Chapter Ten
When he came down the next morning, she was doing the dishes that they'd left in the sink the night before. He could tell by the tense set of her shoulders that she was angry, but when she turned and saw his bruised and scarred face, her expression softened. They looked at each other for a few seconds wordlessly, then she slowly turned back to the sink as he went over to the coffee maker.
As he lifted the pot, she seemed to remember something. "Oh, wait...that's from hours ago. I'll make some fresh."
"It's fine," he said shortly, pouring a mug.
"It's ice cold, Sawyer."
"I'll drink it."
"Would you stop being so stubborn?" she asked sharply. The tone of her voice surprised him. Before he could protest, she took the mug from him and poured the coffee down the sink. Annoyed, he sat down at the table to wait.
After she put on a fresh pot to brew, she went back to the dishes. They still hadn't said anything to each other about last night, and the silence was becoming tense.
Finally, she sighed deeply and seemed to steel herself for something. "I think I'm gonna go ahead and get out of your way. Tonight...after it gets dark." When he didn't answer, she turned to see how he was taking the news.
He stared down at the table, refusing to look at her. He'd expected something like this, but still...it felt like someone was crushing his heart in a winepress when he heard her say the words. She'd been in the house for less than a week, and already he couldn't imagine it without her.
"Sounds like you got it all planned out," he said, still not looking at her. "Word of advice though, kitten. You might want to steer clear of truck stops in the future - at least the kind that have security cameras." He looked up into her eyes at the last two words, and was somewhat gratified to see that she was startled.
"What? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Saw you on the news last night. You mighta left a little more of a trail comin' down here than you thought you did."
She was unnerved, but tried not to let him see it. "What city was it in?"
"I don't know...I couldn't hear it."
She turned back to the sink, slowly, making an effort to seem casual. "I'll keep that in mind."
He went on, knowing that he would hurt her but unable to stop himself. "Been wonderin' how you did it. Now it makes more sense. Not knowin' anyone or havin' any money...I guess those truckers are a girl's best friend, huh?" He watched her shoulders tense up again, but went on. "I just wonder what you had to offer 'em in return?"
She shot him a look filled with hatred. "Are you trying to make me sick?" With angry tears in her eyes, she continued. "I guess it's impossible for you to believe that some people do nice things without expecting anything in return." Looking at him pointedly, she was glad to see that the words hurt him. It was a low blow, but he'd started it.
He smiled bitterly and looked away. "All I can say is that you're lucky you're beautiful. Hate to think what it would be like to be an ugly fugitive on the run. Because coupled with your sunny personality, sweetheart, it'd make for one hell of a winning combination," he said sarcastically.
She glanced at him quickly. It had been couched in an insult, but the fact that he'd just called her beautiful didn't escape her notice. He realized it too, and was annoyed at himself.
When the coffee maker stopped brewing, they both started toward it and then stopped, awkwardly.
"I'll get it," Kate said. After she'd poured the mug, she sat it down on the table and then remained standing there in thought.
Sawyer sighed. "Look," he said wearily, as if it took a great effort to say what he was going to say. "Just so you know...I don't expect anything from you. You can stay here as long as you need to...I won't bother you anymore."
She closed her eyes for a second and said in a sad voice, "You weren't bothering me. It's not that." She looked at him, regretful. "Trying to live like this...it isn't fair to either one of us. I really think it'll be better... if I just go."
"And you think that's really a smart thing to do? You honestly think it's safe enough out there right now?"
"Of course it's not. It probably never will be. But I'm used to that."
"Don't you think it'd at least be better to wait until they stop plasterin' your face all over the news every night?"
She didn't answer. He was trying to wear her down when she'd already made up her mind. But although part of her was still determined to go, the rest of her was more than willing to let him convince her to stay.
"Besides," he went on as an idea came to him. "I got a project I need help with. Could use a woman's touch."
"What project?" she asked, intrigued in spite of herself.
"That room you're sleepin' in? You probably noticed the wallpaper's peelin' off, right?"
"Yeah," she replied. "So?"
"So...I been meanin' to tear it off...put up some more."
"You've been planning to re-wallpaper," she said incredulously.
"Yep."
"Since when?" She tried not to smile.
"As a matter of fact, I've wanted to do it for years. Just couldn't find the right opportunity," he said coyly.
"Hm," she said, clearly not believing him.
