A Dangerous Man (Chapter 1 and 2)*new*

 A Dangerous Man

                                                                     By Rachel Cade


                                                Dedication: For Ljay, with Lots of Love :)






Chapter One:
Breakdown


“Ciara Kimball?”

“Yes - that’s me.” She quickly pushed the half eaten twinkie into her clutch purse and tried to swallow discreetly.

The woman at the open door smiled her welcome, gesturing for her to come into the room. Standing, Ciara smoothed her yellow skirt and followed her into the discreet, neutral toned office.

“Please, have a seat.”

Ciara’s eyes fell on the overstuffed leather couch. No seat was specified, but if she was going to do therapy, she might as well go all the way.

The blinds in the office were closed, but the bright slivers of sunlight cracked through. She was sure if they
were opened they’d be greeted with an amazing view of D.C., but she was far more comfortable with the artificial light.

She sat in the center, resting her purse beside her, and quietly eyed the tall slender doctor, who was sitting across from her in a high backed leather chair. She had straight brown hair, slightly darker than her skin tone, in a side part, and Ciara couldn’t help but think Dr. Maureen Vickers looked far more like a news anchor than a psychiatrist. Her gaze slipped down to the other woman’s shoes, taupe Giseppe Zanotti’s, last season, which smartly matched her pantsuit. It made her wish she’d chosen something more serious to wear, instead
of the bright spaghetti strapped sundress.

Despite the generous air conditioning, Ciara could feel sweat dampening her back, she shifted in her seat, not allowing her bare skin to touch the chair.

“How can I help you today Ms. Kimball?”

She smiled in response, followed by a trickle of instinctive laughter.

Help was exactly what she’d come for, so why did her stomach do flip flops when the doctor spoke to get the ball rolling?

“Call me Ciara, please.”

“All right.” The doctor waited.

Going to therapy, seemed like a great idea a few weeks ago. She’d even felt stronger after making the secret appointment. But now, as she sat across from a woman who held not one iota of judgment in her expression or tone she wanted to press the rewind button on her life, and stop once she was safely back in her car.

“I - just wanted to talk.” She took a breath and tried to raise her voice from being on the verge of
mumbling. 

“I’ve never been to therapy before. I‘m not really sure how this works.”

Maureen clasped her hands on her maple desk. “There aren’t any rules to it really. We can talk about
whatever you want to talk about.”

“With me doing most of the talking right?” Ciara crossed her legs, tempted to reach in her bag for the rest of the twinkie.

“Yes.”

“Ok.” Ciara furrowed her brow. Staring across from the woman her mind went completely blank to the point where she couldn’t even think of her birthday. She bit down on her lip and released it before speaking.

“Could you ask me a question? Something more specific - maybe?”

“How old are you?”

“Thirty.”

“What do you do for a living?”

Ciara paused. Her tongue hit the roof of her mouth to stop the spiel of fabulosity that was about to spew forth. Most of her friends found it very entertaining, but  here - she could at least cut the bullshit.

“I let my parents take care of me.” She confessed.

“How’s your relationship with them?’

She pursed his lips, wrestling with herself to speak. “Fine. It’s whatever -- it’s supposed to be, I guess.”

“Meaning?”

Ciara collapsed her back against the couch. “They’ve been married three times - to each other. It’s been a really rocky road.” She cleared her throat, as a barrage of memories flew past her minds eye. “They’re divorced now. I’m pretty sure this is it.” She offered a short laugh. “I’m not affected by it anymore.”

“Are they on good terms?”

“They don’t speak - to each other.” She clarified again. “Me, they’re completely okay spilling paragraphs to.”

“So how do you feel about that?”

Ciara rubbed the tips of her fingers over her eyes. “It annoys me. My mom, is currently in matchmaker mode. She keeps setting me up on dates with guys - that are just like my father! Cue the irony.”

“What about your father?”

“He’s - distant. He always has been. But I know he loves me.” She quickly added, more for herself. “He’s never been the affectionate type, he’s the provider. I guess that’s supposed to be enough.”

“Is it?”

She thought about it. “He gives me anything I want.”

“Including love?”

