Dee wiped her wet hands on the front of the apron, her body trembling with the shock of Harvey’s latest onslaught. She eyed the leftover bacon and cringed against the roiling of her stomach as stress induced the dreadful sickness she thought she’d banished. Dee’s fingers shook as she splayed them over her abdomen, pressing away the nausea under her ribs. “What am I doing?” she whispered to herself.
“I asked myself the same question.”
Dee whipped around, swiping a dirty spoon onto the kitchen tiles. She swallowed and glanced towards the window, expecting Harvey to return specially to yell at her incompetence again. The tall male leaned against the doorframe wearing only a pair of blue jeans, long bare feet showing beneath the hems. His arms folded across a muscular chest with the familiar tuft of dark hair between his pectorals and his piercing brown eyes cut into Dee from across the room. She gasped. “Vaughan.”
He stared at her, his eyes narrowing. “Leilah.”
The childhood name seemed to call from another time, driving the knife deeper into her breast. Her father’s nickname for his tomboy daughter mocked Dee’s ability to take care of herself as an adult, lurching from one disaster to another. She nodded. “You’re Harvey’s stepbrother; I didn’t know.”
Vaughan exhaled through flared nostrils as though the association irritated him and Dee watched his jaw work through his cheek as he ground his teeth. A wave of pain crossed his face, pinching and distorting his handsome features and he put a hand out to grip the doorframe. Dee’s lips parted in horror. “You’re bleeding!” She pointed at his stomach where four clear wound pads guarded laparoscopic surgical scars and a long red line descended from underneath his belly button and plunged into his jeans. The long wound looked red and angry, oozing beneath its plastic window. Vaughan’s jeans were unzipped, barely hanging on his hips to reveal striped boxer shorts and he looked sick, dangerously sick. “Tell me how I can help?” Dee moved towards him and Vaughan shook his head.
“He’ll be worse if you talk to me. I bet he’s told you all kinds of crap. I just need to get out of here.” Vaughan staggered towards a dining chair and gripped its wooden back in white-knuckled fingers.
“He’s been real nasty, but I didn’t know that before I came here. He seemed nice in Hamilton.” Dee crossed the room quickly, putting her cool hands on Vaughan’s upper arm and feeling the heat radiating from him. “You’re burning up. I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No!” Vaughan’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t you dare! I’ll drive myself out of here, thanks. I only came back for my car and the horse. I’m not leaving her here any longer.”
“How?” Dee waved her arm up the length of his body which pivoted against the chair, taut with agony.
“I just will,” he replied, his teeth gritted. “And if you’ve got the sense I remember you having, you’ll leave too.”
“I want to.” Dee’s misery rose to the fore at her own stupidity, experiencing a flash of annoyance which lit up her face when Vaughan sneered.
“Well, I hope he’s worth it, Leila. You clearly don’t know him very well. Is that how you work nowadays? Whoring yourself for psychos?”
“I don’t know him at all!” Dee wailed, fear overwhelming her and removing the urge to slap Vaughan’s sanctimonious face. Pretty blue eyes glittered with tears and she gnawed at her bottom lip. “I met him a few weeks ago and he offered me a break for a few days, just as friends. Like a fool, I left my car in Hamilton and my phone won’t work. I’m stuck here! What shall I do?”
Vaughan closed his dark eyes and sighed, a frown set on his angular face. “I thought you’d grow out of climbing trees and getting stuck.”
“That was once!” Dee prodded the wall of chest in front of her, drawing back as pain crossed Vaughan’s face. “Sorry, sorry,” she gushed. “I’ll help you leave. Tell me what you need. Please take me with you?”
Dee helped Vaughan into his clothes. It was a slow and painful process. He sat on the bed while she turned up the hem of his jeans to stop him tripping over them as they sagged from being left undone at the fly. She fitted socks over his feet and slipped a dirty checked shirt over his shoulders. “Leave it open,” she suggested. “At least then you can see if it gets any worse.”
Vaughan sat stiffly on the bed, his arms braced behind him and his eyes closed. His face channelled a sickly shade of grey. Dee leaned her arm on his knee, squatting in front of him, her face filled with concern. “Vaughan,” she said. “You can’t drive like this.”
He groaned. “Driving’s the easy part. First, I’ve got to float the bloody horse.”
Dee stood up and put her hands on her hips. “You think you’ll catch and load a horse and then tow a trailer back to wherever you came from? Are you mad?”
Vaughan nodded, his dark fringe covering his eyes. “Utterly insane,” he replied, without blinking.
Dee glanced at the digital clock next to the bed and bit her lip in thought. “We’ve got an hour before Harvey gets back. I’ll help you and then stay and lie my head off.”
Vaughan coughed, his face creasing in anguish but he shook his head. “He’ll kill you, Leilah. Staying won’t help anyone, least of all you.” He puffed out a breath through pursed lips and hauled himself to a standing position. “Just grab your gear.”
Dee hovered in front of him, her forehead barely reaching his chin. The oozing mess on his stomach robbed him of energy and memories assailed Dee’s mind. A tousled haired thirteen-year-old Vaughan picked her up off the ground after the old mare threw her into a hawthorn bush, using his sleeve to wipe away the bloody scratches from her face. Dee remembered the thrill of his gentle hands and the masculine smell of hard work and sweat. She stared at the floor and blushed, imagining Vaughan’s soft lips over hers. She looked into the familiar brown eyes and nodded. “Ok, Vaughan. Tell me what to do?”