“You don’t have a scratch on you. What’s going on? I can tell something isn’t right.”
I felt myself stare through him. I wanted to scream, “I almost died! I should have died!” but I didn’t.
“Do you want me to take you to a hospital? Can I call someone for you?”
“Who would you call? They’re all dead,” I heard myself whisper. “But I’m not dead. I’m not dead again.” Guilt washed over me, and my heart felt like it was being crushed like a beer can in my chest. On top of the guilt was the flinching. I flinched at every pop of the fireplace, every slamming door. Every loud noise played a crescendo on my nervous system, and each time I caught my breath and felt my heart skip a beat. Bullet sat on the couch next to me, holding me close. I didn’t respond at first; I wasn’t sure what was happening. If he grabbed my breast or tried to kiss me I’d probably scream, but he didn’t. He just held me. He smelled warm and comforting. I began to cry. Not soft, delicate tears either—my sorrow came from the inner depths of my heart. I wasn’t even thinking about the bear’s terrifying growl, the bear’s stench, the stench of death. I wasn’t thinking about almost being eaten by a wild animal. I was thinking of my sister’s cold dead hands that I grabbed when I tried to wake her up.
When I couldn’t cry anymore, Bullet picked me up and carried me upstairs. I sat on the edge of the bed while he undressed me and then placed me in a tub of warm, soapy water. From a shelf he reached for a jar and he sprinkled in a few spoons of scented bath salts, eucalyptus I think. It felt like heaven. I began to breathe more calmly and I felt my peace return. He was gone a few minutes but when he came back, he had two glasses of brandy. He didn’t try to put the moves on me, thankfully. He just sat on the floor next to the tub, sipping his drink.
“Feeling better now?” he asked, sipping his brandy.
“Yes, thank you. I’m sorry I fell apart like that. Could you hand me a ponytail holder? There should be one on the dresser. I don’t want to get my hair wet.” He brought me a scrunchie and I piled my wild blonde waves on top of my head.
“You look very fetching,” he joked with me.
“Thanks, I think.” I sipped my brandy.
“How about some more hot water? Just a little to keep you comfortable.” I nodded my consent. Absently, I wondered about his other house guests. I hoped they stayed out of the woods.
“Animal Control is coming to pick up that bear, if they haven’t already arrived. We don’t normally have bears this close to the cabins here. I’m sorry that happened to you and…I’m sorry I was such an ass earlier.”
I leaned my head on my foamy knees and wrapped my arms around them. I gazed at him. “It’s alright. I was the jerk. I should have stayed here and left you alone.” I hoped he could hear me; I could barely manage a whisper right now. I don’t know what happened to my voice. Did I lose it screaming earlier?
“No, it was all me—all my fault. I am sorry.”
“Okay.”
“Lilly, are you sure that you feel okay? You don’t seem like you do.”
“Have you ever faced death? I mean, has anyone you ever loved died?”
Bullet winced at my question. “Um…yes I have actually. Why do you ask?”
“Were you there when it happened? Could you have stopped it?”
Bullet made a sort of laughing sound but it was anything but funny. “Why would you ask me that? Is that any of your business?”
I pulled the plug on the tub. It was one of those old fashioned kind with the bright silver chain. I liked it. So much nicer than the tub I had in my tiny apartment. You know, maybe I should buy a house so I could have one of these nice tubs. “I want to go home. Take me home,” I said watching the water swirl down the tub drain.
“What about our deal? Are you reneging?” He faked self-assurance; I could see through him now. This wasn’t about the boob job anymore. It was about us. He liked me—he just didn’t know how to be a friend, much less a boyfriend. I mean, mostly he didn’t know how to be a friend. The warm bath had been a nice gesture. Still, I didn’t want to try anymore. I guess almost getting eaten by a bear changes your perspective.
“Sure, whatever you want to call it. I’m done. I don’t want any surgery. I just want to go home.” I felt tired, so tired that I could go to sleep in the bathtub — maybe it was the warm bath and the brandy. I drank the whole glass.
“Okay, whatever you want to do, Lilly but why don’t you take a nap first. I’ll help you get dressed—no, I won’t try anything and you can lie down. When you wake up, we will go wherever you want.”
“Promise?” I didn’t trust him but I was very tired. The rawness of my emotions had calmed down and I was exhausted.
“I do promise. Come on, let’s get you dried off.” As he promised, he didn’t try anything, just dried off my body carefully and searched my suitcase for some clothing. Finding the long, satin nightgown, he slid it over my body. It felt good next to my skin. Bullet pulled back the comforter and the sheet and stood aside so I could climb in the bed.
“I’ll either be downstairs or in my room when you wake up. Come find me, alright?” He stroked my hair. I had taken it down and now it was a mess. He pushed it behind my shoulder, closed the blinds and left the room. After he closed the door, it only took a few seconds to fall asleep.
Chapter Four
Bullet
True to their word, the local animal control came quickly and found the animal dead. The representative warned me about killing bears but said since the carcass was found on my land, I wouldn’t face any charges. I sneered at the guy and promised him next time I faced a bear, I would let my friend die. I wasn’t in the mood to be censured, especially by some pimple-faced teenager who thought more about animals than he did people. His boss overhead the conversation and said, “We understand that this was a dangerous animal. No one is blaming you for defending yourself or your friend. I took the liberty of doing some tracking.”
“Yes?” I asked the older woman, ignoring her assistant.