Stranger in my Bed

  “It looks wonderful. I love this color—is it a pastel?” Instead of waiting for an answer, she leans closer. “I know Eli said you don’t remember anything, but… nothing?”

  I slowly shake my head.

  “You poor thing. I’m glad Eli is here for you. I was just curious, I’m sorry. I wondered if maybe your life would come back in pieces or dreams. You know, like in the movies.”

  I shake my head again. “I wish. All of this is starting to feel more familiar now though.”

  She smiles. “Oh, that’s good news. It must be so unsettling.”

  I see what Eli meant by different.

  Suddenly, I decide I want to play along and plaster a smile on my face. “Tell me about Eli when he was little.”

  When she hesitates, I have to force myself not to smile even bigger. Two stories later, I’m pretty sure she’s making it up as she goes.

  “Nick and Sabrina are here.” Eli walks by and throws me a smile on his way to the door.

  I ask Sharon, “Have you met our neighbors yet?”

  “No, but I’ve heard about them. I think I just missed them before.”

  We both rise to meet them in the dining area, and I stop in my tracks when I spot Nick. He’s TALL. Probably close to seven foot and thin—two hundred pounds if that—with strawberry blond hair that’s short and curly, light eyebrows and sparking blue eyes.

  He grins at me, revealing dimples, and looking very cheery and St. Nick like. “Hello, Megan. Happy Thanksgiving.” His voice is smooth and low. His soft spoken voice doesn’t go with his height.

  I answer a second later than I should have. “Hi… Nick, right?”

  “Yup. Two points for that.” He turns his smile to Sharon. “Nice to see you again, Sharon.”

  “Yes, yes, it is. I’d forgotten I’d met you.” She slides a look my way.

  “Oh, wow, people don’t forget Nick very often,” Sabrina says, laughing, as she unwinds her scarf and hangs her coat up.

  “It smells like a holiday feast in here,” Nick says, “Which reminds me I just left the appetizers in the car. Jalapeño poppers!” He runs back out with his coat.

  “Why don’t we break open some wine?” Eli asks, ready with a bottle of white and several wine glasses.

  “Yes, please!” Sabrina helps him by holding glasses as he pours and starts talking in her usual chipper way. I’m thankful for it today. And a touch jealous—here I am hosting Thanksgiving but Eli did most of the cooking and Sabrina is entertaining everyone. The O’Dalaighs and Sharon brought a ton of food with them too.

  I try to smile and listen while I take in Nick, who has to bend way over to set snacks on the table. He’s huge but unassuming. The good cop. That’s what he is. He takes care of business by smoothing things out and making you feel like you’re on the same team, even as you confess to a crime. I’m not so sure Nick and Sabrina go together. But, hey, opposites attract.

  Eli, his mother, and Sabrina step into the kitchen so I sit down with Nick.

  “So, Megan,” he says quietly, “I wanted to make sure you know that if you and Eli need help with anything, we’re a phone call away. Or just pop over. If we’re not home, we’re usually at the gym, and it’s only ten minutes away.”

  “Oh, thank you.”

  “We’re happy to help. Sabrina’s so excited to have you home. It’s been a little tough moving to a new town, starting a new business…. So we’re thankful for you two, just so you know.” He raises his beer my way.

  I blush for some odd reason.

  “Thank you.” It’s almost a stutter.

  He leans closer. “I’m really happy she has someone else that’s new around here. It’s just such great timing.”

  I nod to that. “Yes, yes, it’s very nice for me too. Very comforting. This…” I look around. “Everything’s new.”

  “Just give it time.” He nods while speaking, and it’s so reassuring I almost tear up. “It’s just one of those rough spots. You’ll get through it. Things like this make people stronger, in my opinion. Just wait. I can see it. You and Eli are amazing together. He’s been strong, Megan. You’re a lucky gal.”

