Craziest Summer Ever

There was a long silence until he broke it. "Uh, you don't have to answer that, I was just curious."

"Ah, well, my counselor suggested I might want to talk about things with someone when I left town, though I'm sure she meant a professional. You're not a professional, are you?"

"Of course, I'm a professional!" he chuckled, "I'm a professional photographer."

"You shit," she laughed, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah and I'm not a counselor or a shrink or anything like that. But I am a pair of ears and I can keep my lips zipped, so if you want to talk to clear your head, fire away."

"I don't think that's such a good....Look, we barely know each other, so I'll have to decline."

"Your call. I do know that some people will do journaling when they want to slowly process things and no journal I know of can give you any suggestions. I could be your 'journal,' for want of a better word."

"Thanks, but I'd have to think about it."

Shortly after they reached the end of the road. He drove up to her cabin and helped unload her bags before driving back down to his.

The next day was a particularly beautiful one. He was able to get some great shots of a mother raccoon with her kits, photos he knew would sell well as baby mammal pics always seemed to do. That afternoon he was still deep in his work on the computer when he heard Sharon call from outside. He invited her in asking how he could help.

"No help needed. I wanted to invite you to dinner, that is if you haven't started yours."

"Actually, I haven't. Yeah, that'd be great. When should I come over?"

"How about now? I have a bottle of red wine airing and will be fixing some spaghetti and a salad here shortly."

"Sounds good. I'll be right over."

After washing his face, brushing his teeth and putting on a clean shirt, Jim went over to Saul's cabin, though he was quickly coming to think of it as Sharon's. She greeted him with a genuine smile and held out a glass of wine.

"To a successful day and thanks for the ride into town yesterday."

"Oh, sure. No problem. Mmm, tastes remarkably good."

"Yeah, I was surprised myself. Say, I've only got one dressing for the salad. Is Thousand Island OK?"

"Sure. I'm not picky."

They had a comfortable meal after which he helped with the cleanup. She poured the last of the bottle into their glasses and invited him to sit with her in front of the fire. He sensed she wanted to talk so he quietly stared at the fire savoring the last sips of his wine.

"Uh, Jim, uh, I think I owe you an explanation."

"You don't owe me anything. The dinner and this wine were payment in full for the drive to town."

"OK, maybe I don't owe you, but I think I should let you know why I've been kinda bitchy to you."

"Now I wouldn't say that..."

"Come on! I know you probably thought I was once or twice."

He felt himself blush a little as he tried to come up with a response.

"See there. You're blushing. I bet you called me a bitch at least once."

"Ah, OK, well, maybe once I did let the term drift through my mind," he chuckled.

"See there! I knew it. But I need to let you know why."

"Need to?"

"Yeah. You're my journal, remember?"

"Oh, I get it. OK, shoot."

She took in a deep breath, held it a few seconds and let it escape slowly. Then she began.

"There's no way to sugar coat it. I was raped by Trevor, my fiancé."

"Ouch," he whispered.

"Now, some people don't think such a thing can happen, but it can. Just because we had been having sex doesn't mean he had the right to force me whenever he wanted it."

"Shit no. What, uh...?"

"Our relationship was crumbling and had been for quite some while. He wasn't as attentive as he had been, was staying out late 'with his buddies' and was becoming actually mean and nasty to me at times. One night about four weeks ago, he came home roaring drunk. Usually, he would toddle off to bed to sleep things off but that night he came to me and demanded we go to bed together. Meaning sex, obviously. I wasn't in the mood and didn't want to be his cum dump for the night. I told him no and he got pissed. Demanded to know why. Insisted I owed it to him.

"Things heated up fast. Once he started to call me names, vile names, I knew I wouldn't have sex with him that night. If he'd been nicer, I might have had sex with him just to calm him down, but once I was called an 'ugly, skanky slag,' I knew I wasn't going to go to bed with him. And when he still demanded sex and I told him 'No' again, he hit me. Hard. Right in the cheek. It knocked me to the floor where he ripped my PJs off and raped me. Once he was finished, he staggered to bed and collapsed while I lay there on the floor, curled on my side, crying for most of the night."

"Shit, I can't believe it."

