Blind Seed Page 3

  “Smells like we both could use a hot shower,” he added to the air for no reason.

  “Bacon and eggs sound pretty good too,” she replied, then said nothing more.

  “You don’t talk much do you?”

  “Not much to say,” she said, staring ahead.

  The remainder of the ride offered no words between them as he entered Blowing Rock, a small village town in the Western part of North Carolina. She smiled as he passed by the Blowing Rock Country Club and the Art & History Museum. The town was small enough for a person like her to get lost inside and no one ask a lot of questions.

  “Town ain’t much to look at, but if push comes to shove, you think I get a job somewhere around here?” she asked.

  “Nope, ‘cause you’re not staying,” Falling Rocks said as a matter of fact.

  “So say you,” she answered, “seriously, I’m going to need some source of revenue. I can’t expect to just live off of you without having something to contribute to the kitchen. We have to eat.”

  “Again, you’re not staying,” he said, crinkling his nose when he looked at her.

  “Yeah, and again, you’re just as wrong as that out-of-place ponytail at the nape of your neck, especially if you’re trying to blend in and look inconspicuous,” she jibed, turning her head to look at him. “Your size immediately draws attention to you; the pony is a detail people will remember. You’ve been living alone for too long.”

  “I plan to keep it that way as well,” he retorted, waving at a few people as he drove through the village.

  On the outskirts of town, he shifted the Ford into low gear and started the ascent up the mountain range. Midway up the hill, he shifted to 4x4, and the truck rocked up the uneven passageway before coming to a clearing. He turned right and pulled into an alcove that opened to the most scenic range of wilderness she’d ever seen in her life. Charlotte gasped at the beauty of what she saw.

  Layers of trees in varying shades of green surrounded a small lake. Boats floated slowly down the waterway as clouds lined the sky in the backdrop. A mass of rock jutted from the earth, sticking up like a thumb suddenly struck by a hammer. In the forefront of it all was a cabin, built on a pier base, an A-line, two-story chalet with a wide deck surrounding the structure, and an additional deck on the second floor was where Falling Rocks called home.

  “Wow, this is amazing,” she told him, flashing a smile that changed her entire face. “Do you fish off the decks?”

  “I do,” he said, feeling the swell of pride in his chest.

  “You built this, didn’t you?”

  “Affirmative,” he said, putting the truck into park. He cut the engine. Slowly he opened the door, asking her to wait as he disarmed his security systems.

  A red light hit Charlotte in the center of her chest and she froze in place. Falling Rocks clicked a few buttons on his phone and the red light disappeared. He said no more, other than to tell her to come on. She followed him to the porch, suddenly feeling a sense of peace as she took a seat on the deck in one of the two purple lounge chairs.

  “You can shower first, and I’ll start some grub, or vice versa,” he said.

  “I can boil eggs and make toast,” she said. “On a good day, maybe flip a pancake, but I can’t cook.”

  Falling Rocks scowled at her again. “I’ll unload, you shower first, then I’ll cook us some grub before we head out.”

  “I think, and this is just me,” she said, looking up at him, “I’ll unload while you shower. I’ll bring everything here on the deck. When you’re putting away the gear, I shower, then we eat, take a load off, and leave in the morning. You need a good night’s rest in your bed so your back can stop hurting.”

  “How do you know my back is hurting?”

  “You’re favoring your right leg and listing to the left,” she said, “and it’s throwing off your gait.”

  “Hmmph,” he said, “aren’t you perceptive.”

  “Have to be to stay alive in this world and to avoid unwanted dicks permeating my body,” she said.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I’m gay,” she told him. “Most men, when they find out, give it the old college try to be the one to help me change my mind. Then, after a failed attempt matched by my look of abject disgust, they begin to treat me like one of the boys. I am no longer a challenge of a hole to be explored, but I’m also not a threat. We find a peaceful means to coexist.”

  “And you’re telling me this? Why?”

