The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection (8 page)

“I’m not capable of it,” she said, her throat tight.

Though she hadn’t meant to, she was getting dangerously close to the truth.
 

Then his hands were on her arms and as he turned her around he brushed the hair from her shoulder. Her hands flew up in defense as terror welled in her chest.

“Don’t touch my hair,” she barked.

He immediately held his hands up and stepped back. As shocked and confused as his expression was, it couldn’t be more than the confusion
she
felt. She put her hands on her chest.

Why did I say that?

She had no idea but the feeling of terror remained as she struggled to push it down.

“Emily, I love you,” he finally said. “And I know you love me. Just…just give us a chance.”

He wasn’t going to give up. She felt as though something inside her was ripping, tearing her down the middle. The look on his face was so…so… She had to end it.

“And you know that how?” she said. “At the grand old age of nineteen, you know that how?”

His back stiffened and his mouth opened.

Tears began to sting her eyes and she turned her back to him.

“Please leave,” she said.

“I know you don’t mean that,” he said, his voice wavering. “Emily, please don’t do this.”

“Do I have to explain it to you like I would a child?” she snapped, still not looking at him.

At that, she was met with silence. Finally, she heard his heavy footfalls cross the room. The door opened and it closed and she was alone.

• • • • •

The freezing night hadn’t helped to cool him off. Austin slammed the shed door and threw the bolt.
Then he ripped off his parka and hurled it into the wall.

What had happened?

“
God!
” he said, as his hands went to his head.

He paced and gripped his own hair as though that’d help him think.

What had
happened?

Everything had been going so great.
She
had been great. The
igloo
had been great. They were great together.

Weren’t they?

He lowered his hands and shook his head.

“Damnit!”

He kicked the end of the weight bench and heard metal grind on metal as it moved.
 

“Damnit!” he screamed.

Suddenly, he grabbed the barbells, heaved them over his head, and slammed them into the ground. Then came the dumbbells, a weight rack, and anything else that he could find–the heavier, the better. One thing after another hit the floor, collided with the wall, or just sailed out of view. He was gasping now but still he couldn’t stop. He upended the weight bench and shoved it to the wall. He pounded the cushioned seat with his fists until he heard it crack. Then he whirled and saw the barbells again.

“The grand old age of nineteen,” he said, his chest heaving as he picked them up again.

He held them up high as he heard her voice in his head.

Explain like I would a child.

He slammed them down and a metal ping came from one end as one of the plates detached and rolled away.

He glared at it but only saw her face.

She loved him. He felt it.
He knew it.

Didn’t he?

He found himself in front of the workbench as he swept everything from its surface. His breath was coming in pants as he gripped the edges of the flat top.

The truth was he didn’t
really
know if she loved him. Because, if he’d never even had a girlfriend, how could he?

He leaned down over the bench and started to lift.

Did he
not
know love?

Was she right?

He let the bench drop and put his elbows down on it heavily. Then his head fell into his hands and he closed his eyes. His mouth hung open, trying to get enough air, as the fire inside him finally began to fade. Even as it did, one question kept blazing through his mind.

What had happened?

• • • • •

Emily ran as fast as her little legs could carry her but her father was always faster. She could hear his footsteps pounding in the corridor behind her. Then, he caught her dress. She heard fabric ripping.

“No!” she wailed as she slipped on the polished wood floor and went down in a heap.

“I told you not to play in the kitchen!” he screamed.

One hand gripped her upper arm and flipped her over on the ground. The other flashed out with a smart crack on the side of her face.

“I’m sorry,” she screamed. She held her forearms in front of her face. “I won’t do it again.”

He tried to slap her but her arms got in the way.

“I promise,” she wailed. “I’m sorry!”

“Not yet you’re not,” he growled.

He yanked her off the floor and threw her over his shoulder.

“That’s it young lady,” he said as he stomped up the corridor and turned to the stairs. “You’re going to get a spanking.”

He started to march up the stairs.

Emily thrashed. She didn’t care if she fell, if they both fell. It’d be better than what was about to happen in the bedroom.

“No!” she screamed.

Suddenly, Emily sat up in bed.

“No!” she yelled again but quickly covered her mouth with both hands.

The room was dim.

Where am I?

She didn’t recognize the bed but, on the other side of the large room, she could make out dark forms–a coffee table, a couch, and her suitcase. She was traveling. This was the B&B. She was in Alaska.

She sagged forward with relief, breathing hard through her nose. She realized her hands were still over her mouth and let them fall.

Always the same–never a moment longer. They were always at the top of the stairs. She shook her head, brought a pillow to her stomach, and hugged it. Something bad had happened in the bedroom. At school the next day, it was her math teacher who had noticed her cracked lip and the bruise on her upper arm. The system had taken over from there and she was placed in foster care. Her mother had only been dead for a few months.

Try to remember, she thought. Try to remember! Whatever had happened in there, she had to know because the unknown had started to have a terror all its own.

She looked down at the empty space beside her on the bed. Unbidden, an image of Austin flashed into her mind. He was smiling.

She clutched the pillow hard as a pain stabbed in her chest.

“Austin,” she whispered as her eyes filled with tears.

She had pushed him away, like all the others. Except, he wasn’t like all the others and she knew it.
 

But she had done it to spare him pain later–not her, him.

She shook her head as the tears started to slip down her cheeks.

She’d cried herself to sleep thinking of him. Now, the moment she was awake, she was doing the same thing.

He had confessed his
love
.

“Just give us a chance,” he had begged.

She sobbed now in great shuddering waves, covering her face with her hands.

The pain in his face.

She couldn’t get that last image of him out of her head.
 

Only yesterday he had saved her life. Then she’d risked hers to save him. How could she have thrown that away?

