Thunder rumbled, and lightning sizzled and flashed, brightening the entire living room.
The lights flickered and then died. The only light in the room was from the dancing flames in the fireplace.
“Perfect,” I whispered more to myself than to the unconscious man on my couch. “Now what the hell am I supposed to do with you?”
I sat on the fireplace hearth across the room from the mysterious man who’d haunted my dreams. I didn’t know much about him, not from lack of digging for his identity. His was a nameless face I’d visit while I was sleeping. All the Bennett’s came with special gifts. One of mine happened to let my soul leave my body and take road trips. And this guy was like a magnet that called to my astral projected consciousness.
I couldn’t explain it.
I didn’t know how long I sat staring at him, watching his dark hair drip down his face. His wet clothes were ruining my couch. His body shivered, and I let out a lengthy breath at the realization that this problem wasn’t going to go away.
Shoving to stand, I carried the gun with me while I gathered blankets and other things I was going to need. If this guy died under my roof from hypothermia, my sisters would never quit teasing me how I’d killed the man they considered my Mr. Right.
Mr. Right. Ha. As if. Just one look at the guy, and I knew that wasn’t true. He was shot and bleeding and leaving himself vulnerable to an unknown woman.
I pulled off the guy’s boots and socks before reaching for the button of his jeans. That struggle left me winded while I tried my best to undress him. Without messing with the wound too much after his first moan of pain, I swaddled him like a six-foot-three baby to try to keep him from catching a cold or worse.
His wallet fell out of his pants, and I picked it up and opened it. There was no ID, nothing except a one-hundred-dollar bill with my first name written on it in black marker and a piece of paper with my last name and the address.
Chapter Four
I stirred the spaghetti sauce at sunrise using my new-in-the-box camping gear to cook with. The rain was still pelting down hard and didn’t look as though it would slack off anytime soon.
Most people ate breakfast at this time, not me. Not when I’d be going to bed in a few hours, depending on my house guest situation.
If the phones would come back up, I could call an ambulance or at least a cop, or worst case, my sisters. Someone. Anyone who could help with my predicament.
I grabbed my soda and turned to find the house crasher leaning against the doorframe with the blanket wrapped around his waist. His face was flushed as he stared at me.
“You should be lying down,” I said, setting my drink down and hurrying to his side.
“Where’s my gun?” he growled as I lifted his arm and wrapped it around my shoulder to guide him back to the couch.
“Put away,” I answered as he plopped down onto the couch into a sitting position, almost taking me with him. “Who are you?”
His brows dipped, but he remained silent.
Silence wasn’t going to work for me.
“Don’t tell me you have amnesia,” I said, grabbing his wallet and tossing it onto his lap. He didn’t make any move to open it.
“Hugh.”
“Hugh, what?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest and trying hard not to unconsciously look toward where I was hiding the guy’s weapon.
“Hugh is all you need to know right now,” he said and began to cough. Holding his side, he grimaced as if in pain while trying to stifle the movement.
“You stay put,” I said, pointing to the couch and walking backward toward the kitchen to get him a glass of water and some pain medication.
When I returned, I found him across the room with the gun in his hand, and yet he didn’t even look strong enough to lift it. He stumbled back to the couch and sat down. “You should think of a better hiding spot next time.”
I handed him the glass of water and watched while he drank. His cheeks lost the sallow, drab appearance of an invalid.
“You aren’t going to kill me. I saved your life,” I said, sitting on the fireplace hearth again, out of his reach.
“You’re right,” he said, trying to stand again, only this time he almost fell over and caught himself with the couch. “I’ve got to get out of here.”
I gestured to the weather radio on the table. “Afraid that’s not possible. We’re kind of in the middle of a tropical storm flooding the area. Phone lines are down, too, or I would have called you an ambulance.”
The guy’s eyes started to roll in his head, and sweat beaded his brow. I crossed the room and reached to touch his forehead.
He caught my hand before I ever touched his skin. His grip tightened, biting into my wrist.
“I’m just checking to see if you have a temperature,” I said.
His jaw clenched. His eyes slightly narrowed when he loosened his grip, letting go of his hold.
I rested my knuckles on his forehead. It was burning hot to the touch.
“We need to cool you down,” I said, pulling him from the couch. “Can you make it up the stairs with my help?”
He didn’t answer. He panted, shallow and labored, but we made it upstairs. I drew him a bath. Only I was hesitant to leave him should he pass out and drown.
He didn’t give me a choice. His grip locked around my wrist, and he stared down into my eyes. His blue eyes darkened to the color of a stormy sea. “Death is coming for you, Honor Bennett, and I don’t know how to stop it.”
“Oh well. I can handle death. I’m not scheduled to die until I’m old and gray,” I said, helping him over the lip of the tub and holding him steady as he lowered into the water. I wouldn’t explain to this stranger how I knew my death wasn’t imminent. Not if it meant outing my sister, Mercy. That was her talent. She could tell when people were going to pass. She’d touched me when we were younger and told me I’d die an old woman.
Nope. I’d be keeping my family secrets intact.
He hissed at the lukewarm temperature, and I helped him down.
I tried hard not to stare at his wet boxer briefs and instead rose to stand and got him one of the many men’s toiletry kits I kept beneath my sink.
He met my gaze. “You have a lot of sleepovers?”
“My ex-boyfriend was kind of OCD about never using the same items twice. He was weird and wasteful that way, but lucky for you, I have a supply. Otherwise, you’d have to use my floral-smelling stuff.”
“I always figured Teddy wasn’t right in the head.”
I froze, and my heart skipped a beat as I slowly turned. “How do you know his name was Teddy?”
“You think that me being here is a coincidence? Honor, I wasn’t kidding when I said you’re in danger. Teddy used to talk about you all the time.”
“How do you know him?” I asked, hugging the towels protectively against my chest. Teddy was a loner when he wasn’t at work. He didn’t have many friends and no family. That was probably one of the reasons he liked me best. We both enjoyed a peaceful life. Hell, I had enough family for him to feel smothered in the event we ventured into town.
“We shared a cell together.”
“Of course, you did,” I said, backing out of the bathroom.