Ciara laughed. “I know I’m here. But even I know better than to expect more from people than they have to give. Providing is how he expresses his love for me.”

“What about providing for yourself?”

“I went to college ... for a year and a half.”

“You didn’t finish your degree?”

“No.” She was embarrassed to admit it.

“You lost interest?”

“I - got married.”

“Really? Did the marriage last?”

“It was annulled. I was twenty one. My dad was - furious with me. I guess he had a right to be, it was my college professor.”

“The man you married?”

“Yes. It was really stupid. I don’t even think I loved the guy - it was just...”  She let her voice trail off with a shrug. It had been years since she’s given Devon any thought.

“Are you single now?”

Ciara nodded. “Yes. For like a year.”

“What have you been up to?”

“Just hanging out with friends. Spending money.” She sighed silently. Something that was fun at the time, sounded so bad now.

“I don’t have any real direction.” Ciara shook her head, and let the words come. “The only thing I can do right is screw up. My mother is an award winning novelist who could put Martha Stewart to shame on party hosting, and my dad’s a former Senator turned venture capitalist. How can I compare to that?”

The doctor leaned forward. “By living your own life. Doing what makes you happy and not worrying about your parents standards - or your friends’.”

Ciara pursed her mouth as Maureen’s words sank in. “But what if I don’t know what I want?”

Ciara was making her way to her rental car when the buzz of he iPhone rattled her purse. Just  the walk from the building to the curb had her nose and upper lip sweating. D.C. was sweltering in late summer heat.
Frustration and fear caused her erratic movements as she snatched the phone from her bag.

On reading the caller ID her eyes rolled. “Hey Phillip.” She answered sweetly.

“Bless you for answering the phone. Where are you, and please don’t say a yacht.”

Ciara sighed. “That sounds nice, but no, I’m in D.C. a little bit from home - about to sweat my nipples off.
What do you want?” She added accusingly while sliding into the BMW convertible.

“Can you do me a huge favor? I’m in Anapolis, on a shoot. My model is M.I.A. - can you please help me out?” He spoke over her groan. “Dinner’s on me.”

Ciara flipped on her Chanel shades, thankful for the rose tint that now shielded the blinding sun from her face. She spoke while adjusting the silver clip that kept her dark brown hair in a bun. “You want me to drive all the way to Anapolis, do a shoot for free and all I’m getting is dinner?”

There was silence on the other line for a moment.

“Okay, I’ll throw in dessert.”



Twenty minutes later, Ciara found herself in the opposite direction of home, speeding along the highway to Anapolis, with Phillip’s hastily written directions on her passenger seat.  Honestly, though she was annoyed with driving herself, she realized she was glad he’d called, he’d provided her with a necessary distraction to forget her pointless first therapy session.

She’d spent more time talking about her parents than herself.

And talking about herself was something she usually didn’t shy away from.
But this time she had.

The process left her feeling stupid and vulnerable, and  wondering what Maureen thought of her on a personal level? Just a spoiled little rich girl who didn’t mind shucking out a hundred and fifty dollars to whine for an hour.

There was supposed to be a point to it all.

She was angry with herself for not having a breakthrough. Time had ticked away until they were saying their goodbyes, she thanked the woman politely and left. She knew nothing more about herself than when she’d first arrived.

 Maureen had been quiet and patient and let her drive most of the conversation.

Perhaps the session would have been more beneficial if she’d revealed everything about her past. Silence penetrated her thoughts soon after, and her mouth pressed into a grimace as she moved along the road.


Ciara found her exit ramp and pulled off the highway, relieved to be free of the erratic patchwork of drivers zooming past her.

She continued onto her destination, but her relief was short lived, she realized within the next ten minutes she found herself on a dirt, tree lined road, with no highway in sight.

Swallowing, Ciara glanced around her car windows as the AC blasted cool air around her. She grabbed her cell phone. About half way into her first ring to Phillip the signal died.
“Oh no - no no no please don’t let me be lost.” She glanced at the paper. “Shit.”

She began talking to herself. “Ok, Cici, let’s just turn around. Go back the way we came, there’s got to be a way back on the highway.” She started to three point turn in the road. Shifting gears quickly, not remotely liking the dingy Blair Witch woods she suddenly found herself in, she hit the gas once the car was fully turned.

