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by Kitt Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Romance/Love · #1627737
This is a story about finding ones self, hope and true love in the least likely of places.
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#680221 added August 24, 2010 at 10:00pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter One: Awakening
Rain. Shattering glass. A woman crying. Men yelling. Blood and flames everywhere. Flashing lights bouncing off the twisted metal and fragments of glass. Pain. So much pain. The smell of smoke and burning flesh. 

         Jessica woke up with a cry. Sweat soaked her sheets and plastered her hair to her head. Her pillow was soaked with it. It took her several moments to realize where and when she was.

         Just the dream. Again! Will it ever begin to make sense? Will I ever really remember what happened that night or just be tormented with the confused swirl of impressions in that damn dream? She glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. It glowed at her menacingly reminding her of the nightmare. The red digits said it was only three in the morning. Damn it! Less than 2 hours sleep this time. And I don’t feel like I got any rest at all.

         Even after four months she still hadn’t gotten used to waking up in the new house.

         When will it feel like home? When will the nightmares stop! She wondered. The same things she thought every time she woke from the nightmare to her strange new home. She had thought moving to a small town so far away from Dallas and everything that might remind her of the last year of her life would have made the nightmares stop but so far it hadn’t helped one bit. I don’t think I have had a decent nights sleep in over nine months.

         Angels Bay Washington was a far cry from Dallas Texas but that wasn’t what she couldn’t get used to. It was the feeling of not belonging. It was a feeling she didn’t think had anything to do with the place or even the people. It was just her.

         Without realizing it she fingered the scars on her back and wondered if anyone would be able to find her attractive again. Her hand slid up to the base of her neck hidden by her hair. Feeling the scars there she whimpered feeling the desolation of knowing that no one could find such things beautiful.

         Unable to stay in bed any longer she stood and walked naked to the full length antique mirror in the corner of the room. She turned and saw with painful clarity the scars trailing along her back and over her right shoulder. Twisting her long thick hair up on her head she saw the scars traveling up her back to the base of her neck, stopping just shy of where the neckline of a t-shirt would be. Remembering how she loved to be kissed and caressed there tears sprang to her eyes as she reminded herself that it would never happen again. Blinking back the tears, she forced herself to look at the horror that was once perfect skin. The skin she had so carelessly used to love to showing off. Once she had been beautiful and desirable and thought little of it. Now she saw what she had become and knew it would do no good to lie to herself. Everyday she woke up and made herself look at what she was so that she would know the truth of her life now and accept it. She sighed heavily.

         Mother would be so proud. She had been a cold woman who did not suffer fools or pity and judged everything on appearances and how it would reflect upon herself. Jessica could practically hear her mothers thoughts now. “You just have to realize the truth and put all fantasy out of your mind. If you don’t you will end up more broken hearted in the end. Lying to yourself will not change the truth!” Yes she could hear it as clear as if her mother Janice was still alive and in the room with her.

         Jessica studied the woman in the mirror and tried to be objective. She absorbed the details of her body; her large almond shaped emerald green eyes that had never failed to bring her compliments, her thick mane of dark chestnut hair which she knew had ruby colored highlights in the sun, her smooth olive skin and well proportioned curves and shapely breasts and buttocks. She realized that she would still be considered attractive by people who did not know what her clothes kept hidden but that was just the problem. As soon as someone saw the hideousness that those innocuous clothes concealed they would no longer see the beauty. They would see the truth of what she went to great pains to keep secret. She knew she couldn’t bear to go through that. Certainly not with someone she cared about, and for it to get that far again she would have to care about someone deeply. It just wasn’t a heartache she could endure. Loneliness and fear were hard enough but rejection would be too much.

         She turned and walked closer to the mirror to study the scar above her left ear and the ones on her ribs along her right side. Someone beat me, kicked me, cut me and more but WHY? She wondered again who it was that had given her these scars and abused her so viciously that night nine months ago.  Jessica shook her head in frustration. Every time she tried to remember what had happened she came up blank or with vague feelings of pain and fear and anger but no useful details like the face of her attacker or the details of what happened. She honestly hoped she never remembered the details. With what she had been told had been done to her she didn’t want the memory associated with them. She just wanted to remember the face so she could give it to the police and she could at least live without the constant numbing fear that whoever it was would come back for her in the fear she might remember. That worry was never far from her mind. It was another reason she had moved so far away. She just hadn’t felt safe there in Dallas anymore.