  “Because we’re going to waste nearly three days driving to Ohio for the Archangel to turn you around. You’re going to bring me back here, and we’ll have to find a means to coexist. I’m not going to fuck you, and I’m letting you know that fucking me is not an option,” she told him. “We have that portion cleared and, on the table, so when you bring me back here to live with you, it is an established fact that it is not going to happen.”

  “Honestly, that was the last thing on my mind,” he told her.

  “See, there you go...it wasn’t the first thing on your mind, but like you said, possibly the last thing,” she told him. “Go on, shower, I’ll unload in a minute. I want to enjoy this view.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do. This is my house, my world and you’re a guest; act like it,” he told her.

  “Your world just got smaller because I’m in it, and I’m no guest,” she told him and offered him that shitty smile.

  Falling Rocks didn’t like the shitty smile. He didn’t even think he liked Charlotte Worthington. He sure as tits on an old milk cow didn’t like the way he smelled. He made a good toss of the keys to her, which to his surprise she caught in her left hand. The shower was calling and he needed hot water on his aching back, along with a pain pill accompanied by that good night’s sleep.

  CHARLOTTE UNLOADED the vehicle, walking back and forth from the truck and placing the camping materials on the deck. She carried inside the items of clothing that smelled like a male bear looking for a cave to poop in. Carefully checking the pockets for leftover items boys like to hide in their pants, she loaded the washer with his funky clothes. His stinky boots were outside of the bathroom door. Searching the pantry for a bit of baking soda, she sprinkled a hearty amount in his boots and took them outside to get some air.

  Outside, she unrolled the sleeping bag. A ladder on the side of the house led up to the second deck where she climbed and located two clips which she attached to the sleeping bag for it to air out as well. She brought the cookware he had used at the river’s side to cook the fish into the kitchen and washed and placed it in the drainer. Quietly, she stood in the kitchen, looking about the small but well-laid-out space. She was so quiet that Falling Rocks wasn’t aware she was in the house.

  As naked as a featherless turkey, he left the bathroom, the towel slung over his shoulder. He walked into the kitchen, startled to find her standing there, quiet as a mouse, looking at him with only a mild curiosity.

  “Jeez, I’m going to have to get a bell for around your neck,” he said, adjusting the towel to go around his waist and turning his back to her. “Sorry about that. I’m used to being here alone.”

  “No worries, I have no interest in any of that,” she told him. “You’re in good shape, no body fat, but there is a knot in your lower back. Put on some clothes and after my shower, I’ll work out that lump for you.”

  Charlotte didn’t wait for an answer, but instead, took her backpack to the bathroom, bolted the door, and stripped down. She was anxious for the shower and also sighed orgasmically when the hot water hit her body. The water pressure was beyond perfect as she lowered her head, allowing the droplets to pelt her crown.

  “You’re with him for a reason,” she told herself. “Archangel sent you here for a reason. Find the reason. Stay calm. Don’t panic. Don’t overreact. Don’t give away too much information. He seems cool. Make him your friend. Make him your protector. Make him like you.”

  The sound and smell of sizzling bacon shortened her time in the bathroom.
She put on her last set of clean clothing. His clothes should be ready for the dryer and she could place her soiled clothes in the washer.

  “That smells amazing,” she told him, providing the shitty smile.

  “Okay Charlotte, stop with the insincere smile. It creeps me out,” Falling Rocks said. “Bacon, spinach omelet, and the last of the orange juice are here.”

  “Don’t drink it, or coffee,” she told him. “Coffee makes me anxious.”

  “Well, fuck, you need a few cups because you sit still like a corpse. You could use some anxious,” he told her.

  “Sitting still is a survival skill,” she told him. “My mother has terrible taste in men. A few she brought home thinking those men were going to take care of us, when their plan was to get her high so they could take care of me. Sitting still, you can almost hear the human mind working. When they came for me, as they always did, I was ten steps ahead of them.”

  “So, are you saying you’re ten steps ahead of me?”