She shouldn’t have.
 

Her breath caught in her throat at the thought. It had been the
wrong
thing to do. Everything in her was saying it was a mistake–a huge one.

“Oh god,” she muttered.

She was wavering and she knew it. One part of her saw the familiar path that this would have to take but the other part couldn’t help but hope.

She tried to get a hold of herself as she sniffed. She wiped her eyes and looked at the alarm clock. Three a.m. It’d be hours before there’d be anyone who could tell her where he lived.

She reached out to the lamp on the nightstand and turned it on. Her eyes blinked but quickly landed on his sealskin clothes. He hadn’t taken them. There had hardly been time.

She slipped out of bed, gathered his clothes up and then quickly got back under the covers. Again, she inhaled the sealskin’s oily scent and for a split second, she thought she heard his voice–saying her name.
 

Slowly, she laid down and curled herself into a ball, as she hugged his clothes to her chest.

“Austin,” she whispered.

In the morning, maybe she’d see things differently. In the bright light of day, she might come to her senses and really let him go. But as she buried her face in the clothing, she already knew what she needed to do.

Austin’s father was a bear of a man. That’s the only word that came to Emily’s mind.

“Come in,” he said, holding the front door for her, though he didn’t step back.

She almost had to turn sideways to get by him. She held the sealskin clothes in front of her and between them.

“Thank you,” she said as she passed.

He smiled at her. One of his eyeteeth was missing and the rest were a dull brown. His long black hair hung in greasy, shining strings.

She did her best to smile in return.

“I’m Karlin,” he said, closing the door and locking it behind him. He held out his hand

“Emily,” she said, taking it.

They shook but he used a regular handshake that completely covered her hand and he squeezed too hard. Then, he held on for a few seconds longer than he should have. He was staring at her.

It was something she’d gotten used to over time but the strange twist to his upper lip was disquieting. She tried to maintain her smile and started to withdraw her hand but he didn’t let go.

This was the awkward part. It didn’t happen often but it had happened enough that she immediately said her practiced line.

“I’m going to need that hand,” she quipped and looked down at it.

But he didn’t let go.

Emily blinked and gave her hand a little tug.

“What’s your hurry?” Karlin said, stepping closer.

He wasn’t bothering to hide his leer. She tried to take a step back but her boot landed on an empty beer can, startling her.

“Be careful,” Karlin said, still holding her hand and now her elbow. “Wouldn’t want to fall.”

“Where did you say Austin was?” she said, as she tried to shrug off his hands.

“I didn’t,” he said. “He’s not here.”

Alarm started to build in her chest.

“He’s
not
?”

“Yes, I am,” came a voice from the other side of the room.

Emily whipped her head around.

Austin!

“Let her go,” Austin said, biting off each word.

Emily stared at him. She had never seen Austin like this. His stance was tense and he held his head low, glowering from under dark eyebrows. If it was possible, his back and shoulders appeared even more broad and his arms hung in curves just in front of him. In one hand, he held a screwdriver.

“Now,” he said.

Emily felt the grip on her arm and hand release and she quickly stepped over to Austin and then behind him.

“There you are, boy,” said Karlin, feigning surprise and not doing it well. “When did you get back?”

“Emily,” Austin said, without looking at her. “I’ll see you out back. The door is behind you, through the kitchen.”

Emily glanced at Karlin, who was now looking at the screwdriver and grinning.

“Emily,” Austin said, a warning tone in his voice.

She turned and quickly went through the kitchen and down a few steps into the mud.

• • • • •

Austin heard her footsteps retreating but never took his eyes off his father’s face.

“So,” Karlin said, smirking. “The boy becomes a man.”

“If you ever touch her again,” Austin ground out from his clenched jaw. “You’ll regret it.”

Karlin laughed, genuinely amused.

“Out on the ice,” he finally sneered. “Yeah, I’d be out on the ice too for a nice piece of–”

Austin took a sudden step forward and raised the screwdriver.

Karlin’s eyes narrowed and he hunkered down.

“Try it,” he said.

Now it was Austin’s turn to smile. He had the advantage and he knew it.

Karlin’s face screwed up in rage. He knew it too. Finally, he stood up and put his hands in his pockets, glaring.

Austin turned on his heel, was through the kitchen in seconds, and slammed the door behind him.

• • • • •

After what seemed like an eternity, Austin finally appeared in the doorway. Then he slammed the door and stormed past, not even looking at her.

“Austin, I–”

He yanked open the shed door.

“Hurry,” he said. “In here.”

But he still wouldn’t look at her.

Quickly, she did as he said. As she turned around, he was already closing and barring the door. But she didn’t wonder at it, now that she’d seen Karlin.
That
was his father?

“You shouldn’t have come,” he said.

She winced. His voice was forced and harsh.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

He looked at the ground between them.

She held out the sealskin clothes, though she’d rumpled them badly as she’d clutched them to her chest.

“I wanted to bring these,” she said.

He nodded.
 

“You can leave them on the work bench,” he said, indicating with his head.

She did that and then rested her hand on them. Then she took a deep breath and turned to him.

“Austin,” she started, but he had turned away and was opening the door.

“No, please,” she said quickly. “Please, Austin. Don’t make me go.”

The door was already open but he turned to her and finally looked at her.

“Don’t make
you
go?” he said, anger and hurt in his voice.

She wanted to run to him, to take away that pain, but his body language was closed and he simply looked at her.

“I’m so sorry for what I said last night,” she said, rushing, trying to get it all out before he made her leave. “I didn’t want to do that. I
want
us to be together. I…I just don’t know how.”

She watched his face. As easy as he’d been to read in the igloo, she hadn’t a clue about what he was thinking now. He’d been an open book then. And now, she might have ruined that.