Exposed : My Mountain Man Protector(29)
“Yes, of course. I…have nowhere else to go. Thank you, Blake. For everything.”
He gave a jerky sort of nod and started walking back the way we’d come, toward the forest.
“We better get going. If we head out now, we may be able to make it to the cabin before dark.”
This third trip was again a completely different experience than the first two. My body was light. Everything felt light, the lightness only growing the farther up the mountain I got. And yet the disappearance of the worry about Angelo had revealed a different sort of tension: that with Blake.
As we continued up, he was once again lost in his own thoughts, his gaze fixed in the direction we were headed. This trip took forever. With no conversation and the same sights as the last two trips, there was nothing to distract me from my anxiousness.
What had caused this change in Blake, and what did it mean about us? Was there even an ‘us’ at all?
By the time I spotted the familiar wood of the cabin in the distance, we still hadn’t spoken a single word to each other and my worries had reached a fever pitch. Maybe Blake didn’t want me here at all. Maybe he thought the other night had been a mistake.
It was too dark to see the color of the trees; everything was just different shades of black. Once we got inside, Blake switched on the light.
“I’ll get dinner ready.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” I asked.
He shook his head.
I went to wait on the one chair at the table, my gaze scanning around the place. One chair at the table, a thin sliver of a bed, a bathroom you had to angle yourself sideways to get into—this cabin had been built and intended for one person. Blake and Blake alone. Maybe he had felt pressured into having me come back here. Maybe I was the only one who felt how I did.
I got out my phone and called my parents.
“Claire, Claire!” she gasped.
“Yes, it’s me, Mom. I’m all right. I’m in Aspen.”
“Aspen? What happened? We heard about Angelo. He even contacted us to try to find out where you went. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Sorry, Mother. Everything happened so fast. I witnessed Angelo murder someone and drove here to escape. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to put you in danger. I hid out in the hills with a man named Blake. A few days ago I came back into town to give the police my statement, but Angelo set off a car bomb in my Jaguar. He came out trying to shoot us, but Blake took him down and we got the police to take him away.”
There was a shocked silence, then Mother’s tearful voice: “Jesus, Claire, it sounds like something out of a movie…”
“I know, it’s been nuts. But I’m okay now, and that’s what’s important. I’m so sorry for worrying you.”
“It’s just…too terrible for words. Angelo. I mean, your father and I never liked him, but…trying to kill you! Christ.”
“I know, but he’s behind bars now, Mom. And after my statement, he’ll probably stay there.”
An exhalation of breath, then: “Well, your father and I are going to fly in tomorrow. Where are you staying?”
“Mother, you don’t have to do that. I’m not staying in town anyway.”
Another exhalation of breath. “Oh. Where are you staying?”
I glanced over at Blake and then walked outside.
If the cautious interest in Mother’s voice was any indication, this was going to be an awkward conversation.
“I’m with that man I told you about, the one who helped me—Blake.”
There was a silence that was too long. I resisted the urge to blurt out an unlikely excuse and hang up the phone. I had enough on my mind as it was. I didn’t need her doubt making it worse.
“Claire…” she said. “I hope you’re not… Just be careful, will you?”
“Yeah, Mom, I will.”
“I’m just… Your Father and I just worry about you. That’s all.”
“I’m sorry, I know.”
We stayed there, each of us breathing into the phone, knowing what the other wanted to say but wouldn’t dare.
“Okay, Mom, tell me when you and Dad arrive, and I’ll come down and meet you.”
“Okay, Claire. Be careful.”
I hung up before she could say more and then walked back inside.
Hearing a sizzling sound, I looked over to the stove to see Blake standing over a skillet.
“Making bacon,” he said, feeling my look.
“Oh, great,” I said, but he didn’t say anything in response.