Vandal(55)

Nodding, I try to dredge up my voice. “Yes … that would be good I think.”

He gives my neck a gentle squeeze. “I guess I wanted to make sure you were going to stick around for a while before we really talked about everything, which is ass-backwards, right?”

Letting out a little laugh, I agree. “Yes, but I understand. This whole situation has been a little unconventional.”

“Do you regret coming here?” A shadow of worry shrouds his face, and it’s becoming increasingly obvious that whatever this is between us is important to him. But why? Surely he has no shortage of women, with his looks and sexual talents. What the hell is he after?

I don’t answer right away because I want him to sweat it out a little. “No, not yet,” I finally say.

“Well here’s a warning, baby. My goal is to make sure you never regret it. So if you’re gonna run, you better run now.” He pulls me to him, forcing me to stand on my tiptoes to kiss him, then he lets me go and walks away.

“Don’t forget dinner and don’t go through my things,” he reminds me. “And feed the furry, sightless one.”

I’m still standing in the hallway when his motorcycle starts and then roars off out of the driveway, the sound fading as he drives further down the mountain road.

My first impulse is to go to sleep until he comes back, and then a little light bulb goes off in my brain. That’s what I’ve been doing for months: sleeping my life away. Waiting for Nick to come back when he never will. Waiting for my own life to just end. Wishing hateful thoughts on the person who caused the accident. But first I wander around the house. I’ve been in such a fog that I haven’t noticed how gorgeous and unique this place is. It’s small, but modern, with an open-concept layout, vaulted ceilings with exposed raw wooden beams like I saw in the bedroom, skylights, and floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, dining room and master bedroom. Everything is clean and in its place, hinting at his control-freak nature. Native American decor fills almost every room with wolf statues, Indian pottery, dream catchers, wall paintings, and the focal point of the living room—a huge colorful headdress mounted above the fireplace. I’m sure it’s authentic, and I wonder where he got it and if it’s a family heirloom. A huge tapestry hangs from the wall in the foyer with an image of an Indian family on it, real feathers hanging from the corners of the frame. The wraparound couch and accent chair are deep chocolate brown suede with cream throw pillows. A white, thick faux-fur blanket is folded along the back of the couch. I wish I had noticed that when I was napping the other day because it looks extremely cozy.

Hanging on the wall above his bed is a huge charcoal sketch of a wolf in the snow that is absolutely breathtaking. A sense of peace and comfort envelopes me in this house, and I wish I could stay here forever and never go back to my real life.

I slide open the cabinet in the credenza by the front door, curious to see what may be in there. Inside is an envelope of photos of him holding a baby. As I flip through the photos the baby is getting older, growing into a little girl. She had his eyes, and was incredibly adorable, always smiling. I can tell she’s the kind of little girl that makes you want to have a child. I carefully put the pictures back where they were.

“Come on, Sterling,” I say, heading for the kitchen with him at my feet. “Let’s see what kind of dinner I can make.”

Vandal

The road is long and void of many cars, with sprawling views over the various lakes that scatter the mountain. This has always been my favorite road to ride. The turns are perfect, like the curves of a woman, and spaced out just right. The air is clean and crisp and feels good in my lungs. When Gram suggested I buy a “mental vacation house”, I knew this was where I wanted that house to be. As luck would have it, the house I now own had just gone on the market when I started house hunting. Built ten years ago and barely lived in, it had everything I wanted.

Hanging out and playing my acoustic this morning with Tabi fucked me up. Bad. The way she half-closed her eyes and swayed to my music, becoming one with the song and feeling it course through her veins as I do spoke volumes to me. She would be an amazing muse. Hell, she is an amazing muse. That melody I played this morning was everything she’s made me feel pouring out of me. Music has always been how I best express myself and she totally felt it. This chick might really get me.

Her willingness to give in scares the shit out of me because the more she lets me do, the more I will want to do, and I want to do a lot. She brats out and resists a little, but I can see in her eyes and feel in her body that she wants everything I’m unleashing upon her. She melts beneath me like butter.

I ride into one of the nearby towns and buy a charger for her cell phone, feeling like an asshole that I basically kidnapped her and took her without any regard to anything she might need. Like clothes, which worked in my favor, but it was still an epic douche maneuver for me to do. On my way to the register I see a display of little angel statues and one is holding a cat, so on a whim I buy it for her. I grab a box of cookies, too.

Pulling out my phone, I log into the portal of my indoor surveillance cameras and find Tabi in the kitchen, holding Sterling, staring into the open refrigerator. Her mouth is moving so I turn up the volume on my cell phone.

“Let’s just order some take-out and tell him we cooked it. Do you think he’ll know?” she’s saying.