         
         She didn’t know how long she stood staring at herself in the mirror thinking those dark thoughts but it felt like only minutes. The sky was still dark. The loud clanging of her doorbell made her jump in surprise, startling her out of her thoughts.

         Who is at my door at this hour? What time is it? Glancing at the clock she was shocked to find it was 4:30 in the morning. She had been at the mirror for an hour and a half!

         She Snatched her summer house robe from the chair by the bed. It was a skimpy affair that barely came to her knees made of thin silk, a remnant of her old life that she only wore when she was totally alone after dark. She threw it on and belted it tight at her waist.

         Thinking it had to be some kind of emergency if someone was here at such an early hour she half ran to the front door pausing only for a moment to consider the thought that it was her attacker returned to finish the job he started in Dallas. Silly girl! She rebuked herself harshly. He wouldn’t be likely to use the doorbell would he?

         Thinking nothing of her attire, she was in the process of swinging open the front door when she realized her terrible mistake as she saw the shoulder of the man on her doorstep appear in the opening. Struggling to make the thin silk cover more than was possible, she was momentarily unaware of the small bundle cradled in the mans arms.

         When she had opened the door, Mark almost completely forgot about the cat resting in his arms and came close to dropping the furry bundle to the ground. My God! He thought. She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Why does she cover herself up so much when outside? Recovering quickly, he noticed that she seemed totally pre-occupied with pulling at the robe as if it wasn’t big enough and she had just realized it, though it seemed perfectly decent to him.

         “Excuse me. I am sorry to bother you this early Miss Carrel. I saw your light was on. I believe this little fellow belongs to you.” He nodded his head at the furry bundle in his arms. His own long black hair swinging loose around his shoulders hiding part of his face in shadow.

         “I, umm. What? I’m sorry.” Still struggling with the robe she finally looked up at the man and the cat he was holding. “Oh! Sasha! I don’t understand. What happened?” She blurted sounding as out of breath as if she had just run a mile. Jessica felt confused and wondered how he had come across Sasha. She looked back into the cabin as if expecting Sasha to be there.

         “Well, Mam, I was taking a walk this morning and heard this little rascal out trying to face down a wild cat twice her size.” Without lifting his head he glanced up at Jessica then back down to the cat. “She got a little roughed up before I could get to her but nothing that needs a doctor.  A few scratches is all and I fixed them right up. She will be just fine in a few days or so.”

         He looked up at Jessica. Then he looked a little closer. “Are you all right? You seem upset about something?” She had stopped struggling with her robe but now looked horrified.

         The concern in his voice was apparent and Jessica turned a furious shade of red feeling every inch of her skin that was exposed burn with shame. She was sure none of the scars were visible but she was as horrified as if she stood there stark naked.

         “F-Fine. I am fine. Just worried about Sasha. You said she was hurt?” She couldn’t meet his eyes and instead stared at the cat laying comfortably in his arms. She couldn’t help but notice the powerful muscles  of his arms, and the scratches that covered his forearms from fingertip to elbow where the skin disappeared under the rolled up sleeves of his plaid work shirt.

         For just a split second she wondered what the rest of his arms looked like under those sleeves. NO! Can’t think like that damn it.  She told scolded herself mentally. I am just concerned with his scratches. Really!

         Yeah right! The voice that sounded remarkably like her mother snickered in her mind.

         “She will be fine Mam. Just a few scratches.” Mark looked closer into Jessica’s face. Worry etched on his handsome dark face. “Are you sure you are ok Miss Carrel?”

         “I’m fine.” She held her head a little higher and tilted her chin slightly. She glanced again at his scratches, some of which were still bleeding. He said he had taken care of Sasha’s wounds but what about his. He must not have even cleaned them. Smears of blood traced along his arms in thin tracks. She also noticed that she had kept him holding her cat on the font porch this whole time.