"Wait. There's more. When he got up in the morning and saw I wasn't in bed, he called out for me to come back to bed. There was no way I'd go and so I went into the bathroom and locked the door. Several minutes later he apparently needed to piss, came to the bathroom and pounded on the door. I finally let him in but as I was leaving, he saw my swollen and bruised face. He wanted to know what had happened to me. I didn't know what to tell him so I told him it was a long story and I'd talk about it later.

"Over breakfast, he asked me again and I told him. He went ballistic, swearing he'd never do any such thing and accusing me of lying. I told him about him forcing himself on me and he accused me of even more lies.

"I realized things weren't settling down so I got dressed and pretended I had a shopping date with a girlfriend and left. That evening he was surly and began drinking again. I got nervous he'd do the same thing so I quietly got a few things together in a duffel bag and snuck out the bedroom window.

"When I got to my girlfriend's place and told her what happened, she insisted I report him. We went to the police station, filed a report and within two hours he was in jail.

"I put most of my important possessions into my car and took off. Three days later I received a call from the police telling me I had to swear out a complaint in front of the judge. It was horrifying. He started yelling at me, calling me names all right in front of the judge.

"Once I was excused, the judge apparently sent him to jail with a huge bail. I don't know how he did it, but Trev posted bail. I had hidden at a friend's house but within twenty minutes of him getting out, he left me a threatening voicemail. He promised to beat the shit out of me before he killed me. I don't know what happened to him. I don't know why he went berserk. I guess it was because he was in jail and blamed me for it. It turns out he had been fired because he'd missed yet another a day of work without calling in. He blamed me for that, too.

"I became concerned about my safety. The police weren't very helpful as their hands were tied. They offered me the opportunity to get a restraining order but everyone freely admitted if he wanted to come after me, no restraining order would stop him.

"So, I took all my money out of the local bank, opened a new account at a national bank with offices everywhere and took off. After moving every few days and spending way too much money on motels, I found an ad for this place and decided to hide out.

"So, there you have it. And now you know why I'm skittish about men."

"I, uh, I just don't know what to say. Do you think he's still looking for you?"

"I know he is. My agent in New York called and told me he was asking her where I was."

"Agent?"

"Um, yeah. I'm a writer and I have an agent who works with my publishing house so I don't have to deal with all the nitty gritty of publishing. All I do is write."

"Wow. Amazing. What do you write?"

"Mainly novels. Teen novels and some historical romance stories."

"What's your name?"

"Sharon is my real name. I use a pseudonym for my work."

He didn't recognize the name but when she told him how many novels she had written, he realized she was very accomplished. One of her works had even been on the New York Times Best Seller list.

"Ah, Sharon, you realize being here is only temporary, don't you? I mean, this place is shut down in the winter. You can't even get here and the snow is frequently over the eaves. So, what'll you do come fall?"

"I have no idea. I'm off the radar for now. I told my agent and my sister I'd be out of phone contact and I'm laying low."

"Any chance he can find you here?"

"I doubt it. How?"

"I don't know. You're not getting any mail, obviously."

"Nope. And no phone calls. Maybe this fall I'll work something out."

For the next thirty minutes they discussed her situation in more detail. He made her promise to let him know if anything odd happened and as he stood to leave, she came up and gave him a hug.

"Thanks for being my journal. It does feel better to share it with someone."

"Sure. Look, you be careful and holler if you need me. OK?"

"Yeah, I will."

-----

Over the next three weeks, there was a definite thaw between the two. They shared meals twice a week or so and even played a few board games while sharing a bottle of wine. She would give him a tiny hug at the end of their get-togethers, always thanking him for being so patient with her. Although she felt fairly good in his arms, he knew she was damaged and he would never make a move on her.

Jim's acute sense of hearing told him one morning someone was coming up the road. It sounded like a motorcycle or a dirt bike, either of which would be decidedly unusual in that part of the woods. The two cabins were at the edge of a wilderness area which was off limits to motorized vehicles and as a result, most bikers went to other areas with established dirt bike trails. Because of Sharon's story, he became concerned. He decided to remain in his cabin and watched the road with his binoculars. Once the motorcycle came by his place, he saw a tall, scruffy looking man wearing no helmet racing up the road. Jim grabbed his maul off the woodpile and took off through the woods on the trail between the cabins.

