Blind Seed Read online

  “You’re saying we’re stuck together for a while and you’re making room for me in your world. In return, I’m going to stay out of your way and not be a pain in your ass,” she said, smiling at him and showing all her teeth.

  “I take it back. I prefer the shitty grin,” he said, pulling into a steakhouse.

  Side by side, they walked into the dining establishment. For the first time he saw a crack in Charlotte’s cool composure as she looked at the other ladies seated in the restaurant. The jeans and worn shoes on her feet made the young woman adjust herself, wishing she had a purse or something to indicate she was an adult woman and not the big man’s kid sister. Her eyes shifted to the floor, avoiding eye contact with the other ladies. At the table, she scooted closer to the inner corner of the booth, trying to act small.

  “Stop it,” he barked at her.

  “What?”

  “Acting like you’re small. If you’re tired of running, act like it. Sit up like a grown ass woman, put your titties on the table, and act as if you’re happy to be out of the house,” he said to her, giving her a tough guy face.

  Charlotte tried to give one back.

  “Nope, you look like you have a case of gas that came out of your butt and wasn’t actual gas,” he said and started to laugh. “Oh shit, that was funny.”

  “No. No it wasn’t,” Charlotte said, adjusting her posture. She no longer sat in the corner trying to be small but centered herself at the table. She wasn’t quite ready to start an actual conversation with the man, but she wouldn’t be a total sullen bore over dinner; plus, it had been a long time since she’d seen a steak. She could at least provide him a decent amount of company while he masticated on the chunk of red meat that was going to clog his arteries.

  It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

  CHARLOTTE DIDN’T KNOW how to describe the feeling of going into a store with money in her pockets to buy what she wanted and the brands that she wanted without having to worry if she’d have enough left-over next week to buy food. The part-time job she had on campus working in the gym was just enough to pay the rent, keep the lights on, and have poor man’s pasta and salad each week.

  The best thing, and she would never admit this to him on any given day of any week, is that she wasn’t scared. Most importantly, she didn’t feel the need to cower in the store, and to walk down the aisle avoiding the cameras. Walking beside him made her feel powerful. He was even thoughtful enough to purchase two bags of potting soil, a few pepper plants, and tomato and cabbage seedlings to get her garden started.

  Once they arrived at the home, a sense of calm came over her. It wasn’t her home, but she had a place where she could belong, at least for a little while. She only needed to figure out the best way to be of an asset to the master of the cave. Also, she needed to hide the beans.

  In the kitchen, she started the kettle to make herself a cup of tea. The sound of the shower starting almost made her want to run to her room and hide in case he wanted to stroll about the place in the buff. Thinking better of the situation and her word to the man of the house, she made herself a cup of tea and climbed the stairs to the second floor, going to the balcony and sitting outside, enjoying the close of the day.

  Ten minutes later inside the house, a very nude, 225-pound man, covered in muscles wandered from the bathroom. He removed his gallon jug of cold water from the fridge, chugged down a good portion, and suddenly stopped. His head turned slowly, peering into the corner to make sure Charlotte wasn’t standing there watching him in boredom. He leaned over the kitchen counter to look into the living room, expecting to find her sitting on the loveseat. She wasn’t there.

  “Where in the hell is her little weird ass hiding?”

  Draping the towel about his waist, he climbed the stairs, looking through the main window and spotting her foot. She was on the balcony with a cup of something hot to sip, staring at the lake. Boyd dipped inside his room to slip into a pair of sweatpants and a hole-ridden tee before going outside to join her on the deck.

  Charlotte looked up as he walked out and remarked, “Going from nude to grey sweatpants- okay.”

  “What in the hell does that mean? I put on some pants. I could have come out with my junk swinging,” he said, “I was trying to be considerate and nice and come have a conversation with you, but you want to be all.... blah...blah...moody.”

  She looked at him, giving the shitty smile. “Grey sweatpants are the code for coming over to watch a movie and chill. The sweatpants show the woman what she’s got to work with once the drawstring is pulled.”