  “No, only three,” she said. “You’re a tough cookie, but tomorrow, we can start our friendship anew.”

  “No, tomorrow you will be with the Archangel, and I will be here, walking around naked like I enjoy doing in my own home without you lurking in the shadows to make observations on my body,” he said. “Eat. Rest. Leave me alone.”

  Charlotte gave him a salute and did as she was told. She ate the meal and washed the dishes and her clothing. As a thank you, she folded his laundry, carrying the items to his bedroom and placing them on the corner of his bed like her mom would do for her when she was home.

  Home.

  It felt like a million miles away, yet the only home she could truly remember as a place of safety was her grandmother’s home in Hilton Head. Her uncle still lived there and she would like to see him again. There were times she wanted to reach out to him and have her connection to her Abuela come to take her away, but she couldn’t. Times like now.

  “It is what it is, Cady,” she whispered, using her birth name. She often used it to remind herself that Charlotte was a persona. Cady was the fighter. Cady was the runner. Cady was the survivor. She needed Cady to help her through the next two days.

  As the black of night arrived, armed for the evening and surrounding the house, instinct kicked in for Cady Slanecki. She wasn’t going to sleep in the bedroom he had offered her. Her plan was to sleep on the backseat of his truck.

  “No, you’re safe. I would never...and I’m insulted that you would think I’d try. Take the bed,” Falling Rocks said.

  “Sorry, habit,” she told him. “I don’t really sleep at night anyway. Been a long time

  “I’m turning on my security system, so if you have to come inside to pee, you may find yourself decapitated or cut in half. Take the damned bed,” he said, raising his voice.

  “Fine! I’ll take the damned bed,” she said, going to the room and closing the door. She eyed the queen-sized bed, thinking it had been a long time since she’d had that much room to sleep. At her mom’s, she had a twin bed. On campus, she had a twin bed. In her shitty apartment, she had a twin bed. A light tap came to the door. Panic filled her as she answered.

  “Yes?”

  “I’m leaving a couple of small bells outside of the door. Use it on the inside of the door and window. If the door opens you will hear the bell,” he told her. “Goodnight, Charlotte, sleep well.”

  The sound of his heavy footsteps moved down the narrow space between her bedroom door and his own. She tiptoed to the door, opening it to see two bells and a fishing line outside of the door. Taking the materials, she rigged a small warning system on the window and the bedroom door, before pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed. Soft cotton sheets welcomed a travel weary soul and a heavy quilt covered an aching body, making the woman feel safe.

  To her surprise sleep came at her fast, knocking her back, shutting her eyes and closing her body down for the evening. Charlotte slept. She slept hard and deep. The sound of a knock on her door jolted her from the bed.

  “Time to roll,” the voice said.

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she rose, made the bed, gathered her things and met him downstairs. He’d just left the bathroom as she went inside to wash her face, brush her teeth and follow him out to the truck. He passed her a bottle of water and a bacon and egg sandwich wrapped in aluminum foil. Charlotte had no words as they drove for eight solid hours, stopping twice for bathroom breaks and once for gas.

  It was a little after five in the afternoon on Saturday when the Ford rolled into Elyria, Ohio. At the cattle gate of a stonemason house, Falling Rocks issued a command to the red light aimed at his chest. A white light washed over the dashboard and he yelled at Charlotte.

  “Place your hands on the dashboard and don’t move them until you’re told to do so,” he instructed.

  The white light washed over them, then a familiar voice spoke. “What are you doing here?”

  “I accidentally received a package that was meant for you. I’m returning it,” Falling Rocks said.

  “No, it belongs to you,” the voice said. “Leave and take it back with you.”

  “I will drop it off at this fucking gate and take the hell off,” Falling Rocks shouted.

  The sound of the gate opening shocked her, and Falling Rocks rolled forward and found a parking space around the back to park the truck. Quietly, she climbed out of the vehicle and walked around the front end of the truck. The silhouette of a man she hadn’t seen in years appeared in the doorway.

