Page 13 of Protected By the Lumberjack
Honey
Voices outside the door pull me out of a sleep I'm reluctant to let go of. I'd been dreaming of Carver; that I was back home on the mountain with him.
Waking up to the nondescript hotel bedroom and Todd's grating voice outside the door reminds me that I'm not.
I feel groggy, but I guess that's to be expected after all the crying I did yesterday-- and the screaming-- and the one good hit I got in when Todd told me to calm down.
My limbs feel heavy and I'm not terribly interested in opening my eyes.
Weird thing about getting your memory back-- you kinda forget that you forgot. At least, that's how it is for me.
My dad's business partner has the most annoying voice; it has a nasal twang to it that only goes up an octave when he's trying to bullshit his way into getting what he wants.
That's the sound my ears hone in on outside the closed door. I can't make out the words, just Todd's whiney little voice raised in a volume that suggests he must be talking to someone he's mad at.
Like he was at me yesterday, when he forced me to leave Moonshine Ridge with him.
Information blurs in my brain as I try to chase bits and pieces down and force it into order: Todd showing up with legal documents that gave him guardianship over me because of my amnesia. Deputy Hawkins' apologetic expression when he told me I had to go with the men I didn't remember. The fury raging in Carver's face while I was herded into a vehicle and taken away from him against my will...Todd's instance that he loved me.
If I wasn't nauseous already, that thought definitely has me scanning the room for the bathroom.
More pieces move and click into place, filling the timeline in a little more.
Todd-- and that slimy friend of his-- trying to convince me that we were engaged. That I wasin lovewith him. That Carver had taken advantage of my amnesia and I had some sort of Stockholm Syndrome-- that I'd see Carver as the predator he was once I got into therapy.
Here's the thing though-- I remember Todd now. I know who I am and why I was on that airplane. Just as well as I know that Carver's far from being the predator in this scenario.
What I don't know, however-- is everything that happened after Todd and his goon brought me to this hotel.
It's a creepy kind of reverse from how the last few weeks have felt. Before, everything started with waking up in that crashed plane. Suddenly, everything ends with getting to this hotel.
With more effort than I think it should take, I sit up. The clock by the bed says ten seventeen but I don't know if that's AM or PM, especially with the heavy, black-out curtains drawn to keep the room dark.
My mouth feels like I've been chewing on cotton. Maybe like I got really drunk before passing out. Except, the only thing I remember drinking was a fountain soda that Todd's lackey brought up from the git and go across the street.
Outside the door, I hear more voices. I catch a few words here and there, but nothing that I can make sense out of. So I go to the door and carefully open it, hoping to understand the conversation without my captor-- oh, sorry,guardian-- realizing I'm listening.
Even the back of Todd's head grosses me out. There's nothing wrong with it-- I just find the man repulsive after being tied up in legal battles with him for nearly two years because he can't stand that my father left his half of their business to me instead of having it revert to the partner who wants to run it into the ground instead of taking the offer on the table to sell the company to an outfit that will actually keep it going.
Engaged, my ass. I wouldn't marry Todd Olsen if--
Todd smugly tells the other men that he and I got married last night. Shock and revulsion war for control of my reaction. Swinging the door open fully, I'm about to rip the man's head off, when I see who he's talking to.
A handful of uniformed officers, one I recognize as Deputy Hawkins from up on the Ridge, and standing in front of the man claiming to be my husband, is the man I love.
Carver knocks Todd aside to make room for me as I run straight into his arms.
Carver
Todd Olsen is a lucky man. Honey throws the door wide and rushes me, pushing him aside in the process, which saves him from a fist to the face and a boot to the neck once he's down.
"Are you all right?"
I'd kiss her forever, but I need to look her over and make sure she's okay first.
Honey's still in the clothes she was wearing yesterday, no buttons undone, nothing on backwards, when I run my hand over her back, her bra's still on. It looks like she slept in her clothes, but there's no indication they've been messed with.
Glaring at the man who took her from me, I tuck Honey to my chest and bare my teeth, pleased with the way the color drains from his face as he backs away from me.