  Boyd’s mouth dropped open. “I am way out of the game.”

  “Yes, you are, but we’re cool, and thanks,” she said, pausing. “What did you want to talk about?”

  Seated next to her, his legs folded lotus style, he stared at his lap. He had questions and needed answers. He raised his hand as if he were in the back of the class and she was the frustrated teacher. “So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that after all the years, if I had wanted some, all I had to do was invite a lady over and have on some grey sweatpants, and she’d know what time it was?”

  “If you mean the sweatpants would let her know you were ready if she was, then the answer is yes,” Charlotte told him.

  “Right now, you can actually blow me over with a feather! I have spent a small fortune on wine, flowers, and chocolate, and all I had to do was make dinner and put on some grey sweatpants and I could have just skipped all the other stuff?”

  “If you go to the grocery store in a pair, you can also have the ladies in the store shop for a fine specimen of manhood that is you.”

  “Nooooo!” he said, quickly getting to his feet.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the store in my grey sweatpants. Imma get me a woman!” He started laughing and sat back down. “Just so you know, if you see me going to the Wal-Mart in my grey sweatpants and come back with a friend, you understand, make yourself scarce, or you’re going to hear the grown folks being nasty.”

  “Something is really wrong with you.... but seriously, what did you want to talk to me about?”

  Boyd was seated again, looking out at the water. No matter which way he asked the questions or which direction the conversation was pointed, it all was going to come out of his big man mouth wrong. He’d learned that with his mother and his sister. Nevertheless, he forged ahead, ready to deal with the fallout of the question.

  “What do you want to do?”

  Charlotte felt a sense of panic, but he hadn’t moved. His body language and the words were not connecting. It was as if he sensed the concern, so he rephrased.

  “We don’t know how long you have to be here. I can be away from home for days at a time, or I can be out on site or working,” he said. “You need something to occupy your time, so what do you want to do?”

  “I need a job.”

  “There is space on my grant for a part-time assistant,” he said.

  “I can’t work for you and live with you,” she told him, “If you have to fire me, then you still have to live with me.”

  “Okay, so what do you suggest?”

  “Maybe get a Vespa or something for me to get a job in town, and what I really want to do is a podcast,” she said. “I want to call it Death & Glitter.”

  BOYD GLOVER WAS SELDOM taken by surprise. In the wee hours of the morning, Sebastián Rodriguez arrived to install the small garden for Charlotte and to place fences about it to keep the rabbits and deer at bay. The job was small, which also meant the pay would be small. Sebastian took exception to the amount being paid.

  “Well, that’s all I’m paying,” Boyd told him.

  “It cost me more than that in gas to get up here to plan a 6’ x 6’ garden that could go in above ground this high above sea level,” Sebastian said, looking down at the fifteen twenty-dollar bills.

  “Gas doesn’t cost that much,” Boyd said, turning his back on the man to start his breakfast.

  Inside the home, Charlotte was up, dressed, and holding a cup of hot tea in her hand. Sebastián, outside of the home, began a detailed conversation with himself in Spanish. He worked in the heavy bags of dirt, moving rocks and adding fresh soil as he spoke in Spanish. He looked at the house and spoke aloud to himself in his native language. Charlotte nearly burst into laughter.

  “What’s so damned funny?”

  “I take it you don’t speak or understand Spanish?”

  “No, what is that South of the Border tortilla eater saying about me?”

  Charlotte went outside, out of curiosity, to meet the man. He looked up, tipped his hat to her and spoke in broken English. “I make. I make garden for you, Senorita,” Sebastián said.

  Under his breath, he continued talking. Charlotte listened. Sebastián said everything that was on his mind.

  I sure hope she’s not fuckin’ him, he would split her tiny...in two. I don’t see what she sees in that cheap bastard. I hope she gets her money upfront because his cheap ass is likely to screw her brains out and then shortchange her, saying the tip is what he gave her already.