  The same silhouette that had appeared in the doorway of the cabin in the woods that fateful night didn’t appear to have changed much over the years although she had. Charlotte ran to the figure immediately after seeing him. She threw her arms around him, holding on for dear life. For the oddest reason, and she couldn’t understand why, she began to blubber as she squeezed him tightly.

  His response was to embrace the young woman and place a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “Good to see you as well my dear,” the Archangel said, loosening her grip and leading her inside of his home.

  Falling Rocks followed behind, coming into the kitchen where a pot roast sat on the table with mashed potatoes, green beans, and crusty rolls. A peach cobbler rested on a trivet and his mouth watered. The table was set for four, and Cabrina Neary came into the room.

  “Falling Rocks, Charlotte, please go wash up for dinner,” she told them both, pointing towards the hallway water closet. They walked away, going to do as they were told by the lady of the house. She looked at her husband, arching an eyebrow. “You could have stopped him before he made the drive here.”

  “Yes, but their ride back is going to be interesting and will begin their journey together,” he said, taking off his wire-rimmed glasses.

  “He’s putting us all at risk by bringing her here,” Cabrina said.

  “We’re at risk either way, but what her father wants is a relationship with the little girl who left his house,” Archangel said, “and the child who left him is not that woman, but that woman is still that scared child. Falling Rocks will provide her the confidence she needs to face her father when the time comes.”

  “And you think the time is coming?”

  “The time is already here. Falling Rock’s arrival at my door is just going to expedite matters,” the Archangel said. “I need to start putting a plan together for what comes next.”

  Falling Rocks came around the corner. “What’s coming next?”

  The Archangel wanted to be angry with him, but seeing Charlotte tugged at his heartstrings. He could still see the child in her, impinged against a backdrop of nightmares that she couldn’t get free from even using all of her strength. This was the way it had to be, and it was going to be a gritty trip.

  “The Glitter Man never knew what she looked like as an adult or where she was located,” The Archangel said, “but he does now. You have set the pieces into motion way ahead of schedule. All you had to do was keep her safe until I told you wher
e to take her next.”

  Charlotte spoke up. “Archangel, I’m done running. I’m done hiding. If what my father wants is to see me, let him come. Who he’s going to meet isn’t the child that left his side; I’m done. If this man doesn’t want to be my champion, then I shall fight alone.”

  Cabrina touched her hand. “Charlotte, we are a family. We don’t go to battle without our armor. Your champion has been selected. He’s gruff on the outside but has a heart of gold.”

  Falling Rocks found himself again frowning. “No! No, I’m not. I am gruff on the inside too! And why I gotta be her champion? You could have called Slow or that crazy ass Ms. Hump. She likes to fight even when she doesn’t have to. Call her!”

  The tough guy melted when Cabrina touched his hand. The soft smile was like a mother’s caress to him. “She needs a champion, Falling Rocks. Will you be her big powerful protector?”

  He tried to smile back, but the smile looked like Shrek’s happy face after roasting a couple of swamp rats. “Well, when you put it like that...no. Hell no, I’m an assassin. A meticulous, careful planner, who makes his living handling bad guys. I’m no babysitter, and I don’t care how wonderful that peach cobbler smells, the answer is nope,” he grunted.

  The next 24 Hours changed his mind. As he started the drive back to Blowing Rock, North Carolina, Charlotte sat in the passenger seat. She had an entirely new demeanor and she looked over at him and gave a genuine smile.

  “Cough it up,” she said, grinning.

  “Cough up what, the giant fucking hairball caught in my throat?”

  “No, your name. You said I could call you by your name, so cough it up,” she said.

  “Boyd. Boyd Glover,” he said, feeling like he wanted to pull over and throw up. He wasn’t sure what the hell had happened, how she ended up in the truck with him again, or how his sister of all people had convinced him to take on this job. He didn’t like it one bit, not one little bit. If anything, he should have been given the task of taking out the Glitter Man versus having her wait him out.