"It'll take a couple days...by the time it's done, it'll be safer to move on."
She sighed. She should have known he would do this. The funny thing was that she'd have been disappointed if he'd just let her go.
He could see her hesitating, so he went on. "And I promise I won't come near you, if that's what you're worried about. I'll just...think of you like you're my little sister."
She tried not to laugh. "No offense, Sawyer, but you're the last person in the world I'd want for a big brother."
"Too bad," he said with a grin. "So... what do you say?"
"All right," she said softly, giving in. "But just until it's done...then I'm gone."
"Deal."
They looked at each other sadly for a few seconds, wondering how the hell this was going to work. Neither one had any interest in acquiring a new sibling.
He kept his promise - a little too well, in fact. They managed to maintain an awkward distance during the rest of the day as they stripped the ancient wallpaper. Any time they threatened to resume their former intimacy, they managed somehow to head it off.
He went in to get wallpaper samples that evening and made her choose the pattern. The next day, Monday, he went back to buy the paper and they began to hang it. Both of them, perhaps unconsciously and perhaps not, made numerous mistakes and went as slow as possible so that the job would last longer. Still, it only took till Tuesday afternoon, but by then it was already late, and both agreed that it would be silly for Kate to leave that day.
On Wednesday morning, Sawyer suddenly remembered that he hadn't paid any bills or looked at his bank account or insurance information in months. Women were good at that kind of thing, right? Kate admitted that she did have a knack for numbers. But she would really be leaving tomorrow.
On Thursday, there were heavy thunderstorms. It would be stupid to go in that kind of weather. One more day couldn't hurt.
On Friday, Kate had a migraine.
Saturday morning, Sawyer prepared to go back to the grocery store again. He'd been buying things on short errand runs every few days, but now it was time for a more thorough re-stocking. He made Kate write out the list again. As she handed it to him, she tried not to look directly at him.
"Kinda short, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah, well...since I'm leaving tonight, it's basically just the stuff that you'll need for yourself."
He kept looking at her until he forced her to meet his eyes.
"Still...it's best to be prepared. Better add some more." He slid the list back over to her, watching her carefully.
"Sawyer," she sighed. Then, closing her eyes briefly, she paused. "All right. Just in case."
He watched her write, wondering if she would really go tonight or not. How many more delaying tactics could they come up with? They were bound to run out eventually. Their attempt at distance had barely lasted for a day, and they'd quickly reassumed their former manner toward each other. Things were getting close to the danger point again.
Suddenly, a knock at the front door echoed through the house. It was sharp, rapid, and authoritative - the kind of knock a cop might have. They looked at each other, almost sick with dread.
Wordlessly, Sawyer stood up and went into the pantry. Kate didn't move. She seemed to be frozen. "Come on!" he hissed. When she still didn't move, he went back and pulled her up, half dragging her toward the door. He could feel her knees trembling. "I put a gun down there on the shelf," he said hurriedly.
"What?"
He pulled up the opening to the root cellar, ignoring her. The knock came again, impatiently.
He helped her onto the ladder-stair combination that led down to the bottom. As she started to shakily descend, she looked back at him.
"Sawyer."
"Yeah," he said distractedly, glancing through the kitchen.
"Don't do anything stupid, okay? I'm not worth it."
He looked back at her, feeling a knot in his throat. They stared at each other intensely for a few seconds, both knowing that if this didn't go well, Kate might be in handcuffs the next time they talked to each other. She could obviously tell what he was planning. But there was no way in hell she could talk him out of it.
Breaking their gaze, she went the rest of the way down into the root cellar. He closed the opening and hurriedly replaced the mat. As he approached the front door, he grabbed the loaded gun he'd hidden inside the writing table in the hall. Trying not to let fear overcome him, he held the gun down at his side and opened the door a crack.
Nobody was there. He swung it open further, glancing around. There was a black BMW parked in the driveway. So it wasn't the police...He breathed out in relief. But he didn't know anybody who drove a car like that. Who the hell was it? And where had they gone?
All of a sudden, he heard the knock again, this time from the kitchen door. They were persistent, whoever it was. But the kitchen was alarmingly close to where Kate was hidden.
Going back through the house angrily and still considerably nervous, he re-entered the kitchen and moved toward the door. As he opened it, he halted in amazement and forced himself to look twice in case his deteriorating vision was playing tricks on him.
It was Jack.