  I raise my wine glass to that. As I take another sip, I decide to give myself a pass today. So what if this is all fake? Maybe for one day it doesn’t have to be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Yesterday is playing through my mind as I sit at the dining table and watch Eli chop vegetables for homemade turkey noodle soup. The table beside me is full of drying noodles. We actually made the dough together today and put it through a noodle press.

  For the one Thanksgiving I remember, it was a great one. We talked and laughed and enjoyed really good food all day. Nick and Eli cut out for awhile to watch the game at Nick’s house, but I didn’t mind that either. Sharon loosened up after some wine and Sabrina was bouncy to start with. We might have gotten carried away with dessert and a wide array of liquor I found in the kitchen.

  I drifted off to sleep in Eli’s arms last night… I had half expected him to make a move on me, and truth be told, I’m not sure I would have minded. But we both went to sleep.

  Maybe he’s trying to drive me insane with desire for him.

  I’m watching him now, wondering if he’s happy here. He said he was. It’s just hard to wrap my head around. Soft music plays from a small player over in the corner. This place could start to feel like a home if we keep going like this.

  Sensing my eyes on him, he turns and gives me a slow smile.

  Something is different in me. Some hard wall gives in. I get up and walk up behind him. His movements slow but he doesn’t look at me. I step up close to his back and slide my arms around his waist. It feels surprisingly natural to lean into him, pressing my body to his.

  It also feels electrifying. I’m not sure what else is flowing through my veins but my body starts reacting in all kinds of odd ways, in odd places.

  After a minute, Eli turns around and wraps his arms around me like we’re going to slow dance. And then we do, our bodies touching, hips moving together as we turn in slow circles to the music, his forehead coming down to touch mine.

  My body coils inside with desperate need.

  I just need touched. That’s all. That’s all this is.

  And we’re married for heaven’s sake. We have rings. A house. A traceable history.

  He pulls me up by the chin and looks in my eyes. He’s got these brown eyes you can lose yourself in, and right now he’s holding me steady with them.

  “You want me,” he whispers. “And the only thing that’s been stopping you is you.”

  I sense his mouth lowering to mine. Feel our lips meet. My body pressing toward him. For a few seconds, I can’t fight myself. I kiss him back when his lips part. Slide my fingers into his short hair. The taste of him sparks a funny twinge inside me, which quickly starts to burn. White hot desire bursts somewhere low in my body and shoots upward.

  I’m out of control. Falling. Physically leaning into him because my knees went limp.

  “No, wait, Eli.” I stumble back.

  “Why do you keep pushing me away?” He holds his arms out, welcoming me back if I just take the step to him.

  “I’m not ready.”

  He sighs and turns away. “You keep saying that.”

  A flash flood of anger hits me. “Hold on a sec. We’ve been here—”

  “Home.”

  “For what, a week? I’m sorry but I can’t just spring into the person you want me to be.” I’m panting like I just sprinted. “You even said that. Remember? You brought flowers and said…” Am I hurt now? What is wrong with me?

  “You’re right, Meg. I’m sorry.” He tilts his head, giving me a remorseful look.

  It douses my emotional flare up.

  “I haven’t made this a good home for you. Yet.”

  That knocks the fight right out of me. He looks broken for a second, and in that beat I see a flash of deep grief and pain, a side I haven’t seen b
efore. From his time in the Air Force? His gaze sweeps over the table and back to me.

  I want to argue with him about it, and tell him it is a good home. I feel deflated and horrible. Before I can put together the right words, he speaks.

  “I want to get a tree soon.”

  “A Christmas tree? It’s not even December yet.” I regret those words too. We stand silently for a minute and I hear the water boiling madly in the kitchen.

  “Guess it’s time to cook these noodles.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Eli’s squatted down, nailing a board when I find him in the unfinished section. I woke up by myself this morning and poked around our bedroom, deciding I didn’t care if he had cameras all over. Then I followed the sound of his hammer. This part of the house is shadowy, the flood lamp glaring on the floor around it but not lighting the entire space.

  “Why do you have a gun?”

  Eli looks up, startled, but not that nervous. “Why is that a bad thing?”

  “Why do you have a gun?”

