That Day, Karen Deen [early readers .txt] 📗

barely breathing, tucked tight inside of an empty trash can in the back of the kitchen butler’s pantry. I put a box of potatoes on top of the lid before I squashed inside, bringing the lid on top of my head. No normal human would fit in here, but I’m just small enough. I won’t move or make the slightest sound. Tears are running down my cheeks the whole time, yet they are silent. Tears out of fear for my life, my life that has just changed in an instant. I know without a doubt that I’ll be lucky to survive even the next ten minutes.

“Fuck, sirens. We need to get out of here,” another voice shouts from close to me. My heart almost stops, as I know they’re getting to my part of the house.

“She must have run,” another deep voice slurs.

“No, she’s still here, I can tell. My dick is still hard. It’s like a radar for hot pussy,” the boss yells. “You can try to run, little girl, but we will hunt you down. Keep your mouth shut and I might even let you live after I fuck you. I like fresh meat, and you can’t be much over twenty.”

“Rusty, we need to leave, otherwise we’re all done for. I can see them coming.”

The storm keeps pounding the house, and all I can hear is his voice telling me what he plans on doing to me and the banging of the thunder. It’s dark, so dark. I can’t breathe. My head is starting to spin. I want my mom. Please help me, someone.

Please, anyone, save me.

My phone’s ringing beside me and I’m screaming at the jolt from my nightmare. I take a few seconds to try to calm myself. I want to ignore the phone, but there aren’t many people who have this number. I always have to answer, just in case.

Picking it up, it’s not who I imagined but I know it’s just who I need.

“Kurt.” I can hardly speak, and my voice is so soft.

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, and it freaks me out even further.

“Asha.” That smooth voice is like a calming balm over my skin. “Are you okay?”

Now, that’s an interesting question.

Am I okay?

Will I ever be okay again?

I wish I knew the answer to that simple question.

“Asha. Answer me.” His voice is deeper now, commanding my attention.

“Yes, no… I don’t even know.” His voice works its charm on me again, as I tell him what’s in my head.

“Is it the storm again?” he asks, this time a little softer.

“It’s always the storm,” I whisper.

“I’ll come to you. I’ll distract you.” If I could see him now, I know I would see a face full of mischief. As much as I want that, I can’t. Otherwise, I won’t be able to keep my distance afterwards. Hold strong, he can’t be yours.

“No, we can’t do that. We made that choice.”

“What, we can’t sit and talk?” Kurt is now laughing at me.

“We both know that is not what you meant, and even if we started with that, the next big crack of thunder I’d be in your lap again, and I’m not sure it would stop there. Tell me I’m wrong.” I’m laughing now too, and the memory that was ripping me apart a moment ago is quickly fading into the background again.

“Hey, I’m a grown man. I have will power.” He’s trying to sound convincing, yet I can hear in his voice that it’s as fake as my bravado was.

“Like last night? Really, give me a break. You crumbled so fast, big boy.”

His pretend gasp has me giggling.

“My manhood has been shattered. My man card taken away. I didn’t crumble, I was protecting a damsel in distress who asked kindly for me to satisfy a particular request. What gentlemen denies a lady’s request?”

“You should have been an actor with that Academy Award-winning performance.” I feel my body relaxing into the bed, my head sinking into my pillow, while all I can hear is Kurt’s voice. The storm is still all around me, yet I can’t hear a rumble that scares me.

“How do you do that?” I whisper.

“Do what, Asha?”

“Calm my storm. No one has done that… up until you.” I look towards the window, lace curtains hanging softly, the solid blind pulled down underneath it to try to keep out the visual of the weather. But still, the flashes of the light sneak in the sides, so I know it’s there and hasn’t quite left me yet.

“Don’t you mean, calm the storm?” he asks, not understanding.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.” Not even close, but let’s run with that for now.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come to you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ve survived before. I’ve made it through twenty-nine years without dying from a storm. Pretty sure that this one won’t kill me either.” I try to laugh it off like it’s just a childhood fear that I’ve never gotten a handle on.

“That’s not what you said last night. You wanted to die with a smile on your face, if I remember correctly.”

“Shut up. I said storm, not a damn hurricane. That shit last night was next-level. Of course I thought I was going to die. But then big tough Kurt came and saved me off the beach and protected me all night.”

“Excuse me, do I detect a bit of sarcasm in there, miss?” He tries to pretend he’s offended.

“Me? Never. Not a sarcastic bone in my body. Maybe plenty of words on pages, but I blame that on my characters. I can’t help it if one of them decides to be a sarcastic bitch.”

Kurt’s deep laughter booms down the phone. “You talk about them like they’re real people.”

Oh lordy, he has no idea.

“Wow. Now who is the sarcastic one? Of course they’re real people, in my head and in the heads of the readers, if I do my job right. What, you’ve never watched a movie or TV