The Rescuer Ch. 01

Thinking about her a bit too intently, almost got my finger sliced off. So I managed to force myself to control the larger knife a bit better, at least until the last of the vegetables were chopped. When everything but the meat was in the crock pot, including the special spices for the broth, I made sure the lid was securely on.

I breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Then I got busy sifting and combining the ingredients for the traditional bread I always made with this dish. Sooner than I deserved, I got the dough ball out of the bread mixer and got it rising under a towel in a bowl beside the stove. The well rested, now room temperature roast was next. Knowing it was going to be more of a stew-like version, I got out the old battered wooden cutting board that had been my Aunt's.

True to form, the instant the meat hit the old platter, Ruthy reappeared.

This time, she chose to watch from atop the old antique upholstered rocking chair in the living room. It was a little higher than the counter top, and the new perch gave her the best view of the main ingredient getting prepared on the counter. My little gray guard cat, watched me intently, as I carved the meat to be seared in the cast iron pan I had just set on the stove.

The first batch of the bite sized chunks rapidly got caramelized and browned, even as the rest of the huge roast quickly got broken down to a more manageable size. Looking over at my audience, I sliced off a few thin strips for my cat and cooked the unseasoned meat a bit more thoroughly, for her to enjoy later tonight.

At least Keeley and Ruthy got along well, even if they'd already ganged up together against me several times. By the time the last of the seared meat was in the crock pot, as if reading my train of silent thoughts, the independent finely furred menace quickly found something much more important to do.

Left alone again to finish cooking, and to try and regather my scattered thoughts, I had to calm myself down again before I could do a good job at either task.

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My particular model of a huge programmable crock pot would stir things automatically, and would even adjust the heat properly, without me having to worry too much while I was gone. The homemade bread was already in it's final pan, and was slowly getting it's last rise in the refrigerator. It would take just a few minutes to bake fresh later tonight.

With everything food-wise taken care of, I just stared at the once clean kitchen that now looked like a war zone.

I had to blink twice at the clock on the microwave, more pleasantly shocked than surprised by the amount of time it had taken me to eventually get to this point. The hours and hours extra early start to my normally lazy Sunday had paid off, but that advantage wouldn't last long, unless I got this new mess quickly cleaned up.

I dug right in... but as always... my mind got just as busy as my hands whenever I was doing routine tasks.

It was always much harder for me to lie to myself when I was multitasking. I just couldn't varnish over obvious facts when I was distracted. So I finally allowed myself to admit what had really been bothering me all morning.

This entire last week, taken as a whole, had both scarred and scared Keeley badly. Maybe even enough that she just might not come back tonight, and choose to stay somewhere else.

Perhaps even with someone else.

My little red head might even strategically stay away, for just a few more hours longer than she had promised, and only come back to secretly get her things after I was stuck at work on the night shift.

I wouldn't blame her a bit if Keeley did that though... but I certainly wasn't going to be the one to kick her out... she was far too special a person to let go of so easily.

You just didn't meet someone like Keeley every day, no matter where or how hard you looked.

She wasn't your typical dancer by any stretch of imagination. On that very first night, I'd quickly found out that she'd once had a good daytime job. One that she liked, and had spent far too much money going to a horribly expensive college to get qualified for. She only started dancing about halfway through school, right after she hooked back up with her longtime sleaze of an ex-boyfriend.

That bastard was the one who had actually convinced her to start dancing in the first place.

Although at the time he'd had a good job working in construction, and drove a nice car, Keeley said that her now Ex was always too broke to help her out financially. Or otherwise. Going to school full time, and working nights at a multiplex movie theatre, kept Keeley constantly broke. When her beloved old car finally gave out, she asked for some help him to repair it.

He slyly suggested Keeley enter one of those amateur night dancer contests instead, to get the cash for a real mechanic.

Keeley admitted to me, that prior to her stripping for the first time, they'd been together inside a few of the clubs before. Her Ex had always timed their weekend nights out to end almost at closing time. Most of their normal adventures were filled with heavy drinking, dancing and listening to bands downtown. But occasionally, they would stop in at a strip club. After seeing the girls on stage, and not even having the time left to get proper lap dances for either of them, they would always rush home and jump right into bed.

Usually on those kinds of nights, Keeley said that they were too drunk to remember by the time the sun rose, exactly what they had done sexually to end their evenings.

Drinking that much wasn't a luxury I could afford myself. For lots of reasons. Even when I was with Emma, I just didn't trust myself to ever get too drunk. With so much of the pain in my past, always so close to the surface, coupled with the training I had been given?

No one would be safe around me if I ever truly lost control.

For any reason.

What my so-called cousin Anthony politely called 'fits' were bad enough cracks in my personal armor. But it was being startled out of one of my night terrors that truly made my relatives and even closest friends wary around me. Hours, or even whole days after the worst kinds of those horrific relived experiences, I was an accident just waiting to happen.

Silent. Tense. Jumpy.

My nerves were raw. My reflexes got all twisted up inside of me. Too slow one moment making me clumsy. Too damn fast the next making me lunge out of control at the slightest provocation.

Emotionally I was even worse.