  He stares up at me. It was under the bed, on a small shelf that seems to be made for the specific purpose of housing a handgun.

  “It’s for our protection. Quite a few people keep guns in their house, or car, or even on them.”

  I weigh his words without answering.

  “There’s been a few cougar sightings out here.” He finally stands up and brushes his hands together. Sawdust shakes off him. “Listen, it’s a safety issue. We’d be stupid not to have one.”

  He hasn’t taken this tone of voice with me before. I take step back and drop my gaze. Where can I take this argument from here? Is it an argument? I turn away like I’m going to walk back to the finished part of the house. But I don’t. I stand there, facing away, thinking.

  At first, I was shocked to find it, in light of all my questions about Eli. I don’t want to explain that to him, though. I remember my dream with a gun in my hand. I can imagine the feel of it like I hold a gun on a regular basis.

  “Megan?”

  I turn around, arms crossed.

  “Megan, things have been going well. I don’t want this to make you feel weird.”

  “I don’t remember my life with you,” I say slowly, carefully, not looking at him. “So it’s hard to trust you.”

  He runs a hand over his head while puffing out his breath. “I don’t think I should get rid of it. We’re out here a ways. There’s cougars and possibly even bears, and then there’s evil people everywhere in the world. I just can’t imagine not having a firearm to protect us if the need arises.”

  Evil people everywhere.

  He runs his hand over his head again, going from back to front this time.

  “I’ve spent most of my life having a gun. I’m trained. You don’t have anything to worry about.” In two swift steps, he’s right next to me, running a hand down my hair. It sends a quiver through me. “I’m here to protect you.”

  I think of how he knew I bumped my head. He has surveillance all over outside and inside, and I haven’t actually been able to spot the cameras. And he has a gun.

  His eyes are warm, caring, protective… it’s hard to imagine evil lurking there, and yet I know he’s keeping secrets. Possibly keeping me here.

  “What do I need protecting from, Eli? What are we hiding from?”

  I hear the tiniest hitch in his breath.

  “Eli, tell me the truth.”

  He leans over, pulling our heads together so our foreheads are touching. I can’t see his face this way.

  “It’s better that you don’t know.”

  Everything comes to full stop. Did I hear him correctly? Did he just admit this isn’t what it seems?

  “I need to. It’s my life. I should know. Are we hiding from someone from Maine?” I step back so I can watch his expression, his eyes. “What’s going on?”

  Eli rolls his neck. “Yeah, there was some trouble back there.” He turns and walks away from me, rubbing his hand over his head. I’m starting to wonder if that’s a tell for when he’s lying—or afraid? Or thinking hard?

  “What trouble?”

  “You’re safer not knowing.”

  I slam my hand on a stud. It stings.

  “Eli!”

  The light blinks and Eli pauses, listening, and I hear a woman yelling. We look at each other and start for the door. The voice is getting louder. It’s Sabrina.

  “Eli!” She busts in through the door. “Eli! Nick’s car jack slipped. He’s under—he’s under, under—”

  Eli pulls her into a quick and tight embrace. “Sabrina, it’s okay. Come on.” He grabs the keys off the hook by the door and runs to his truck. Sabrina gives me a terrified look and races after him.

  I watch the truck rip backwards and then peel out, throwing mud, as Eli speeds down the drive.

  I’m immobilized at first, processing. It happened so fast.

  What was that? Crazy timing, or…

  I swear it seems like she came right then to interrupt. There’s only one way to tell. I take the other set of keys and go to out to the Toyota. It’s under thirty degrees outside but I’m not going back for a coat. I start the car and back up, feeling out of practice but also not uncomfortable behind the wheel.

  I drive down the road slowly, my teeth chattering and goosebumps popping up all over my arms. Once I get to Sabrina’s drive, I pull around the house and see Nick on his back on the ground next to a black sedan, Eli and Sabrina over him. The car is tilted away, this side higher and the other side touching the ground.

  I park and run over. “Is he okay?”

