Chapter 3: The Opposite of Love's Indifference
She heard pounding in her ears, surrounding her, the sound of water hitting metal above her. She tried to move when pain seared through her, unable to move her arms. She felt something heavy against her hip. She pried her eyes open, trying to focus on anything around her. She peered through heavy crust-filled lids, darkness surrounding her from all sides. She felt something move at her hand, and then something wet and warm slide up her arm. She tried to move her arm and winced in pain.
She groaned loudly and was met with a warm nose that nuzzled into her face. She squinted to see a dog's face peering at her.
"Hey…" she said hoarsely, trying to remember the name of the dog. Did she have a dog?
Looking around the room, she could make out shapes, wooden siding. It was dark outside. She could see rain pounding against the pane of the window. She was covered by some sort of patch work quilt. Nothing seemed familiar to her. Looking down she was dressed in a flannel shirt, it was big on her, she could tell as she tried to move that it got caught against her body, the excess fabric tangled against her mid-section.
She tried to move her right hand, but the pain caused her to squeak. She was able to raise her left one to her face, she had scratches and bloody marks on her knuckles. It looked like she had been in a fight.
My God did she fight someone? This wasn't her room. Or was it? She tried to think, remember her room. It was all black, swirling in her brain, almost like she could touch the memory but as soon as it started to come into view it would dissolve into a haze.
Think… She tried to talk to herself and was met with oblivion. What the hell was her name?
She heard a noise in the other room, just outside the door that was cracked open, letting in the moonlight just enough to see movement. The dog sat up on the bed and she squeezed her eyes shut, lying still.
The door slid open with a mournful creak, a noise that gave her goosebumps until she heard footsteps and her blood ran cold.
"Hey Jolly, everything ok in here?"
The voice spoke, an accent, she didn't recognize the voice. She didn't know anyone with an accent. Did she? Dammit why couldn't she remember anything?
She felt something make contact with her arm and tried not to flinch. A hand, rough and calloused touched her forehead. "She's feeling a bit too warm, boy. That's not good. Dammit." Hard footsteps pounded out of the room and her eyes popped open, looking around nervously. She needed to get out of bed before he came back.
She bit her lip as she pushed herself to a seated position with the hand that wasn't causing her to cry out. The dog next to her jumped off the bed, running over to where she was trying to stand up. "Shh." She whispered as he started to bark. "Quiet." She held on to the bed and tentatively stepped down with her feet, wincing and dropping to her knees as the pain shot up her leg. She could hear noise in the other room. She crawled with a pained expression to the corner of the room, curling into a ball.
The dog ran to her, sniffing her face and licking her cheek. "Please…" She pleaded. She gripped the dresser next to her and dragged herself to her feet, grabbing a small pot sitting next to her and lifted it above her head with her arm. She was getting dizzy, her vision blurring. Not now!
Suddenly the door opened again and a man with dark hair stopped short, staring at the bed with wide eyes. Emma lunged toward him, falling over as the pot made contact with his shoulder and he grunted, before reaching out and wrapping his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet and hoisting her to his shoulder. She pounded her fist against his back. "Put me down."
"Gladly." He said angrily as he tossed her back on the bed. "Bloody hell, woman, what are you trying to do?"
"Get away from me." She screamed, scrambling to the top of the bed, and curling herself around the dog that was sitting next to her.
"Would you relax." He stood upright, putting his hands on his hips. "You're tearing all the bandages I just changed for you."
She looked down at her arm, the material hanging from the limb that was starting to go numb. "Who are you?"
He put his hands up in front of him. "Just calm down. My names Killian, I found you yesterday. I'm just trying to help."
"Found me. More like kidnapped me." She screamed.
"Kidnapped you?" He barked incredulously. "You think I kidnapped you? Look I have no idea what happened to you, love, but it wasn't me that did it." He sighed.
"I'm not your love, you sick psycho."
"Oh, I'm not in the mood for this." He turned his back to her, pacing the room beside the bed. "I knew I should have left you out there. Good deeds only get you grief." He ran his hand through his hair and stopped pacing.
"Just let me go, I won't tell anyone."
"Bloody hell woman, are you listening to me? I didn't take you. I have no idea how you got here and trust me; I'd love to let you the hell out of here, but in case you didn't notice…" He pointed angrily to the window. "We're in the middle of a goddamned storm. The roads are already washed out. Even if I wanted to, and trust me woman, I want to, I couldn't get you in to town."
"You're lying."
"I don't lie, love. It's the truth. But feel free to start walking if you want to be that persistent. I'm hours from the closest town."
"You're going to murder me, aren't you?"