  Boyd was also outside. He didn’t understand what Sebastián was saying, but the expression on Charlotte’s face said it all. Quietly, barely making a ripple in the air, Boyd disappeared, returning a few minutes later with a large machete and a fully loaded automatic weapon.

  “Say all that again, Sebastián!”

  Sebastián, totally in shock, looked at Boyd and then the woman. The woman understood what he was saying. He started to apologize.

  “Why is he apologizing, Charlotte? What did Sebastián say about me...about us?”

  “In a nutshell, he said you’re cheap and if I’m fucking you, I need to get paid upfront because the only tip I’m going to get is the one in your grey sweatpants,” she said, trying not to smile.

  “Sebastián!” Boyd shouted.

  In return, Sebastián removed his hat, pressing it to the front of his shirt, covering his heart. “I’m sorry, Señor, no speak English very good,” Sebastián explained.

  “The hell with you Sebastián! You’ve spoken perfect English for the last five years, now you want to act like you don’t speak English! I will come off this porch and beat the jalapenos out of you!”

  “Señor very angry. Señor very angry at Sebastián,” the man said, squinting his dark eyes at Charlotte.

  “Don’t look at her, you six toed weirdo.”

  Charlotte asked, “Does he really have six toes? I’d like to see that.”

  “And where did you learn Spanish?” Boyd asked.

  “Mi Abuela taught me from the time I was a child,” she said.

  “Wait... Exit is Hispanic?”

  “I guess so, considering his mother was Chilean,” she offered, squinting at Sebastián, who was trying to get away. “Hey, don’t run off. I promise I won’t allow him to eat you.”

  “Yeah, but does he know that?’ Sebastián wanted to know before coming back to continue the work. He bent over, lifting the handle of the hoe while keeping his eyes on Charlotte, and a twinkle came to his eye. She immediately considered him to be a trier. He was going to try and shoot his shot. “So...what’s a nice girl like you doing with a monster like him?”

  She knew the routine. She knew the type of guy Sebastián was just by his eyes. He wasn’t really interested in her per se, but if she gave him an in, he would shove up more than an inch. He was sneaky. A sneaky man that if she had a brother, he wouldn’t be allowed in the house alone with her.

  Charlotte gave him the shitty smile. “Who said I was a nice girl?”

  Falling Rocks also knew the type of man Sebastián was. He wouldn’t want to leave the man alone with his sister, even if he already paid for a wank. He sure as hell didn’t like him being around Charlotte.

  His voice deepened when he talked to the man. “Hey, she’s off limits. Do the work. Get paid. Eyes. Hands. Dirty thoughts off. She is Gumby to you, understand me?”

  “Me?” Sebastián said, “I didn’t do anything.”

  “I don’t like the way you’re looking at her,” Falling Rocks said. “Better yet, take your money and go. I’ll do the garden myself.”

  Charlotte did the one thing she never expected to do; she reached out and touched his arm. The bulging bicep in her hands felt massive as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. Falling Rocks didn’t growl or bark at her when he looked down at her face.

  “He came all this way. You’ve paid him for the time. Allow him to complete the task,” she said. “We have other matters to attend to.”

  Falling Rocks squinted his eyes, knowing she was putting on a show for the man. He’d play along, for now. He gave Sebastián the evil eye and followed her into the home. Again. The big guy surprised her when he spoke.

  “I’ve known him for years, but it’s always just been me here, never a permanent woman. I didn’t like how he was looking at you,” he said. “I’m sorry I invited him here. I hope he didn’t make you too uncomfortable.”

  “Eh...him, I could slit his throat and he’d be dead before he ever knew what happened to him,” she said faster than expected. The expression on Falling Rocks’ face said it all. “Sorry...too dark?”

