Runaway Wolfes of Manhattan Three - Helen Hardt Page 0,12
Doing things inside my body. Things no father should do to a child. Things no man should do to a woman without explicit permission.
Those things…
Those abhorrent and horrific things.
His death shouldn’t have made it worse. Indeed, I had rejoiced when I heard. Of course, that was before I’d been implicated.
I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill the bastard, but if I was going to get blamed for it anyway?
I wished I’d been the one to pull the fucking trigger.
I wished it with everything inside me.
Why? Why could I still feel him inside me?
Why did—
I jerked at the sound of a knock on the door.
It was after midnight. Who would be knocking at my door after midnight? This was a small town, but small towns could have derelicts too.
I hadn’t turned out the light, though. I always slept with a light on. I had since I was six years old.
Who knew I was here? No one but Matt.
It was Matt. It had to be.
I raced to the door clad in a tank top and pajama pants. Equally excited and frightened about opening the door.
I opened it anyway. Funny, I never opened the door not knowing who was on the other side in Manhattan or anywhere else. But I knew it was Matt, and I was right.
He stood under the porch light, looking just as delectable as he had when he bid me goodnight two hours earlier.
“Hey,” he said.
“What are you doing here?”
“I saw the light in the bedroom on. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I swallowed. “I’m fine.”
Except that I wasn’t.
“Good. I’m glad.” He smiled. “I’ll be on my way, then.”
Let him go. Just let him go. Don’t drag him into your black world.
“Wait.”
He lifted his eyebrows.
“Don’t go. Come in. Please.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m asking you to come in, Matt. I’m not asking you to take me to bed.”
“In that case, I’ll be going.” He smiled again.
“Seriously? You’re really a big piece of—”
“Calm down. I’m kidding. My God, you big-city girls don’t know how to take a joke.”
“I can take a joke just fine. But jokes are usually funny.”
He clasped his hands to his heart. “I’m not funny?”
“Just get your butt in here.” I held the door open.
He entered, and I closed the door and clicked the deadbolt lock.
“I don’t have anything to offer you accept water.”
“Not true. There should be flavored seltzer in the fridge.”
“Oh? Honestly, I haven’t looked.”
He walked to the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and helped himself to a can. “You want one?”
“No thanks. I’m actually drinking water out of the tap. I never do that at home, but this is delicious. It’s so fresh and cold.”
“Sourced straight from the Rockies. Doesn’t get much fresher than that.”
“Then why do you drink that crap out of the can?”
“Because I like the crap out of the can. I like my water sparkling. Always have.”
I shook my head. “You’re something. That’s for sure.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He took a drink of the seltzer.
Now what? Part of me wanted to throw caution to the wind and kiss him again, see what happened.
But I had so many demons. Was it fair to him to drag him into it? If only I could escape the demons, just for this week while I was here at his cabin.
If only…
How well I knew those two words. If only…
But my life was what it was. No “if only” could change it now.
“I don’t have anything to offer you to eat. Unless you laid in supplies I don’t know about.”
“You have some snacks and some produce in the fridge, but I’m not hungry, thanks.” He took another drink.
“Tell me,” I said. “What should I do tomorrow? Tell me what to do in a small town.”
“Honey, there’s not a lot to do in a small town. Which is, I have a feeling, why you came here in the first place.”
He wasn’t wrong. “You’re right, but sitting around alone in a cabin all by myself with my thoughts doesn’t sound too great right now.”
“Sounds pretty good to me,” he said.
“Yeah, well, you don’t have my thoughts.”
“True. I only have my own.” He set the seltzer down on the counter and looked me straight in my eyes. “Penny for yours.”
If he only knew. “You’ll need to pay way more than a penny for mine.”
“Oh?”
“I only mean that… It’s a mess in there. In my head, I mean.”
“I doubt that.”
“You’d be wrong.” I picked up his can of seltzer and took a drink, wincing. “Ugh. How can you drink