Soon she realized she was slowing down instead of speeding up. Her foot hit the gas pedal, once, twice, before stomping it, over and over.

She tried to turn the engine again with the car key, until she heard a screeching noise similar to the one she wanted to make.


Ciara’s skull collapsed against the back of the headrest.

She closed her eyes against a muttered, “Fuck.”

She removed the key from the ignition and grabbed her purse before yanking herself from the cool confines of the car. Slamming the door she glared at the pearl white automobile, sunlight carried along it’s sleek lines, which almost seemed to mock her with its uselessness. 

Almost immediately her stiletto heels sank into the unsteady gravel beneath her feet. For the first time in her life, she scolded herself for her taste in shoes. As she tried to catch her balance she immediately felt the sheen of perspiration line her nose and forehead.


The area around her appeared very unkept. The trees that lined the makeshift road grew into denser woods as she tried to peer through them. Aside from the occasional high pitched bird chirp there was silence, no breeze to make the branches rustle, and most importantly no sound of civilization.

After ten minutes of trying to get some kind of cell phone reception she finally understood that technology was going to completely fail her today, and the only way she would get out of this shit was to walk and find some help.

But her Louboutins were very unforgiving, and after about 5 minutes of trying to keep her balance on the uneven ground, she was cursing the designer, as well as herself for not owning a single pair of flat shoes.
Every so often she tested her cell phone signal, and each time it offered her no response she had to withstrain herself from chucking the small electronic into the woods.

Ciara kept along the path, trying to watch both sides of her as well her back. She tried to tell herself that she was alone but she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched. That behind one of the hundreds of trees around her some evil spector would reveal himself. The further she got from her useless rental and deeper into unfamiliar territory, the more panicked she became.

No one even knew where she was if something were to happen to her.
The only weapon she had beside her wits was a small three year old can of mace that her mom had given her. Did it even work?

She guessed her keys could gauge out an eye if need be. She held them tightly in her hand, not allowing them to make any noise as her throbbing soles pressed her along the road at what seemed like a snail’s pace.

The one function her phone still served was to tell proper time. It had now been four hours since she’d
become completely and utterly lost in Maryland backwoods thanks to hastily given - and written directions.

Several times she’s wiped tears from her eyes, she’d taken off her shoes during breaks. Then almost wanted to resume crying when she had to put them back on to continue. But a painful foot was better than needing a damn tetanus shot.

By the time she saw the outline of a building as she came to a curve in the road she thought it was a mirage. She had to blink twice before believing it.

There was a possibility the building could be abandoned, then she’d be right back at square one. And if it was occupied, that didn’t necessarily mean they’d have good intentions.

 Ciara swallowed between her quickening breaths, scanning the building as she got closer.
Should she call out for help?

A part of her denounced the idea as her fingers tightened on her keys, which were now mini blades forking through her knuckles.

The grass beneath her feet smothered the sounds of her steps while she rounded the building.


As she tried to assess whether or not the building could be occupied, she couldn’t help but think fate must have been laughing at her, complaining about a therapy session. Compare that to being out in the middle of fucking no where,  in a position where announcing herself could get her shot, and not announcing herself could get her shot.

Now in the front of the slightly dilapidated brick building, she realized it was a garage. The two large doors were pulled open, the sun’s place in the sky set the room inside in shadow, but revealed the tail end of a rusty sky blue pick up truck.

Ciara stopped in her tracks, adrenaline pumped hope and trepidation simultaneously through her veins.

“He - hello?” Her voice came out, a croaked whisper. She cleared her throat before repeating herself, warily eyeing her surroundings.

Several minutes passed, and there was no response. She sighed heavily, wiping her sweat stained brow with a damp hand.

Hesitantly, she moved closer to the garage, she had to at least attempt to see if there was a land line phone, or something that could help her.

For a moment, Ciara sighed as her body engulfed the shadow, it was only slightly cooler, but she was thankful for some decent refuge from the brutal sun rays. The smooth surface of the cement floor felt odd after hours of trekking across dirt and rolling pebbles.