The unusual dead calm that came over my outward appearance belied the storm raging deep inside my mind and soul.

Broken and twisted almost beyond all hope of ever fully recovering.

Just how many night terrors had I endured since my little redhead had moved in with Ruthy and me? Did I even know about the ones I never woke up from? Drinking would certainly help me, for a little while at least.

Emma had wanted to see me actually drunk, just once she said? I at least thought the start of that memorable night had been worth the hangover the next morning. Maybe we both still thought the beginning could have been a new path for us? I didn't know. That subject had been taboo for months before we actually broke up. But the alcohol had helped. For a little while.

So when Keeley recounted for the first time she had ever gotten naked on stage before a huge crowd, my understanding of her drunken courage was semi-theoretical at best. For me, it had to stay that way.

For everyone else's sake.

But most of my friend's, who I usually ended up driving home after their own adventures could relate to feeling that way in the morning.

Keeley had said that an abrupt hike in her tuition had made her really broke, so she finally agreed to enter the contest. Mainly to fulfill one of her Ex's fantasies, but in a strange way, also for herself. She had to get pretty hammered to go out on stage that first time. However, once out there, she'd really enjoyed how the crowd's reaction made her feel inside.

Even now, bringing all of my own considerable imagination to bear, I just couldn't quite accurately conjure up just how beautiful and vulnerable she must have looked that first night.

Keeley went on to dance regularly, after winning third place in that amateur contest. The small prize was just enough money to get her worn out little car going again. But unfortunately, it was also just enough to get her started down the road that traps so many women in the dancing lifestyle.

She soon quit her legitimate night job, and eventually finished her far too expensive bachelor degree by working just a few hours dancing a week.

When she finished college, Keeley thought she could quickly get a good paying job in her chosen career field. Problem was, she'd never interned for an appropriate company during her last two years. To make things worse, she constantly feared getting caught at her rather unusual choice of income resources.

The only professional jobs she could get, that she actually wanted, were the low paying entry level kinds. The college debt she'd wrung up before she started dancing was huge. Not to mention the drain her boyfriend was beginning to place on all of her more than sensible budgeting efforts. So Keeley decided to put off her career even longer, dance full time, and try to pay off her crushing school loans as quickly as possible.

Keeley thought she could even slowly start getting her Masters degree at the same time. So she changed her very regular week night only shift schedule at the club, and tried to set aside extra money for her post graduate degree by working in the dreaded Saturday night chaos, too. When she had decided to move into the new too fancy apartment, her always sacrosanct Sunday nights got added to her ever increasing burden as well.

She had always reserved that night for herself, and catching up on her school work.

That last change was how we finally crossed paths. Even though I was a full VIP member, I only came in to my regular haunt very late on Sunday nights.

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The very first time I ever saw her on stage, I was instantly smitten. Most people these days can't even understand the true meaning of that quaint old fashioned word, but one look at her and I certainly was.

Keeley's tall thin classic ballet dancer's body had moved so gracefully, with her surprisingly tight dress clinging to every subtle curve. Her long curly red hair had flailed around her shoulders, revealing the face that would come to haunt my every waking moment. Well before her second song, when I would have been forced to see quite a bit more of her body than I was really ready for, I was downstairs at the main stage tipping her.

I'd left enough bills in her garter to make sure that I had made the proper impression, but quickly retreated back upstairs to the VIP level. I went to my regular lap dancing chair, in the even more private roped off area, to wait until she finished the rest of her required stages. I saw her searching in vain for sight of me, especially when she'd danced half nude on the restricted VIP floor's lone tiny exclusive stage. Keeley's small breasts, with their perfect nipples swelling up erotically, looked wonderful as she excitedly peered around the purposefully dimly lit upper level. Most of her areolas were a pale pink color, but darkened to a deeper red right around the edges.

A perfect compliment to her obvious potentially fiery nature... and they were also slightly raised up off the rest of her breasts... in a way I hadn't seen on very many women before.

This morning in our shared bed, as we partially made up for treating each other so badly the night before, I'd spent a lot more time worshipping them. I'd eventually gotten permission to do a lot more than that, but that wasn't a safe road for my mind to travel right now.

After a deeply regretful but realistic present day sort of appreciative sigh, I took a quick break from remembering, so I could finish wiping down the counters and put away all the cleaning supplies. Once the dishwasher was closed up and running, I leaned against the counter, and tried to stretch out my already sore back.

I was still maybe an hour and a half ahead of my normal sloth-like Sunday morning schedule. A quick shower would help my still sore muscles, but I couldn't help but worry that the next time I actually got some sleep, I would be doing it all alone.

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After my shower, I got dressed in some rather worn-out looking work clothes. It was still early enough that I could take a small break before leaving the apartment for the day. I chose to sit on the rarely used small couch by the two bay windows.

Ruthy was already there, lounging on the back of the seat, carefully observing the few late morning birds at the feeder I had setup for her entertainment. The little ledge outside the window was a death trap for anything without wings. Man or feline.

I was stalling again, once my favorite activity on a Sunday. I really didn't want to start taking care of the long list of things that had to be accomplished before Monday morning. So many of them had to unexpectedly be done, today, if Keeley and I were ever going to be able to move forward again as a couple.