         “Oh my, your hurt and here I have kept you standing out there this whole time. I am so sorry!” She stepped back from the door and urged him inside.

         “No. Not at all Miss Carrel. I am the one who woke you up before dawn. Don’t worry at all about those scratches. They are just surface wounds.” He said as he stepped shyly into her entryway.

         As he passed into the house within barely a foot of herself she realized again her exposed body and flushed from head to toe. She gathered the fabric at her chest and began to stammer out an invitation to the living room while she changed into something appropriate. Without waiting for a reply she dashed back to her bedroom down the hall and fell into her room with a muted cry.

         Her chest was on fire and beginning to close up. I can’t breathe! Oh god no. Another attack! She was panting and unable to catch her breath. She grabbed at the vial of pills on her bedside table. She swallowed two pills then stumbled to the bathroom and washed them down with water. Splashing cold water on her face she forced herself to calm down and breath slowly. After a few moments she felt the panic attack begin to pass and her breathing start to return to normal.

         “Miss Carrel. Are you alright? Miss Carrel?” She heard his footsteps hesitate between each sentence as he got closer to the bedroom door. His voice worried and shy.

         He must think I am crazy! Well he has reason to.

         “I will be right out. Just stumbled is all. I-I’m fine.” She called out in a voice that was high and shaky and not at all how she meant to sound. Just stop it right now Jessica! You are making a complete fool of yourself. By noon today everyone in town will think you are twice as nuts as they already do. With that chiding she breathed in deeply and regained some control of herself.

         She flung the offending robe across the room like a viper ready to strike her. She went to the closet and grabbed out light blue sweat pants and a T-shirt that she knew would cover every bit of her scarred flesh. She glanced in the mirror satisfied that everything was covered. Then she noticed her hair. She groaned and swept her fingers through her mussed curls in a futile attempt to tame them. It was no use and she was taking too long as it was. She shrugged and left the room, steeling herself to face the man again.

         Mark heard Jessica’s small cry as she entered her bedroom and instinctively moved toward the hall before he could remind himself that he had no right. He waited and listened for any sound that she was ok. Hearing a stumble and another moan he was unable to stand it anymore and moved slowly down the hall calling out to her waiting for a response that would indicate she was all right. When she finally responded he was almost to the door. She sounded out of breathe but in no danger that he could tell. He reluctantly moved back to the living room. Only when he stood in front of the couch did he realize he no longer held the cat. He looked around and found her curled up on a warm looking, much used, fleece throw blanket in a lined wicker cat bed near the fireplace.

         “Well you look comfy.” He smiled at the cat who gave him the most cursory glance. As if she was thinking he was not important to her now that he was no longer providing a service. He quietly chuckled at the cat.

         “She only lets me pretend that I run the house now and then.” Said a quiet voice behind him. Startled he spun around. He had not heard her walk into the room.

         “Yes, the same as mine.” He smiled warmly at Jessica, sharing a cat lovers joke and exposing an astonishingly beautiful smile. The rows of perfect white teeth fairly shone against his dark copper skin. He could do toothpaste commercials, she thought idiotically to herself.

         Jessica was unprepared for the change that came over the mans face when he smiled. A genuine smile. It changed his shy brooding face into a gorgeous man full of laughter. She was momentarily struck dumb and simply gaped at him.

         Jessica noticed he was exceptionally tall at a few inches over six feet and probably closer to six and half feet and well built but did not carry himself like he thought of himself that way. His movements were completely unconscious and fluid. He seemed a man completely comfortable in his skin.

         He had rich smooth copper toned skin and long shiny blue black hair that came almost to the middle of his back and flowed like silk as he moved. Obviously Native American with his coloring and finely sculpted facial features. The only attributes that gave away Anglo Saxon heritage was his piercing grey eyes and the slight wave to his hair. His face was remarkably handsome, or maybe beautiful was a better word though there was a brooding sadness there that kept one from seeing it.

         “I am sorry I should have introduced myself. I’m Mark Taylor. I live next door. Well, really on the next bit of land over. Out here you can’t really call it next door, the houses aren’t close enough for that.” He studied Jessica surreptitiously hoping she wouldn’t notice his attention. He was fascinated with this attractive woman who kept so much to herself.