It was probably pointless, but she moved her hand along the wall hoping for a working light switch. Her foot hit something, followed by a loud noise of metal crashing against the floor.

Her heart might as well have followed suit. She reached for her chest, and tried to catch her breath. Shortly after there was another noise, behind her, a loud boom she knew she hadn’t caused..
Nothing registered in her brain as her heeled feet scrambled for the exit.

Had she heard mumbling?

A safe distance away from the building she turned around.

A shadow lifted from the darkness of the garage, and as it came closer to the light she was tempted to run for dear life back down the road.

Swallowing, she instinctively prepared to ditch the shoes if she had to.

“What the hell?” The man grumbled. He was shielding his eyes from the sun, but she knew he was watching her.

“H - hi.” Ciara clenched the keys in her hand, staring across across at the man covered from head to toe in dirt and oil.

He lowered his hand from his eyes and stared at her, a very unwelcoming scowl marred his lips.

The stranger offered no greeting in return, but continued to stare.

Ciara unclenched her jaw. “I’m - really sorry to bother you.” As she spoke her eyes traveled down the length of his torso, past the grimy t shirt and jeans to see he was holding a large wrench in his hand.

“My -” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat before trying again. “My car broke down.”
She halted herself from saying anything more.

The wrench never strayed too far from her line of vision, even as he scratched his face with his forearm, causing her to notice his cropped and curling dirty blond hair.

The arched soles of her shoes sent a spiking pain up her legs, causing her to wince and shift her stance.
 “Would I be able to use your phone to call for a tow?”

“Where’s your car?” It wasn’t a polite request. And the gravelly pitch of his voice sent a shiver down her spine.

Ciara swallowed.

“Way - way down the road.” She lifted a weary arm to point in the direction she came.

He glanced in that direction and silently scoffed. She didn’t want to do anything to raise his obvious annoyance.

“I just need to call someone to tow it.” She stated.

“Yeah, I heard you the first time.”

He moved in a way that suggested he was in no hurry, turning his back on her to toss the wrench in the pickup’s rusty trunk.

She released a pent up breath.

“I don’t have a phone.”

She blinked, needing a moment to register his words. “I’m sorry - what?”

“I said I don’t have a phone.”

Ciara licked dry lips, which to her dismay had captured dirt particles and lord knew what else from her romp with nature. She wasn’t quite sure what to say. For a moment she prayed he was joking, but if so, he had one hell of a poker face.

She glanced beyond him, and hope heightened her voice. “Well could you give me a lift to the nearest town? I can pay you for your trouble.”

The man dug into his front pocket, with Ciara eyeing his every move and pulled out a stick of gum. He popped it into his mouth and chewed several times.

She glanced down at her clothes, then reached up to wipe sweat from her brow and smooth her hair. Did she not look a desperate mess? What was this guy’s problem?

“No car either.” He answered flatly.

Ciara blatantly eyed the pickup before pointing at it. “What’s that?”

The stranger side eyed the vehicle. “That is antique that ain’t run in twenty years.”

She picked up on the heavy southern drawl in his voice. He squinted at her as they stayed a distance apart, lazily chewing his gum. Whether the car did or didn’t run, would he have offered any assistance? 

Ciara got the sinking feeling that not only was she lost, but she might now be in the company of a useless, racist, redneck.










                                                                       Chapter Two :
                                                                          Stranger









Ciara wanted to scream, she wanted to so bad she had to swallow several times to keep it down. The sun was steadily shifting across the sky and according to the expensive clock that was her cell phone, she only had about two hours before it would set.

The man appeared tired of looking at her, his glance shifting around as his booted feet scuffed against the dirt patch he stood on. He pulled a worn red baseball cap out of his back pocket and sat it on his head adjusting the brim.

Ciara sighed, despite her bodies screaming protest she moved toward her previous trail, she knew it would be impossible to make it back to her car before nightfall.

“You leavin’?” He asked, surprising her.

She folded her arms, hating the damp slickness on her skin, and the way her clothes were sticking to her body. “I am. You don’t have a phone or a car, so you can’t help me.”