It really didn't help my enthusiasm to admit that even if I never saw her again, most of those tasks had to be tackled soon anyway.

Keeley would be angry when she found out the whole truth. Furious, would be a much better descriptive term. Redheads didn't earn their hot tempered reputations falsely. I knew that better than almost anyone. No matter how much she came to understand the necessity of it all, the rest of the time we had together, she'd be more than a little mad at me.

No matter how good things ever got between us.

I was barely able to hold out a small bit of hope that Keeley would, eventually, come to accept my very needful and appropriate initial deception.

But had I actually already doomed our relationship... and just couldn't admit it to myself... like her old boyfriend hadn't been able to?

Taking a deep breath and trying to be honest with myself, I had to admit that if she even came back to my tiny apartment tonight, we still had a lot to worry about.

I glanced around the small space of the living room and nothing seemed out of place. Keeley had done a good job of keeping it neat and clean all week, despite all of her almost crippling injuries. I hated that she felt it was her job to do all that. I certainly didn't want to add to her worries by being a slob today. Or force her to immediately do housework when she got back from the guaranteed traumatic visit to her parents.

Her bruises, even covered up expertly with the kind of body makeup most dancers used to cover tattoos, would pass casual inspection. But a whole day spent around her very concerned and worried parents? They would have to be explained, at least to her mother.

Last night, when Keeley had startled me by saying that she would be visiting them today, I had started off our argument by asking her if she would tell them about us. My little redhead clearly hadn't thought that particular point out all the way thru. I made things worse by pressing her on how could she ever convince them of the truth about me, if she didn't even know it herself yet?

Things just got worse from there.

That was when I finally found out that Keeley hadn't even told them that she had moved to an even more expensive apartment four months ago. Or that she had taken on another dancer as a roommate, when her and her ex-boyfriend's bills had quickly gotten too much for her to keep up with all by herself.

Or that somehow, despite now working seven days a week at the strip club, money had gotten even tighter for them?

My little redhead was far too proud and independent a person to accept help from anyone, but it would have been far worse for us both if I had gotten caught secretly doing so later. So for the last six months I had patiently kept offering her assistance, in both small and large ways, and had always gotten politely rebuffed.

Each and every time.

She gave me absolutely no choice but to let her make her own mistakes... and do my best to prepare for the very worst... and neutrally wait as carefully as I could.

Slowly over this last amazing week, when we could actually hold each other in our arms and fall asleep together, Keeley and I had finally managed to piece together how all of the mysterious damage to her body had actually happened.

My little redhead had kept the addition of Shelly to their household a secret from everyone, even me.

If I had known before hand that the infamous Blonde Bitch was staying with them? I'd never have let Keeley keep deluding herself about all the dangers she was constantly putting herself in. The obvious emotional mistreatment her boyfriend kept making her endure had been bad enough.

But anything, or anyone, that Shelly took a real interest in was always in true peril.

Even now, I was conflicted about a moral dilemma still torturing my mind.

Would I have stopped that Bitch from hurting them both, if I had known about Shelly's improvised plan ahead of time? Would I have saved Keeley from all the physical damage, or even one moment of pain, if that put at risk all that we had achieved so far in just one short week?

My overtaxed body shuddered in a warning sign that meant I was once again treading too close to emotionally unstable ground... but just like I had all this week... I again ignored the kinds of internal alarms that I'd spent years learning to slavishly obey.

Somehow, despite everything, I was still honest enough of a man to admit that I really didn't give a fuck about Keeley's Ex.

Or even Shelly for that matter.

At least not any more.

That was because I now knew exactly how close to getting permanently scarred my little redhead had gotten. It would still be weeks before Keeley was completely healed physically. But it was the emotional trauma over what she had endured that night that worried me the most.

It might even never fully go away, for either of us.

Yet without the blonde's sadistic meddling... the odds of Keeley ever leaving her old childhood boyfriend without something else equally awful happening to her... would've been heartbreakingly small.

Realizing just how thin of a knife's edge our lives were dancing on, even right now, made my body begin to shake again.

And this time it just wouldn't stop.

Fear of future pain and heartbreak I could handle, but the combined weight of the last week, added to the strain of my night terrors was suddenly too great.

Much too great.

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Although I hadn't even made a single bit of noise, Ruthy knew that I was in real physical and emotional trouble anyway. She always did. Hopping up on the arm of the rarely used couch, her dark green eyes began openly and honestly studying me. Exactly the way I could only hope Keeley would be able to do for me someday.

I needed a woman in my life that didn't shy away from the truth, so they could help keep me as honest to myself, as I always tried to be with others. The past pain of the loss of Emma in my life, and the much more recent absence of Karen, made me groan in agony.

Emotional turmoil this strong always immediately became a physical torture for me.

Muscles shook. Tendons tightened. Fingers gnarled up into claws. My chest was on fire, from both the sudden lack of air and my furiously pounding heart.

Fear, that I would live to see yet another chance... to finally be truly happy wasted... suddenly tore thru my very soul.

A worried lashing of a long gray tail, let me know just how close to the dangerous and forbidden edge I was getting.