himself. "Grand mal fuck."

"Are you okay?"

John nodded, finally coming to his senses. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just didn't know where I was for a minute."

"Well, it's morning and I've made breakfast. I don't know when you ate last, so it might be a good idea to get something in your stomach."

He nodded. "Thanks."

While eating, John asked Cassie about the best way to get into the city. "Commuter train? Bus?"

"I'll take you," Cassie offered. "Where do you need to go? Do you live there?"

"No," he answered, evenly. "My house....there was a gas leak. It exploded and destroyed everything. I need to get to the Continental Hotel."