Risking a glance at him, she saw that he’d moved to sit on the bumper of the pickup. Her eyes widened slightly when she realized her was holding a bottled water in his hands. He unscrewed the cap, and took a hefty sip, the plastic crinkling loudly under his hand.

Before he pulled the bottle from his mouth she was stalking away. Well, she attempted to, but her feet
wouldn’t allow her to punish them that way. Wincing at the discomfort, she slowed her pace.

“I got an extra.”

Ciara stopped again, she was nearing the side of the garage and he was almost out of her line of vision.

“Water,” he continued, holding a second bottle in his hand. “You want it?”

Pride clawed at her to refuse. But the heat, her fatigue and the futility of the day trumped it.

“Yes.” She answered quietly.

The brim of his hat and shadow of the garage wouldn’t let her see his expression, and she was thankful.

“Catch.”

The bottle came air sailing in her direction. It wasn’t a hard throw but she hadn’t been expecting it, reflexively her fingertips only skimmed the bottle before it hit the ground with a thud. She cursed out loud before bending over to retrieve it, fortunately it fell in the grass.

Thankfully the plastic didn’t crack, she quickly drained the bottle of its content, hearing a vague apology come from him while she drank.

After she finished she stood there for a moment, not remembering a time when simple water tasted so damn good.

Ciara shook her head, dismissing his apology. “Thank you.”

There was an awkwardness that followed, she wouldn’t look directly at him, but kept his frame in her peripheral. “Are there - any houses out here or anything?” She closed her mouth over the other questions she had, not even sure he would answer that one. His expression was still mostly hidden from her, and she could tell nothing from his body language.

“Not really.”

“What’s not really mean?” She kept her voice as light as possible.

“You mean a nearby town or a neighbor, right? That’s why I said no.” The stranger’s voice was still gruff, he leaned forward to setting his elbows on his greasy jeans. He appeared pretty at home resting against the rusty truck.

Ciara sighed, and leaning her head sideways a moment. It wasn’t the answer she wanted, but it was in line with the rest of the day.

With the empty bottle in her hand she left his company wordlessly, their meeting seemed too unconventional for a goodbye.


“Hey high heels?” She stopped yet again on the path, annoyed, yet curious.

“Yes?” They were both out of each others line of vision.

He didn’t answer, and she moved back around to the front of the garage. He emerged at the door, holding a white plastic chair that was about as dingy as he was.

He placed the chair in the grass in front of the garage, a bit of a distance away from the truck before going back to sit on the bumper.

Ciara glanced back at the trail again discreetly. She squinted at the sunlight burning across the sky over her head. Before she could weigh the consequences, her body made the choice for her, sitting  in the chair with a soft thud.  The pressure taken off her legs and feet forced her exhale.

She checked her phone to see if she could get a signal to call or text. But there was nothing.

The landscape was a bit different here, the trees were more sparse, there was lots of tall grass and high, unkept hedges. If she kept walking instead of backtracking she wondered if she‘d become even more lost.


“Ciara ... my name’s Ciara.”

He nodded twice and said nothing, making her feel silly for the introduction. Maybe he just wanted her to sit there and shut up.

The plastic chair offered some comfort, but her predicament was still the same and it weighed on her, the tension tightened her shoulders and neck.

“So you don’t like being called ‘high heels’ then?”

Her brow furrowed, his tone wouldn’t betray whether he was joking or not.

“Ciara’s a little better.” She rested her back more in the chair. “Unless I can call you 'boots’ or ‘cap’?” 

He rubbed his nose, but the line of his mouth didn’t change. She guessed he hadn’t been joking.

“Uh,” She glanced down at her shoes. “I don’t think after today I’ll wear another pair of these again.”

“Do you mind if I ask how the hell you got down here?”

Ciara twisted in the chair, to face him. Accusation tinged his voice, and she hoped he didn’t assume she purposefully did this. Or perhaps he was just angry she was there at all.

“I took the wrong exit. When I tried to turn around my car stopped on the road. I got out and started walking, you’re the first person I’ve seen all afternoon.”

Waiting for a reaction from him she grit her teeth.  If Phillip never called her she wouldn’t be in this mess.

“Could you walk back with me and just look at it?” She blurted. 