"Oh for…" The man turned away and stormed toward the door. She peered from her spot on the bed into the other room until she saw him walking toward her. He had a shotgun. She held her hands over her face.
"Please don't shoot me."
He exhaled loudly. "I'm not going to shoot you." He shoved the gun into her hands and stepped back with his hands in the air. "My name is Killian Jones. I am just as aggravated as you are by your presence. I live out in this god forsaken cabin, alone…" He said loudly. "I found you yesterday floating in the damn creek and brought you back here because you were injured." He leaned against the wall. "If you want to shoot me, please go ahead…it's not the worst you could do."
Her hands shook as she tried to hold the shotgun in her hand, it was heavy, and she wasn't able to lift it with only one working appendage. She dropped it onto the bed with a groan.
"Where are we?" She said quietly.
"Specifically? Off the grid, but we're in Maine."
"Maine?" She shook her head trying to remember why she was in Maine. Did she live in Maine? That didn't feel right.
"Can you tell me your name, Lass?"
Her eyes looked around the room, she had a headache the longer she tried to access the part of her brain that told her the answer to his question. Dammit, it was a simple question. Why couldn't she remember? "I…"
He started to move from the wall, and she flinched. He stood in place again and held a hand out in front of him. "Sorry, your name?"
"I don't know." She whispered. "I don't remember."
"Bloody hell."
Killian stared at the woman, cowering on his bed with a shot gun sitting beside her and his bloody dog protecting her. The woman had no idea who she was. This was not what he needed right now!
"What do you mean you don't know?" He growled, tugging on the tendrils of his hair in frustration.
"I just…I can't remember my name."
"How'd you get out here?"
"If I can't remember my name, why do you think I would remember how I got here?" She said angrily, a tear falling onto her cheek that she quickly reached up to swipe away. She looked down at her clothes. "Was I wearing this?" Her face scrunched up in something resembling disgust or distaste which immediately offended him.
"Hey, it was better than what I found you in!"
She narrowed her eyes. "You undressed me?"
"Trust me woman, you weren't exactly dressed." He dug around in the drawer beside the bed, grabbing the black material he found her in and tossed it onto the bed beside her.
Her eyes widened. "I was wearing that?"
"Would you prefer to be wearing it now because I can take back my clothes if they don't please you, princess."
"I didn't say I hated them, it's just not something I would wear."
"How would you know; you don't even know who you are, much less what the bloody hell you would wear!" He yelled, stopping short, and staring at the woman. "You're being ridiculous." He spat.
"I'm being ridiculous?" She stuttered, her eyes fluttering open and closed.
"Aye." He said simply, turning, and walking out of the room.
As soon as he got to the couch, he stood in the middle of the room trying to catch his breath. Why couldn't she just go back to sleep, the woman was infuriating. What the hell was he supposed to do with a woman he pulled out of the bloody river, with no memory of who she was or where she came from, in the middle of a goddamned storm?
He heard the woman cry out from the other room. "Bloody hell." He pushed the door open to his bedroom again and saw the woman sitting on the floor next to the bed, holding her leg.
"Jesus woman, you shouldn't be walking on that leg."
"Don't tell me what to do."
"Are you always this stubborn or is this something you've picked up recently?"
She frowned. "I…"
"Apologizes, Lass, I'm sure this is confusing for you."
"I just want to go home." She cried and Killian tried to push down the feeling of sorrow he felt for the woman.
"Well, until we figure out where that is, I'm sure you're starving, you do eat right?" She shrugged. "Can I make you some food, maybe?"
"I don't know." She sobbed.
"Hey, look, I'm not good with crying women. Honestly haven't a clue what I'm 'spose to do at this point. How about you get back in the bed and I'll make you something and we'll go from there?" She sniffled beside him, he turned his head to glance at her, her hair still dirty from the creek bed. He coughed into his hand and then stood, reaching down tentatively to lift her back into the bed.
"Jolly will keep you company until I return." He patted the dog on the head and left the room. Standing at the kitchen counter he stared out at the darkened skies, full sheets of rain slamming against the tin roof above him. They were going to be in for a long couple of days.
"Shit." He swore. What the hell was he going to do now? What if someone came looking for this woman who now had no idea who the hell she was? He couldn't just drop her in town now, who would believe a thing he said.
Digging through his food, he grabbed bread and a few slices of cheese. Who didn't like grilled cheese?
He went about making food for them both, his stomach was growling though he wasn't sure if it was from pure adrenaline of the past few moments or because he realized he hadn't eaten since he found the woman. Either way he was suddenly famished.
He sat the sandwich on a plate with a plank of wood and a glass of water and carried it back to the room. He sat it on her lap and gestured for her to eat before turning to leave the room.
