Chapter 17 - Whispers in the Dark
The lodge at Crawford Notch was quiet, dark, and utterly invisible from the main road. Within two hours, Adrian had contacted his private medical contact, Dr. Alvarez, who arrived under cover of the storm, extracted the bullet fragments from Marcus's shoulder, and set the veteran soldier up on an IV drip in the guest room.
By three in the morning, the doctor had departed, leaving antibiotics and surgical supplies behind. Leo was fast asleep in the upstairs master bedroom, wrapped in thick flannel quilts, safe and oblivious to the war circling his family.
Downstairs, the stone fireplace roared with birch logs, crackling with pleasant orange warmth.
Adrian sat on a low wooden bench near the hearth, shirtless. Clara knelt beside him, a bowl of warm antiseptic water and clean bandages on the floor next to her. She dabbed a wet cloth against the angry, blackened bullet graze along his ribs.
Adrian winced, his abdominal muscles clenching tight.
"Sorry," Clara whispered softly, blowing gently on the wound to cool the sting.
"You don't need to apologize," Adrian said, watching her face illuminated by the firelight. Her golden-brown hair had fallen loose around her shoulders, framing cheekbones that were smudged with soot and exhaustion. She looked breathtakingly beautiful to him.
"You took a bullet for me tonight," Clara murmured, wrapping a fresh roll of sterile gauze around his broad torso. "You let your home burn to the ground for us."
"Things can be rebuilt," Adrian answered simply. "People can't."
Clara tied off the bandage, then let her hands rest against his bare chest. She could feel the steady, powerful rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palms. For the first time in five years, the crushing weight of loneliness that had suffocated her since Julian’s death seemed to lift, replaced by a deep, terrifying heat that spread through her veins.
"Julian never loved me," Clara whispered, looking down at his scars. "Not really. He used me as a cover story. A sweet, naive small-town girl to make him look like an honest, hardworking family man. All those years I spent crying over his grave, blaming myself for not being enough to keep us out of debt... it was all a lie."
Adrian raised his hand, his rough, calloused fingers cupping her chin, gently tilting her face upward until her eyes met his.
"Julian was a blind fool," Adrian said fiercely, his thumb caressing the soft curve of her lip. "He had the greatest treasure in the world right in front of him, and he threw it away for scraps of paper. You are the strongest, most remarkable woman I have ever known, Clara."
Clara’s breath hitched. She didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek and touched his skin.
"Adrian..." she whispered.
Adrian leaned in, his dark eyes burning with five months of buried longing, and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss was slow, desperate, and filled with the fierce relief of two shipwrecked souls finally finding land. Clara wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking into his heat, feeling the raw, protective power of the man who had laid down his world to keep her safe. In that darkened cabin, while the blizzard raged outside, they clung to each other like life raft and storm.
May you like
Suddenly, a metallic chirp shattered the silence.
On the kitchen island, a encrypted satellite radio receiver began flashing red.