         He had taken particular notice of her since she first moved to town four months before. She kept to herself so much though that he had not had the chance to introduce himself. He had seen the way other people, men mostly, had pursued her when she first arrived. He had seen how she all but ran from every person who tried to talk with her. She seemed to want to be left totally alone and he could understand that. After all, that is why he had come to this small town as well.

         Jessica could feel Mark’s eyes on her. She was acutely aware of people watching her. She felt people were always staring at her. The fact that they really were didn’t help. She hated it when people stared. She felt that they could see her scars even when she knew they were well covered. This time however his attention did not make her feel like some kind of a freak. Instead she felt a fluttering warmth in her stomach. Now what the hell is this? Jessica was shocked at her own response to this man.

         “I should be going. I am sorry I disturbed you. I was only returning your cat” He looked over at Sasha curled up and watching them. “And I have done that.” He smiled pleasantly and turned toward the door. “I am sorry to bother you.” Stop repeating yourself. You sound like an idiot! Mark cringed inwardly. No wonder she is looking at me like I am from another planet.

         “No. Please let me clean up those scratches. It’s my fault that it happened.” She had already grabbed the first aid kit from the shelf in the kitchen so Mark dutifully sat on the couch.

         “Really it’s nothing I can’t take care of myself.”

         “No, I insist. I won’t feel right if I let you leave like that.” She said firmly. Finally, I sound like a normal person. She was pleased with herself for that simple act and her unusual bravery in inviting him to stay longer.

         Jessica pulled out the hydrogen peroxide and cotton balls from the first aid kit and sat on the coffee table in front of Mark reaching for one of his arms. He held it out to her. She was focused on his arm so he took this chance to watch and study her intently.

         He watched as she dabbed the moist cotton balls against his scratches obviously trying not to hurt him and he almost laughed as she gently cleaned his minor wounds. He didn’t even feel the sting of the scratches as he was so intent on studying her. His fingers itched from wanting to touch her hair to see if it was as soft and thick as it looked. Her face was more than merely beautiful with only a small scar barely noticeable just under her hair line above her left ear. Her lips were a perfect cupids bow shape. They were a natural rosy pink shade that needed no lipstick. Her skin was a warm olive complexion that glowed in the light from the single pale lamp in the corner. He studied her perfectly arched eyebrows as if the secret to life lay within them and became engrossed with her hair. It was impossible to tell just what color it was. He had noticed before when he saw her in town how her hair shimmered in the sun with deep russet highlights and seemed almost black in the moonlight when he had seen her out late one night. Now in the light of the single lamp it looked like a deep auburn.

         He was so intent upon studying her features that he didn’t notice when she looked up at him shyly and her fingers stopped their ministrations. He startled a bit when his eyes met hers. He saw something dark in their green depths. He could not define what he saw but it made him fully aware of every part of his skin that was in contact with hers. He was also painfully aware of her trembling fingers and thought she must be afraid of something. It reminded him of the way she avoided everyone and seemed terrified of meeting people and having even a mundane conversation with them. He wondered why this amazingly beautiful woman would seem so afraid and shy of people. He knew something had to have happened to her. He didn’t know what her story was but he couldn’t help the possibilities that flowed through his mind.

         Jessica saw many things flash behind his gray eyes, but had not the first idea of what the man was thinking. His face was unreadable and his eyes were so intense they made her want to turn away but couldn’t. Instead she breathed a deep sigh and struggled to gain control of herself again.

         “This arm wasn’t too bad. Let me see the other.” She said it in an almost normal voice and silently cheered for that small miracle. She looked down to the other arm and as he turned it and stretched it out to her she gasped before she could stop herself.

         Her gasp drew Mark’s attention from his own thoughts. He looked down at his arm and was surprised to see a deep scratch on his inner forearm. He hadn’t even felt it before, though now he felt the sting.

         “Oh, I didn’t even notice it.”

         “Did Sasha do that to you?” She looked horrified and glanced from his face to her cat still curled up in her bed.