The brim of his hat shifted. “How long did it take you to get here from your car?”

She shook her head. “Around four hours.”

“Not enough daylight left.”

Her fingers reflexed into fists. Desperation gnawed at her, provoking anxiety. “You have to have a flashlight or lantern or something around!”

The strangers gum chewing slowed. He was staring right at her, only the brim of his hat indicated he was staring right at her.

“I have cash on me. I can pay you whatever you want.”

“Look,” he stated, “Pokin’ around in the dark to check out a car I probably can’t fix ain’t on my agenda tonight.”

A torturous warm breeze blew hair into her face. She swatted at it angrily, before speaking. “As soon as I get to town I can get you more money!”

He didn’t budge. “It’s not about money. I just don’t wanna do it.”


Heat singed her eyes. “Please.” She turned away from him, her feet ached, her back was killing her, and she barely recognized her own voice. “I don’t know what else to do.”

The last thing she wanted to do was cry. She turned her head away, gritting her teeth against it but, but the salty tears trailed down her cheeks.

Ciara fought with herself to try to gain some composure, but it wasn’t forthcoming.

“Here, it’s my-” The male voice was too close.

He was right next to her!

Gasping, she lurched from her seat to put distance between them, the chair tipping over from her frantic movement.

He raised both hands. Perhaps a brief moment of surprise slackened his jaw before his mouth returned to a flat line.

“I was just offering you my last water.” He gripped it in his left hand. Cautiously, he reached forward and picked up the chair. “I’m just gonna set it here.” He placed the bottle in the seat.

Ciara wiped her eyes quickly as he moved to put more distance between them, but stayed out of the garage.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Swallowing slowly, she tried to regain control of her heartbeat.

Leaning forward she grabbed the water. “Thank you.” and promptly started on the trail a third time.”

“Wait a second, you’re not seriously going back to your car now?” He pulled his cap off, and shoved it back into his pocket.

“Yes!” She breathed as her eyes widened. “What else is there for me to do?”

He pursed his mouth. “After nightfall you won’t be able to see your hand in front of your face. And add to that it’s gonna to rain soon.”

She made a face. “Rain? What are you talking about?.” The sky over their heads held a smattering of clouds.

“Trust me.”

Ciara gave him a look.

The corner of his mouth down turned for a second. “Well, as much as possible given the situation.”

She sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Right.” She laughed shortly. Unscrewing the cap off the water she said, “I had a short frustrated cry, not an - unstable cry.” before taking a long sip.
“You done now then?”

She nodded quickly, noting his facial discomfort before it disappeared behind a stone mask. Embarrassed by the whole scene she just wanted to change the subject.

“Do you - live out here?”

He peered at her, the grease on his face contrasted heavily with his blond locks.

“I’m intruding.” She quickly answered, trying to cover her own nervousness. She hated the silence between them. It drew her attention to the wilderness stretched out around them, never before in her life had she felt so isolated ...

“Sort of.” He wiped sweat from his brow, and for the first time she realized, he was sweating pretty heavily, his grimy t shirt was sticking to his shoulders. “I mean - I sort of live out here.”

There was something odd about his accent that she hadn’t noticed before, it was southern, but there was something else to it.

Also, he didn’t seem like much of a talker.

The water hit her stomach and it clenched painfully. And she remembered she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

Her mouth grimaced, before her hand began scrambling inside her purse. She found the half eaten twinkie that she hastily shoved inside earlier.

After two unladylike  bites she glanced up at him. “I’d offer you some - but - it’s half a twinkie...”

“Oh, I’m alright, thanks.” Ciara knew she hadn’t heard amusement in her tone. She licked frosting out of the corner of her mouth.

“This just isn’t my day.” She admitted. “Definitely going in the top five.” She stared down at the white filling of the treat when something cold hit her shoulder. Startled, she reached to touch it when another hit the top of her head.

“There it goes.” He mumbled.

But it went unheard by Ciara as a fine mist of rain filtered from the sky. “Oh my God!” She squealed.

He was far closer to the garage than she was. Two large steps and he was under shelter. But she wasn’t so lucky. The fine mist of rain quickly turned into something more serious, easily drenching the loose soil around
her, making her dash to join him far more treacherous. The earth was like quicksand to her pointed heels.

