Trespass Read Free

shower and I’ll take another look at those injuries. I think you’ll be just fine, though.” He gave her a slap on the shoulder and watched her eyebrows rise. It was what he always did to a steer or a horse after he was done tending to it, and Russ reminded himself he was dealing with a different breed of patient now, one who might not take so kindly to a friendly smack. He went to his closet and gathered some wool blankets from the shelf, grabbed one of the pillows off his bed. Nicole stood nearby as he got the couch set up.
    “Could I get a glass of water?”
    “Of course.” He went to the cupboards and filled her a mug from the tap.
    “Thanks.” She accepted the cup, downing it in two gulps.
    “Like I said, help yourself. And the bathroom’s there,” he added, pointing. “If you want warm water you better beat me to it in the morning.”
    A genuine smile overtook her face, eyes crinkling, two dimples punctuating either corner of her wide lips. Russ watched her refill her cup before settling into the pile of blankets with slow, cautious movements, testing her injuries.
    “You sleep tight now,” Russ said. “Come knock if you need anything.”
    “I will, thanks.”
    He nodded, not quite willing to meet her eyes, the strangeness of their new acquaintance sinking in now that his adrenaline had faded. He offered the wall to the left of her face an anxious smile, clicked off the lamp and closed himself in his bedroom.

Chapter Two
    A bomb exploding couldn’t have woken Sarah before noon. It was the sunlight that eventually did the job, coaxing her eyes open and ushering in strange surroundings, and a sensation of comfort so foreign she sat bolt upright with fear. She squeaked out a cry from the pain that shot up her side.
    She held her ribs, glancing around the sun-drenched den of Russ’s small house. It was Russ, right? Yes. Russell Gray, farmer-doctor-man, the guy who’d come at her in his underwear holding a rifle, called off the dogs, picked buckshot pellets out of her and given her a feast’s worth of cereal and a shirt to sleep in. And she was…? Nicole now. Not Sarah, Nicole. You’d think after more than a week of living that lie she’d be better at remembering.
    The clock on the wall above her said it was twelve thirty. She tossed the covers aside, chilly autumn air tensing her body.
    She made it to her achy feet, found the bathroom and a clean, threadbare towel folded in half-assed male fashion in the cupboard. Russ Gray didn’t have much in the way of toiletries, but shampoo and soap and toothpaste were all she really wanted. The shower started up with a couple of loud thumps, the water coming strong and hot and sputtery. She stripped and climbed into the rounded, cramped enamel tub, just about dying of pleasure as the spray hit her. She remembered her bandage and gently peeled it from her waist, setting it on the counter outside the curtain. The wounds were nasty, but no worse than she’d expected…far better actually, with all the blood cleaned off. The water stung but the feeling of all that sweat and grime washing away dulled the pain. She lathered her hair with Russ’s no-frills shampoo, scrubbed every inch of her face and body with a soapy washcloth, gingerly lathered and rinsed her cuts.
    Sarah stood under the water until the heat faltered. She dried herself and peeled the icky layer of gauze from her bandaging, pasting the cleaner layer beneath it back over her wound. Studying herself in the small mirror above the sink, she traced a fingertip along the scratch on her neck, rubbed at the dark circles under her eyes. A bit of makeup wouldn’t hurt, might trick somebody into thinking she hadn’t been on the lam for the better half of a month. Still, clean was clean. An electric razor sat on the counter, and she made use of it, happy to recapture the most basic feminine upkeep. She soaped and rinsed her bra and panties in the sink, wrung them out and hung them over the rod. Buttoning