Right as he got to Saul's cabin, he heard yelling, some crashing noises and a cry of terror from Sharon. He quickly crossed the open space and snuck onto the back porch. Through the window he saw the man standing over Sharon, yelling and swearing.

"You bitch! You ruined my life and you're gonna pay! He drew back and kicked her in the leg to her screams of pain and terror. He knelt over her and brought his hands to her throat. Jim quietly opened the door and tiptoed into the room. He could see Sharon was having trouble breathing so he raised the maul over his head and started to swing it down onto the man. Jim had not anticipated the maul hitting the ceiling and the noise caused the attacker to turn slightly, just in time to avoid getting hit in the head. Instead, the maul crashed with full force onto his right shoulder.

Screams of agony pierced the air as Sharon, holding her neck, rolled away from her attacker who writhed in pain on the floor, holding his right shoulder.

"Sharon, you OK?"

She nodded 'yes.'

"Is this Trevor?"

She again nodded 'yes' as Trevor started to sit up.

"OK, Asshole, you stay right where you are or I'll hit you again with this ten-pound chunk of steel and I'll aim better next time for your head. Understand?"

The man groaned and slumped back to the floor.

"Sharon, I need your help. Can you help me?"

"Yes," she croaked out.

"Do you have any duct tape?"

"Yes."

"Get it. We'll need to tie this fucker up."

She staggered to a drawer in the kitchen area, grabbed a roll of tape and brought it to Jim.

"Now, I need you to tape his hands together behind him. Tightly!"

"You motherfuckers, my arm won't go behind me!"

"Shoulda thought about that before you came here, Asshole. Now Sharon, tape him up. And, Asshole, if you so much as move a muscle to resist, I'll aim for your head next time. Now roll over!"

With screams of pain, he did so. Sharon sat on his butt and first pulled the good arm towards her before grabbing the bad one. More screams and swearing pierced the air but she persisted in pulling the arm back to audible crunching and quickly taped the two wrists together.

"OK, Sharon, check him for weapons."

None were found and the two of them dragged him crying and swearing up onto a chair.

They sat across from him as he cursed them, swearing to get even and even kill them.

"Looks like you're in no position to threaten us. You are at our mercy. You're way out here in the wilderness and you could disappear and nobody would even know. One quick blow to the head, strip and burn your clothes and let the coyotes and bears deal with your sorry carcass."

"They know I'm up here!"

"Yeah, who?"

"The folks at the grocery store."

"Is that how you tracked me," asked Sharon.

"Yeah, you bitch, you used your card several weeks ago. Easy to track you, you dumb fuck."

Jim jumped up with the maul raised and told him one more episode like that and his other shoulder would be trashed. He motioned to Sharon and they left the cabin for a few minutes while listening to the swearing coming from inside.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah. The shock was the worst part of it. He pushed me down and kicked me in the leg, but otherwise I'm good," she said as she clung to Jim. "Thank you for rescuing me."

"Sure. Just being neighborly," he chuckled. "But what are we going to do now? He's right, if he was asking about you and he disappears, you would be in hot water."

"As much as I'd like to get rid of him forever, we can't do that. Maybe we need to run him into town and take him to the ER and report him to the police."

"I hate to admit it, but you're right. Let me get my truck and we'll throw him in back and haul him into Centerville. There's no hospital any closer. We can file a report there with the sheriff."

"Good. Let me get my bag and I'll help you get him into the truck."

Five minutes later Jim had brought the truck up to Saul's cabin. He took the bad arm while Sharon took the good and they jerked Trevor up to his howls of pain.

"Shoulda thought twice about coming up here, Asshole."

"My arm's broken and you're fuckin' jerkin' on it," he screamed.

"Oh, so sorry," Jim replied as he jerked it again to more screams.

They walked/dragged him to the truck and threw him into the bed. Once he was there, Jim grabbed more duct tape and tightly bound Trevor's feet, ignoring the screams and cursing.

"By the way, it's a bumpy ride down the mountain. Hope it doesn't hurt you too much," Jim said before climbing in the cab next to Sharon.

The ride down was indeed rough particularly as Jim didn't seem to avoid any potholes. Howling was heard often as the truck bounced around on the dirt road as they rode down to the main road. They drove through the little town and straight to the ER in Centerville.