         “Probably the other cat. It was pretty vicious. I am actually surprised that Sasha wasn’t more hurt. Oh don’t worry I checked her out thoroughly. She is fine.”

         “That might need stitches!”

         “Nah. It’ll be ok. Just some butterfly closures should work fine.” He felt it with his other hand, opening the wound. As he did so more blood seeped out. “It’s not very deep, looks worse than it is.”

         She set to work cleaning and closing it up with the butterfly bandages. She finished cleaning the other small scratches on his arm all the while remaining painfully aware of his eyes on her and the warmth of his skin where she touched him.

         How long had it been since she had felt the warmth of another persons skin? Almost a year. She knew exactly the last time. The night of the accident nine months ago. Only the nurses and doctors had touched her after that, and they always felt cold.  When they had been treating her burns it had been pain she felt more than anything else. The liquid fire of her skin, the cold shock of the stuff they smeared on her and the coldness of their touch and voices. She had refused to see anyone. Not her friends, co-workers or even Peter.

         “Miss Carrel?”

         Mark’s question brought her out of her reverie and she realized she had stopped moving and her hands hovered over his arm where she had been cleaning a scratch.

         “Oh. Sorry. I must be more tired than I thought.” She tried to smile to take some of the awkwardness out of the moment.

         Mark cringed and berated himself. You dolt! It isn’t even day break and you barge over here and then keep her up tending your pathetic scratches!

“I apologize Miss Carrel. I really shouldn’t have imposed like this.” He inched to the side so that he could stand up.

         “No, Mr. Taylor, it wasn’t your fault at all. I was already awake. I - I wasn’t sleeping well.” She was sorry to see him so eager to leave and shocked at herself for that thought. “And please call me Jessica. We are neighbors, and after this we should be on a first name basis. After all you’re on first names with my cat.” She looked shyly up at him standing when he did. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you saving Sasha. She isn’t an outside cat at all. She isn’t a fighter. She is far too spoiled for that.” She looked down at her hands realizing she was rambling.

         “Well if we are on a first name basis, Jessica, then I must insist you call me Mark.” He grinned at her, and again her stomach did that funny flutter and roll.

         They stood staring at each other for a minute then he burst out laughing. “I’m sorry I am acting like a foolish teenager. I’m sorry to bother you and it was no trouble at all helping your cat. I was, after all, already out for a walk. I was having trouble sleeping as well.” He grinned at her again. “I really must get going and leave you be now. I have to be at an appointment in town this morning at six. If I am going to make it I had better hurry.”

         He moved toward the front door and looked back at her right behind him. “Thanks again for the first aid. I hadn’t realized I had that gash there. If you need anything just let me know. I am just down the road.” He waved as he stepped off her porch and began to walk down the drive and then cut across the yard toward his own property. There were no fences in between the two lots.

         She stood on the porch and watched him go. He stopped and turned at the tree line of her yard and waved to her before disappearing into the woods. His smile luminous in the dim light of morning. The sun was just beginning to lighten the eastern sky.

         She sat down on the wide swing that hung on her porch. As she curled up and watched the sun slowly climb into the sky, she thought about Mark Taylor. His face floated before her eyes as she lay back on the swing pulling the quilt she kept there over her legs, and sleepily thought of everything she could remember about him. 

         Those gray eyes like granite that hid so much. His long shiny blue/black hair that made her think of a deep lake in the moonlight. The burnished copper color of his skin. The rich deep tone of his voice that seemed so gentle and caring.

         She had seen him around town now and then since she’d moved to Angels Bay. Of all the people in town, especially the men, he was the only one who hadn’t come on to her or gone out of the way to stop her and talk to her. Even the married men in town had come up to her and tried to get her attention. She had studiously avoided everyone in town. Well, except Janet who wouldn’t take no for an answer and though she was pushy and stubborn she had a way of making a person feel comfortable. Although even that friendship was a tenuous one.

         Mark Taylor. She drifted into a light sleep with only the curious question floating through her mind of why he seemed almost as distant from everyone here as she was herself. What are his secrets? She wondered as she drifted off to sleep.
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