"You're just going to leave me here to eat alone."
He paused at the door, his shoulders sagging before he walked out of the room, grabbed his plate and stood in the doorway. Begrudgingly, he took a bite of his sandwich and caught the woman's eye as she tentatively touched her food with her fingers. He took another bite as she brought the food to her mouth and slipped the food between her lips.
She paused and then chewed her food as if she were thinking about it. Tasting it for the first time.
"That's good." She said between bites.
"Yeah well it's the go-to food of a four-year-old."
She glared at him for a moment before taking another bite. "Where's your kid then?"
"Excuse me?" He tensed.
"I figured you had a four-year-old." She held up the sandwich.
"Well, I don't." He said sourly and walked back out of the room. Tossing his plate in the sink as he shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth.
He sat down on the couch, staring at the fire stirring in the hearth in front of him, a sad frown encompassing his face.
"Excuse me."
He groaned at the sound of her voice. God he just wanted to be alone. "What can I help you with, your highness." He said sourly.
"My leg hurts."
He groaned and pulled himself from his spot and stood in the doorway. "Yeah, I think it's dislocated. I was waiting for you to wake up so I could pop it back in."
"Will that make it stop hurting?"
"Might lessen the pain, yes. But…"
"But what?"
"But you aren't going to like it, love." He shrugged.
Emma stared at the man in the doorway, she didn't care what it was going to take, she just wanted the pain in her leg to stop. "Just do it, I can't handle this anymore."
"As you wish." He turned and walked away from her, back into the other part of the house.
"Hey, where are you going?" She yelled, trying to crane her neck to watch where he was going. He returned with a bottle and two glasses. He sat the glasses on the drawer and poured a hefty amount into both.
"What the hell is this?" She stared at him before gasping. "Is this where you get me drunk and rape me?"
He rolled his eyes. "Try something new love, it's called trust."
"I don't even know you."
"How do you know that? You have no idea who you are!" He bit his lip and handed her the glass. "Drink up, love."
"Why am I drinking this?"
"Because normally a doctor would give you some hefty drugs for this procedure, and in case you didn't notice, we're in the middle of nowhere. So…" He put the glass into her hand and wrapped her fingers around it. "You're gonna wanna numb the pain."
She gulped and held the glass to her lips, smelling the strong scent that hit her nose. "What is this?"
"Rum, and a bloody waste of it, if you ask me."
She took a sip and felt the burning liquid trail down her throat as she choked. "Oh God."
"Good girl." He smirked.
"If I'm drinking to numb the pain, what the hell are you drinking for?" She asked as he tipped the glass back and swallowed everything the glass held.
"Well, I've never done this before. Need to calm my nerves." He tilted his head and shrugged his shoulders. "Keep drinking, Lass."
She titled the glass back, draining it of its liquid and swallowing the burning drink until the glass was empty. He filled her glass again and she stared at him wide eyed as she tipped it back and continued to drink. When her head started to spin he took the glass from her hand, held it to his lips and finished what was left there.
"Alright, love, lie back." Her head was heavy and her vision blurry as she lay back on the pillow. He walked over to the dresser, reached in the drawer, and pulled something from it. Turning around she saw he was holding a leather belt in his hands. "Ok put this in your mouth."
"What?" She exclaimed. "Why?"
"To bite down on. This is going to hurt."
She took it from him, staring at it in her hands wondering how any of this had happened. His hands were on her waist, pulling her pants from her body and she pushed away from him. "What the hell!"
"Look, I can't do this with your pants on. I need to be able to see your leg." He stared at her with a look of annoyance on her face. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, love."
"Hey! That doesn't mean I want you staring at me now."
"I'm going to be staring at your leg. This isn't on my top 10 list of things to do either."
"Fine!" She relaxed onto the bed, letting him pull the pants from her legs, ignoring the cold breeze running across her lower half that made her realize that she was naked underneath the pants she was wearing. He paused, leaning over to grab a blanket from the corner of the room and draping it over her lower half, leaving only her leg exposed. "Thank you."
"Ok, bite down." He warned, running his hand up her leg.
"You said you've never done anything like this before."
"I've seen it done, but…look just bite down, please." He was agitated with her and she put the leather in her mouth and bit down. His hand ran up her leg, she didn't feel the pain as badly as she had before the rum, but she knew the pain was about to come.
She wasn't wrong. The moment she heard the click, she felt like electricity blinded her as it ran up her leg and the pain burned into her entire body. She tried to keep her eyes open, staring at the man who was now watching her with an intensity that unsettled her. Blue eyes swirling in her vision until they went to black.