Page 16 of Gatling
I ushered Kelsie into my cabin and flicked on the lights. Compared to her sunny, colorful apartment, it must look drab and rustic. The furnishings were a sparse collection of odds and ends I’d gathered or crafted myself over the years.
The slab of a kitchen table had been carved from a fallen oak I encountered during a hike years ago.
The couch was scratchy and rough, looking like it had time-traveled from the 1960s to wind up in my living room.
The bedroom was plain, unadorned, with a mattress shoved into one corner, a closet, and a chest of drawers that I didn’t even use.
Unlike Kelsie’s apartment, where her personality and optimism were splashed everywhere, I didn’t personalize my living space. There were no pictures, no decor of any kind. A generic, grumpy old bachelor’s hideout, away from the world.
I didn’t like putting my life on display. For one thing, people can glean too much information to be used against you. For another thing, I made it a habit to never put down roots. If I had to pack up and leave at a moment’s notice for any reason, I could fit my entire life in a duffel bag or a backpack easily. A consequence of finding nowhere to belong in this world is thathaving a homeis a foreign concept.
“It’s not cozy,” I said. “But the roof keeps you dry when it rains. And the fireplace keeps you warm when it snows.”
As Kelsie surveyed the cabin, I found myself…waiting. Wondering what she would think.
Usually, I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of me. The Blackjacks had plenty of snarky remarks to say about my hermit lifestyle, but I didn’t pay much attention to it, even when a few of them pissed me off.
Where Kelsie was concerned though, I wanted her good opinion. I wanted to hear what she had to say. Did she hate it? Was she disgusted with the rough hewn floors, grimy from years of tracking mud in on my boots? Would she take one look at my cabin and demand to be taken back to town, spending the night in a hotel instead?
Kelsie reached out and traced a knot in the wood, smoothing her hand over the wall.
“I was always jealous that you invited Noah out here, but not me. It suits you.”
I smothered the small spark of heat in my chest at her words.
“Didn’t think you would like it,” I replied. “It’s rough. And there’s no air conditioning.”
She shrugged, rubbing her arms. She was still shivering and frazzled.
“It’s your home though. It’s part of you.”
I huffed a dry laugh and closed the door behind us.
“It’s just a place I sleep for the night sometimes. I’d hardly call it a home. Why don’t you take a shower? Might help with the shock if you soak for a while.”
Kelsie nodded. I guided her through the bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom, turning on the water. Tested the temperature.
“Towels are under the sink,” I said. “The water heater is finicky, so if you take longer than twenty minutes, it gets colder than the arctic.”
Kelsie nodded again, turning her gray eyes up to me. Fuck, she looked so goddamn scared and confused, bewildered at how quickly everything had gone sideways.
It didn’t surprise me though. I’d seen what men were capable of doing to each other. The horrific pain they could inflict on another human being. The heartless acts they could commit against their own flesh and blood.
Kelsie had hoped her stalker was simply a nuisance who would go away if he was ignored.
But the bastard had escalated. Fast.
“I’ll be in the other room if you need me,” I said. “And when you’re done, call Noah.”
She lowered her lashes, shielding her gaze, and lightly curled her fingers around my forearm.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
A lump formed in my throat at her soft tone, and my skin burned where the pressure points of her fingertips touched my bare skin. Fuck, I had to find a way to kill and bury this goddamn yearning for my best friend’s little sister. Especially when we would be living under the same roof. I couldn’t keep torturing myself like this.
Forcing myself to move away, I cleared my throat.
“Don’t mention it.”
