Promise Me Darkness (36 page)

It was the end of September and still hot. My threadbare shorts were now hanging off of my body and my t–shirt had seen better days. I had lost weight over the past few weeks but what did a person expect when we lived off of canned goods, wild game, and the occasional vegetable from the garden?

I wasn’t feeling too well that morning so I was determined to stay behind. I thought that I was getting a cold because the nights had turned chilly despite the warm daytime temperatures.

“I don’t want to go,” I whined. I know I sounded childish but my stomach was churning and I didn’t want to go traipsing through the woods. I refused to tell Ryder that I was sick. If he could become so cold and distant toward me, I could keep a simple thing such as a little stomachache from him.

“You’re going. We’re getting low on meat and you need to know how to kill and skin an animal,” he insisted as he loaded a rifle with bullets. He laid it down on the kitchen table and started loading a second rifle.

I watched his long fingers work effortlessly for a second before my gaze traveled up his trim body. He had also lost weight over the last couple of weeks, becoming leaner and harder. My mouth watered as his muscles flexed beneath his tan shirt and worn jeans. The ever–present baseball cap shielded his eyes and left his unshaven jaw bare, begging to be caressed.

“I’m not killing anything,” I said stubbornly, ignoring the heat rushing through my body.

“If something ever happened to me, you need to know how to survive,” he said, finally looking at me. "That means killing something."

I squirmed under his gaze. “Don’t say that, Ryder. Nothing will ever happen to you.”

He stayed quiet, refusing to argue further with me. Crossing his arms over his chest, his icy stare drilled into me, breaking my resistance to mere pieces.

~~~~

The woods were shaded and silent as we crept through them. I followed Ryder closely, my stomach churning the whole time. I tried to focus on the hunt but it was impossible to do with the way I felt.

After about half an hour, I tried to shoot a squirrel but missed (which I was secretly thankful for). An hour after that, Ryder shot a good–sized buck, sending it to the ground with only one shot. The wind blew dead leaves around the animal’s body while sunlight peeked through the canopy of branches above us, spotlighting his kill. As my eyes ran over the deer, my stomach churned in protest.

Ryder pulled a large hunting knife from his jean’s pocket and kneeled down next to the deer.

“I’ve got to gut it before we take it back.”

I averted my eyes when he placed the tip of the knife near the deer’s lower abdomen.

“Maddie?”

I turned away, wrapping my arms around my middle in comfort.

“I can’t, Ryder,” I said, barely able to get the words out.

“Okay. We’ll work up to the field dressing later. Just don’t look.”

I soon realized that having my back turned didn’t help. First, I heard a cutting sound and then an awful smell hit me. I covered my mouth, fighting the nausea but it was too powerful to ignore.

“Oh, no!” I cried, running over to a fallen log and losing my breakfast in the dirt and leaves.

“Maddie? Are you okay?”

I shook my head as another wave of nausea hit me.

“Shit!” Ryder said, distressed. Within a second, he was kneeling beside me in the dirt.

For the first time in weeks, he touched me. His warm hand rested on my back for a second before disappearing.

“Take a drink.”

I felt weak and shaky as I took the water he offered. Taking a long drink didn’t help much but it did make my raw throat feel better.

“I’m sorry I made you do this, Maddie. Let’s just head back,” he said, helping me to my feet.

“No, you stay. I’ll go.”

He shook his head, staring down at me coolly.

“I have a gun and it’s a short walk. I’ll be fine,” I said.

When he opened his mouth to argue, I added, “We need that meat, Ryder.” No longer did I have an appetite but I knew that he was getting tired of eating meals that came from a can. Right now food was more important than my queasy stomach.

“Three shots in a row and I’ll come running, understand?” That was our signal for trouble — three gunshots, one right after the other.

I nodded. Leaning closer, he gathered my long hair in one hand. Taking off his baseball cap, he placed it on my head, tucking my hair underneath. I knew what he was doing. If any strangers wandered onto our land, they might see a woman alone as an easy target. With my long hair hidden beneath a hat, I appeared as only a boy from a distance, keeping me safe.

Ryder was standing so close that I could smell him. Something woodsy, sexy. Something that spoke to my insides, making them come alive. Glancing down at my lips, his hands lingered on the back of my nape. His fingers lightly brushed across my skin, burning me. My heart jumped when his eyes met mine again. Gone was the coldness. Now hunger blazed from his eyes, leaving me spellbound.

A split second later, I watched as a blanket came down, hiding his emotions. His whiskered jaw clenched before he turned away.

“I’ll be there shortly,” he said over his shoulder, returning to the deer.

As I walked home, I tried to pay attention to my surroundings but my mind was on Ryder. I ached for him still.

We were living in the same house, we were together twenty–four hours a day, seven days a week but I missed him with all my being.