  “Uhm...yeah,” he replied, looking at the woman who pretended to be meek in the presence of men. Suddenly, he was the one who was uncomfortable. The discomfort came at him on two fronts; one, for allowing the slip of a woman to get under his skin, and two, for suddenly finding her a helluva lot more interesting.

  Chapter Five – A Kernel...

  The home, while sparse in décor, said a great deal about the man himself. He was a tidy person who enjoyed a bit of organization. Every item in his home had a place, and a place was held for every item in his home. The one thing which was out of place and had no home was her. What she did not see and what piqued her interest was his workspace. Charlotte asked the next morning as he shoveled eggs into his face.

  “Your home is quite comfortable,” she told him, half expecting the man to growl at her to not get too used to it, but he didn’t.

  “I like the open floor plan. I don’t feel caged in,” he said, scooping up more eggs, this time mixing it with a hearty helping of grits.

  “Caged in...that is a good word for it,” she said softly, “so where is your workspace? I mean, you have the perfect cabinet size for your four cups, four plates, and a space for your gear. I don’t see where you sort through your rock collections.”

  “My rock collections?” he asked, looking up at her with a bit of amusement on his face.

  “Yes, your collection of igneous, shale shards, and limestones,” she said, offering a genuine smile. To her surprise, he smiled back at her, which caught her totally off guard. He had a warm, nice smile, accompanied by a wonderful set of well-maintained teeth, and there were crinkles at the corners of his eyes. The man, in her estimation, was actually handsome.

  “Charlotte, are you trying to flirt with me?”

  The smile left her face. “Why would I want to do that? I just figured it would give us a moment to bond, talking about your rocks.”

  “What if I don’t want to share and talk about my rocks?”

  “Or would you like to talk about what gets your rocks off?”

  He stopped chewing.

  He watched her eyes.

  In them, he saw a playfulness he hadn’t seen before and realized she was making a real-life attempt to connect with him. It wouldn’t be fair of him to shut her down simply because she and the entire playing around attempt made him uncomfortable as hell. However, if he were to be her champion, a connection was needed.

  “Let me finish my breakfast, and I’ll show you my workshop, my rock collection, and the local gemstones I found and polished,” he said, leaving the door open for her to walk through.

  A smile eked at the corner of her lips. “So, you’re going to show me where you polish your rocks?”

  “That, I am,” he said, finding himself once more smiling.

  “You didn’t bite. I’m surprised.”

  “There will be a lot of things about me that will surprise you,” he told her, getting to his feet.

  Today he wore a fitted pair of denims and a t-shirt that read I Rock with a small silhouette of a man climbing a rock face. The muscles in his arm called to her and Charlotte nearly stood up, ready to touch the muscle-imbued appendages, allowing her fingers to run up and down the cords. As he turned, her eyes went to his glutes. The man could wear a pair of jeans.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he said softly. “Your eyes and body language are saying something different from what you’ve told me. And just to be clear, don’t touch me. I let it go yesterday in front of Sebastián because, well, he was being an ass, but yeah, stop it.”

  “I’m just appreciating the work and the effort you put into all of that,” she said, trying to hide the true appreciation in her eyes.

  “Years of climbing rock faces, hiking back wood trails, and trudging up fast-moving streams will build all kinds of muscles,” he said to her, placing his bowl in the sink and giving it a wash.

  “All of that is natural?”

  “Yes, and again, stop it,” he said. “Do you need to go for a run?”

  “I could use one, but I want to see your shop,” she said, waiting for him to leave the space of the sink so she could have her turn. Once her task was completed, she followed him out the back door of the home and around the rear of the chalet that did not have the deck extension, and they came to a 20 x 14 work shed. “Did you build this too?”

  “No, I ordered it, and the inside, I made into the workspace that I use for my projects,” he said, unlocking the heavy-duty Henry fastener, opening the door, and stepping inside. He flicked on the light and her breath caught. It felt as if she’d entered the mind of a killer and saw each methodical step he’d take to end the life of a person he deemed no longer worthy to reside on earth.