She literally ran on her tip toes, praying she wouldn't tip over.

By the time she made it inside the brick building she looked - and felt, like a drowned rat.
Ciara tried to catch her breath while suppressing an agonized groan.

“How in the hell did you know it was going to rain?”

He wiped water out of his own face. “You can smell it.”

“You can also watch The Weather Channel.” Ciara frowned at the wet plastic and soggy twinkie still in her hand before tossing it out into the rain. Clouds were moving across the sky, and would eventually block out the sun before nightfall.

“Those shoes are gonna get you in trouble, miss.”

She glanced down at the spiked monstrosities. Her pink nail polish was chipped and there was mud between her toes. “I think they already have.” She mumbled.


They stood in silence while the rain beat against the roof over their heads. She folded her arms against her chest, in the dank garage with soaked clothes and hair, the temperature had gone from sweltering to cool.

He was peering out into the wall of rain in front of them. His side profile was straight and relaxed as his head almost reached the doorframe.

Ciara’s discomfort was overshadowed by the wariness of being in a confined space with him. The cement floor appeared clean, so she leaned against the wall and removed each of her shoes by the strap. Setting her flat feet against the cold surface was a relief. When she glanced up, he was watching her.

“How do you walk in those things?” He asked.

Her mouth folded. “It’s an art form.” She answered blandly.

The rainwater had washed some of the mud off his face, but the combination of the bad lighting made it hard to tell what he looked like. He did appear to have nice bone structure though.

And why was she even noticing that?

“I bet it is.” He drawled, not looking at her.

He sighed heavily before pulling his t shirt. “Look - I have a ride that’s coming to pick me up the morning. He can give you a lift to the city.” He bent forward, wiping his face with the edge of his shirt.

Ciara’s gaze slipped to the oil smudge expanse of skin he revealed. She made sure she eyes kept moving toward the ground.

“So you can stay here till then if you want.” He mumbled the offer, still not offering eye contact. And when he moved to go outside before she could accept she blurted .”Where are you going?”

“Home.” He thumbed to his right. “I have a cottage just up the path.”

Ciara’s eyes widened at his admission. “But it’s pouring.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “And I don’t know when it’s gonna stop. A lil’ rain never killed anybody - 'cept maybe you.” 

She let out a breath on the joke at her expense.

He waited. Then he turned to face her. He rested a fist on the hip of a lean swimmer’s frame,  Ciara in turn waited while he assessed her. The crinkle in her toes was the only giveaway to the awkwardness she felt. 

“You don’t want to come back there with me do you?” There was a genuine astonishment in his tone, she would have found funny in another situation.

But she didn’t really know how to answer him.

This entire situation was like being caught between a rock and a hard place, her options slim to none. Was she supposed to accept a non offer to go behind lock and key with someone she didn’t know, who was obviously annoyed with her presence?

Damn, she must have looked pretty pathetic just then.

His mouth was a flat line. “Well, you flipped out when I was just offering you water-”

“I didn’t hear you - and you were just there. And it scared me.” She corrected quickly.

What she wouldn’t give to be home, submerged in a hot bubble bath, that she swore she wouldn’t emerge from for at least two hours.

His foot shifted on the ground, his voice low. “I apologize.”

“So do I.” Though she usually didn’t. “You were minding your own business - and I invaded your space, and drank all your water.”

He let out a quick breath, she again found herself wondering if he was amused, but let it go.

“Like I said, I don’t know when this is going to let up.” The rain was still pretty heavy, a hushed sound penetrating the natural silence as it stabbed the earth. “Just follow me then, if you’re coming.”

He darted out into the elements with his shoulders hunched.

Slack jawed, Ciara stared after him, before snatching her shoes off the ground and running behind him. The path he led her on was narrow and hedge lined. She hugged her unzipped purse to her as cool summer rain pummeled and drenched her body. She could barely see in front of her face and the path was winding and turning, a virtual maze of moss green.

Ciara prayed she wasn’t making a mistake following this man to some unknown destination, but there was no way in hell she was spending the night alone in that spooky garage.