~~~~

By the time I made it home, I was feeling sick again. Pulling out some homemade bread that Janice made, I took a few small bites, hoping it would help settle my stomach. Instead, the nausea became worse. Suddenly feeling weak and sick, I plopped down in a kitchen chair. Closing my eyes and resting my head in my hands, I tried to push the queasiness away.

Knowing I couldn’t hold it down any longer, I ran outside. In what had to be an all–time fastest record, I crossed the porch and made it to the edge of the grass before my stomach emptied its contents for the third time that morning.

My body shook violently, sending chills through me.
Did I have a stomach bug? The flu?
I hadn’t felt good for a couple of weeks but the nausea had just started.

Suddenly, all the blood drained from my face. Pushing myself to my feet, I feebly made my way back into the house. Going through the kitchen, I hurried into the extra bedroom where a small desk stood against a stark white wall.

Pulling open the top drawer, I yanked out the Sports Illustrated calendar that Ryder always kept there. Ignoring the blonde smiling back at me from the month of August, I ran a shaky finger over the dates. My heart started pumping wildly in my chest.

I was over a month late.

I was pregnant.

“Maddie?” Ryder yelled.

The back door slam shut, echoing throughout the house. I lay in bed, curled on my side, trying to come to terms with the fact that I was pregnant.

Fright flowed through me, making the nausea return.
What was he going to say?
He didn’t want a relationship and I didn’t want to push him into having one because of a baby. Without question, I wanted this child but how could I tell him when he didn’t love me? And how would we bring a baby into this Godforsaken world?

“Shit, you scared me!” he said, stopping in the bedroom doorway to glare my direction.

I pushed myself into a sitting position and met his stare. He looked rugged in his worn jeans and the cotton shirt that hugged his body perfectly. His light brown hair was in desperate need of a haircut but looked sexy as hell, curling around his ears and neck.

“You didn’t answer me,” he snapped, walking over to the edge of the bed and frowning down at me. His cutting blue eyes were cold as they traveled over my body. “You look like hell. Still feeling bad?”

“I’m just tired.”

I swung my legs over the side of the bed near him, determined to pretend as if nothing was wrong. It was time to change the subject. Quick.

“Did you finish with the deer?”

“Yeah, the meat’s in the smokehouse now.” He scrutinized me closely. “You sure you’re okay?”

Oh, hell!
He knew me too well to know when I was lying but I wasn’t ready to tell him the truth yet.

“I’m fine, Ryder.”

I know he didn’t believed me but he accepted my answer and left without another word.