  “I’m fine,” Nick says from the ground, trying for a laugh. “Just embarrassed.”

  Eli straightens and looks at me while Sabrina fusses over Nick. I hear her say they’re still going to the hospital. He argues with her. Eli and I stare at each other, our unfinished conversation simmering between us.

  Then he looks down at my arms and yanks his sweater off over his head and hands it to me. I don’t bother arguing. I pull it on, pulling his warmth and scent around me. He’s wearing just a T-shirt now but doesn’t look cold. In fact, he’s breaking a sweat.

  “How’d you get the car off him?” I ask just as I see the veins bulging in Eli’s arms. It shocks me every time I notice how ripped he is. I look back at the sideways car and see a log stump rolled under it, holding it up. The jack is on its side under the car.

  “Eli, will you help me get Nick in my car?” Sabrina asks.

  “I’m okay, Sage,” Nick says, and he doesn’t look like he’s in real pain. “Not much of the weight even landed on me.”

  Sage? Had I noticed him calling her that before?

  She rolls her eyes at Eli and me before they get him into the car.

  “I’ll call with an update,” she yells, jumping in the driver’s seat.

  Eli and I watch them leave in silence.

  So Nick did have an accident. Sabrina had a real reason to come over, unless I’m crazy enough to think they faked the accident, somehow knowing they needed to interrupt us. And how does that make any sense?

  I glance at Eli. His face his is set, his arms crossed. He’s glowering down the road.

  “Eli?”

  He snaps out of it to look at me. I almost say something else. It’s just… I can’t put it all into words.

  He pulls me in and I let my head fall against him while he rubs my back.

  “Eli, I need answers.”

  “Shhh.” He’s whispering, so I can just barely make out what he says next: I love you.

  The scary part? I’m starting to believe him.

  Everything is mixed together: my fear and confusion mingling with my growing feelings for Eli, my desire to accept this life battling with the need to catch him in his lies. I might be falling for Eli but I’m afraid—of him? I can’t tell. Something is going on and the O’Dalaighs might be in on it. They might be watching me along with Eli.

  “Let’s go home and warm y
ou up. Get in my truck. I’ll come get the car later.” His words and tone get me moving. He’s silent on the short drive back to our house, and I glance over, desperate to know what’s going on inside his head. He’s shut down. I won’t make any more progress today.

  Another idea has taken root in my mind… I’m surprised I didn’t think about it from the start. It grows rapidly like a magic seed, sprouting into plans. But… what will happen if I try to leave? If I’m right about all of this, do I have a choice?

  I’ll play your silent game with you, Eli Hawthorn, but this is not the end of it.

  Part 3; Answers…or more lies?

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Meg, you have to stop.”

  I startle so bad I send my notebook and pencil flying out onto the floor. Heat floods my face followed by a wave of icy cold. Eli stands in the bedroom doorway, hands on his hips, wearing gray sweats and a green T-shirt, wet from his run. His voice doesn’t leave any room for argument but I try anyway.

  “Stop what?”

  “Stop making that list. Searching online. Prying into things.” He takes four steps so he’s standing over me.

  He has been watching me. Son of a bitch.

  I grab the notebook and slap it down on the bed to hide my writing, then cross my arms and glare up at him.

  “This is why I didn’t want to set up internet. You’re going to get yourself hurt if you can’t leave things alone.”

  “Give me one good fucking reason why, Eli. Is that even your name?”

  He sits down, sighing deeply, like I’m a child in need of reprimand.

  “Don’t patronize me,” I spit through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare. This is my life. I have every right to know why it’s been turned upside down. And I know it has! I know this isn’t right!” I push against his arm. “Why am I here? If I know something that could hurt someone, why not just kill me?”

  He jerks his head up. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  “Or is this all your doing?”

  Eli jumps up, making me flinch a second time, and proceeds to methodically pace back and forth, sliding one hand over his hair one way and the then other. I watch, every cell in my body growing tighter and tenser until he swings to face me.

  I hold my breath but he doesn’t speak.