At the ER, Jim stepped out and approached the guard at the ambulance entrance.

"Excuse me, Sir, but we've got a hurt man in the back of the truck. He was attacking this lady here and seems to have run into a swinging maul. His right shoulder is damaged. He is violent and dangerous and we've had to restrain him. Could you please contact the sheriff and ask him to come down? We need to file a report."

"Sure. Right away."

Thirty minutes later while Trevor was being attended to in the ER, the sheriff's deputy took notes as to what had happened. He promised to put a twenty-four-hour guard by Trevor's room and would file charges with the court the next morning. "You two should get out of here and try to recover. If we need anything, we'll come up to your place. OK?"

On the way back to their cabins, Sharon remained quiet. When he stopped at his place, she got out, went around the truck and gave him a big hug. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Hey, it's what neighbors are for."

"Please don't make light of this. You saved my life!"

"Yeah, he seemed pretty pissed, I agree. Are you hungry at all?"

"No, but I could use a drink. Have any?"

"Sure. Some whisky, a few brewskis and one bottle of wine."

"I'll take the wine, please."

They sat silently together on the small couch with her curled up against him, drinking the wine. His mind was racing. He knew Trevor would probably get out at some point and they were still vulnerable. He could easily return with firearms and take care of them both. They would have to leave. But then what? Where to?

As his mind raced, she cleared her throat and spoke, "I guess I gotta leave. No sense in staying here now that he knows where I am."

"Yeah, probably right."

"I'll miss you."

"What?"

"Well, I'll leave and you get to stay and..."

"Are you kidding? He'll come after me, too. We both gotta leave. The question is: where?"

They discussed things a bit more over the next half hour until his stomach growled.

"Hungry?" she giggled.

"Yeah. You?"

"Not much, actually, but I should eat."

"Let me fix us something. You wait here."

After a quick meal she turned to him and asked, "Is it OK if I stay here tonight? I'm too freaked out to stay there by myself."

"Sure. Let me fix up the bed and I'll sleep here on the rug."

"I can't do that to you! You've been so good to me, saved my life and wined and dined me. I'll take the floor and..."

"Nope! I insist. You've had the shock of a lifetime and need your sleep. This ol' bearskin rug is pretty soft. Wait here while I change the sheets."

Shortly thereafter, she collapsed into the bed while he drifted asleep thinking about her, her situation, his situation and what they might want to do.

The next thing he was aware of was the touching of ice-cold hands as his blanket was pulled over. It was still dark as he felt her snuggle up behind him and within minutes her breathing settled down and she was obviously asleep. His sleep soon followed.

As daylight crept through the window, Jim woke up to an unusual situation. There was a woman wrapped behind him, her arm draped over his chest. He chuckled to himself as he listened to her soft snoring before he dozed back off.

It was her movement which woke him the next time. She was slightly stroking his chest with her hand as he felt her breath on his shoulder. It had been ages since a woman had shared his bed with him and as he thought about how nice it was, he developed a certain male physiologic reaction. He tried to think about anything but the woman behind him, but to no avail.

Eventually she whispered, "Awake?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Hey, I got cold last night. Hope you don't mind me sharing your warmth."

"No, not at all."

"I feel so much safer here with you."

"We should be good for at least a few days. I bet he's looking at some pretty big surgery. I think I totally trashed the shoulder."

"Good for you but you're right. We'll need to leave, I guess."

As they talked some more about the situation, his erection settled down. He volunteered to make breakfast while she ran to her cabin to get some of her food and supplies.

"You've got a roommate until we leave," she announced when she came back.

"No, that's fine. Let's eat and then we can make some decisions."

After breakfast they went for a short hike up to the rocky knolls above the cabins. There they sat silently though his mind was going a hundred miles an hour. Eventually, he broke the silence.

"It looks like you'll have to find a new place to hide out."

"Umm, yeah."

"And no using any credit cards."

"Yeah, learned my lesson."

"What about your work. Could he track you through them?"

"Probably. He's a computer whiz and could easily hack their site and get info on me."

"I take it you're not independently wealthy so you can't quit now."

"Oh, no. No way. Gotta work. What about you? He'll be able to track you down if he asks the right questions to the right people."