Heaviness settled over me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him yet. By my guess, I wouldn’t show for a few months yet. By then, maybe I could come to terms with the fact that I might be having his baby but I didn’t have his love.

~~~~

While the sun slowly set outside, we were inside, eating a dinner consisting of deer meat and canned vegetables. Neither of us spoke, the tension stretching between us like a tightly pulled string ready to break at any moment. Ryder seemed distant and withdrawn, more than usual tonight.

I pushed food around my plate, anger replacing any hunger I had. I needed him now more than ever. I was pregnant and I was scared. But I was also tired of playing his games. Ryder either wanted me or he didn’t. The mixed messages he was sending me were annoying. And I was tired of living in this house with him as if we were two complete strangers.

“Eat, Maddie.”

I jumped as Ryder’s deep voice boomed from across the table. Glancing up, I caught him staring hard at me, waiting for me to take a bite.

“No,” I said, glaring back at him in defiance.

His lips thinned. “You can’t survive if you won’t eat and I’ll be damned if you die on me.”

“I’m not hungry.”

He sat his fork down quietly despite the anger ready to explode from him.

“I don’t give a damn if you are hungry or not. I said to eat!”

I cocked an eyebrow at him.

“And I said, no.”

Suddenly, he was beside me, yanking me out of my chair. His hands were hard on me. His eyes were full of heat, either from anger or need, I do not know. My breath caught in my throat when his hands started traveling slowly up my sides.

“I can count every rib on your body, Maddie,” he whispered huskily as his fingers slowly spread wide, caressing me. I felt my body come alive from his touch.

Leaning down, his lips brushed against my ear. “Now eat, Maddie.”

The deep vibration of his voice was still moving through me when he stepped away, sitting down again and giving me a challenging look. It was then that I knew he won.

“You’re an ass, Ryder,” I said, flopping down in my seat with irritation. Picking up my fork, I took a bite of green beans, not really tasting them.

A look of satisfaction spread across his face as he picked up his fork.

Damn him! One touch and I became putty in his hands.
But maybe, just maybe, I was the one who won.

~~~~

By the time we were finished eating, the wind had picked up, rattling the windows throughout the house. Large, black clouds were gathering off to the West, moving quickly in the darkening sky.

Ryder was cleaning his rifle at the table silently, acting detached and unapproachable. The moment of closeness we had earlier was gone, as if it never happened.

My heart ached. Despite the late hour, I decided a bath was just what I needed. I needed to clear my head and be alone. Maybe then, I would feel better afterward. Without speaking, I left to get a towel and soap from the bathroom.

Walking back through the kitchen, I was almost out the door when his voice stopped me.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to take a bath before it gets dark,” I answered, watching him clean the stock of his gun.

“A storm’s coming,” he said without looking at me.

I didn’t respond. What was I supposed to say?
Yes, Ryder, I know a storm’s coming but I have to get away from you?

As I stepped out into the cool evening air, I wondered why I was here. He wanted me with him but he was annoyed by my presence.
Why keep me around?

The water was cold so I took a quick bath. By the time I got out, the sun had disappeared on the horizon, leaving the land dark. The storm was still rumbling overhead, promising to be a powerful one.

I was dripping wet and cold when the strong wind hit me. Clutching the towel around my body, I ran for the house. The wind pushed me inside forcefully. Candlelight illuminated the kitchen, casting a soft glow over the entire room.

Ryder was lounging in a kitchen chair with a shot glass in his hand. He threw back the whiskey before setting it next to a half–empty bottle of the same stuff.
This was the first time I had seen him drink in weeks.

I took a deep breath and skirted the table without acknowledging him. As I walked past, I felt his eyes on me, leaving heat behind in their trail.

In his room, I let out a breath of relief and dried off quickly. Hurrying to pull on one of his large shirts, I tried not to think of sleeping alone again tonight.

“Maddie,” a low, hoarse voice said from behind me.

I turned quickly, wondering how long he had been there. Standing in the bedroom doorway, his eyes raked down my bare legs. From there, his focus moved up my body to my lips, lingering there a moment before meeting my eyes. I felt hot and bothered as the temperature in the room shot up a notch with that one look.

Without breaking eye contact, he tossed back another drink. Like a big cat on the prowl, he slowly stalked into the room, keeping me in his sights. As he passed the dresser, he set the shot–glass down, never taking his eyes off me.

“Get in bed.”

My heart pounded as he towered over me. There was something raw and uncontrollable about him tonight that I had never seen. I knew I couldn’t resist this Ryder.

“Get in bed,” he repeated.

“Ryder, what you are doing?” I asked, standing my ground. “Are you drunk?”

“And what if I am?”

He took a step closer and my heart threatened to jump out of my chest.

“Then you need to back off,” I said with a hint of uncertainty.
Did I really want him to?

“You going to make me?” he asked with a smirk, taking another step closer.