The Fixer Sneak Peek

For the first time in days, she didn’t feel like she was on the run or being hunted. She was on an island in the middle of nowhere and no one but one person knew where she was. There was something comforting about it. She could hear rustling and zipping while Luke moved about the room. She smelled the chili when he took it off the fire. She heard the pipes rattle as the water started running again.

Feeling Luke's hand on her forehead, Lauren opened her eyes. “You had fallen asleep,” he mentioned. “I was just checking that you weren’t sick. You should eat.”

He had changed into a dry pair of gray flannel pajamas with thick wool socks. He handed her a cup of hot green tea and she sipped it gratefully. Next to her was a pair of flannel pajamas and wool socks for her to change into. She slipped the bottoms on while his back was turned. The cold floor had accosted her poor feet. She was happy to put on the wool socks even though there was a slight roughness to them. She unzipped her jacket and pulled off the sweater. She didn’t bother taking off her undershirt, she needed all she could get.

After she had changed he brought her the chili. To her surprise, it was topped with cheese and had a hunk of artisan bread on the side.

“Where did this come from?” she asked right before she shoved a warm spoonful into her mouth. This definitely didn’t taste like canned chili. He had obviously done some voodoo in the kitchen. The kitchen which she figured was empty since no one had been in it.

“I did some bare minimum grocery shopping before I went to pick you up. Luckily it was cold enough to keep in the trunk.”

Interesting. She couldn’t help staring at him as if he was some strange, magnificent creature that both intrigued and terrified her. “Well, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“It doesn’t taste canned.”

“I put some other stuff in there. I figured you’ve suffered enough.”

“So, is this place always empty?” she gestured around the large room, it’s low key fine furnishings screamed wealth.

“Not always. I lease or rent it out. It gets very busy over the summer. And for a small island with lots of privacy, people pay decent.” He was sitting next to her. His large feet firmly planted on the floor and a blanket wrapped around his own shoulders. There was a low coffee table in front of them where he placed their drinks.

She watched his large, nondescript hands. But watching them deftly break a piece of bread, dip it into his chili and then move it to his luscious lips excited and frightened her. He looked like and spoke like a normal guy. An upper-middle class man who carried himself well and spoke with poise and respect was sitting next to her. But something about him wreaked of danger and mystery.

“Is something wrong?” he asked her.

Averting her eyes and feeling embarrassed for staring she shook her head. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“What is it that you want to know?” he asked before he sat back against the cold leather.

Her head whipped around. “So I can ask anything?”

“You can always ask anything, I might not answer.”

Nodding, she frowned to herself and stared at her chili. The warmth permeated through the burnt orange bowl. She could feel a fine detail etching below her finger. She wondered what it was and lifted the bowl above her to see a sparrow and the initials LS. “Are these handmade?” She looked inside and noticed the smooth curve and slopes of the bowl. The way the orange faded to white on the very bottom. This was craftsmanship. This bowl took patience to make.

“Yes, they are handmade.”

“By you?” she guessed.

“Yes.”

She had guessed the last part because of the L. She had a new appreciation for the vessel holding her chili. Lauren had done pottery once, many years ago in high school. It was one of her most favorite and most hated electives. But it was very rewarding. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Thank you.”

She ate some more, her fingers tracing the etching as she tried to formulate exactly what she wanted to know. She had a feeling that if she asked something serious, Luke would be a man of few words, if any. But she had a right to know what was going on and what was happening to her. Didn’t she? After finishing her chili, she was careful when she placed the bowl on the table next to her drink. Luke had already gotten up to stoke the fire, and place a few more logs. He picked up her bowl and went to the kitchen to clean the dishes.

The heat from the fire started to heat the room. With a full belly and being nestled in the blankets, Lauren couldn’t stay awake. Finally, she was calm enough to sleep.

When Lauren opened her eyes, she was still in the same place. On the floor in front of the couch, Luke was sleeping in a sleeping bag. She blinked her eyes, the fire had turned to embers, but there was gray light filtering in around the thermal curtains hanging in front of the huge windows. She stretched and groaned.

Feeling pressure, she was careful to step over Luke before she tiptoed as fast as she could to the bathroom. She went to flip the light and nothing happened. So she pulled up large bathroom blinds above the toilet to let some light filter in. She had to pee so bad.

The yelp that escaped her lips couldn’t be helped. The toilet seat was freezing and she was already midstream when she jumped in surprise. She sat back down in her own pee, the toilet seat threatening to burn her ass off.

“Fucking shit,” she whispered to herself. After finishing she tried her best to clean up what she could, but there wasn’t much light at all. “I’ll clean it later,” she murmured to herself. What she didn’t want was walking in with wet pants and smelling like morning piss.

She remembered the duffle bags that were still in the dining room. She figured the clothes came from there. She flushed and washed her hands and then tiptoed into the dining room. Luke was either sleeping or faking, but she hoped he wouldn’t get angry.

She felt the first bag and felt the softness. Being as careful as she could, she pulled on the zipper and dug one hand in, hoping the first thing she pulled out would be pants or bottoms of any kind.

She felt rolls of fluff and assumed socks, she dug past them and stopped. The fluff balls led to hard, cold metal. Her hand snapped back as if it was on fire. That was a gun.

“You probably shouldn’t go through other people’s things without permission.”

If she hadn’t already peed, she would have then when her feet left the hardwood and her heart hit the vaulted ceiling.

“I’m sorry,” she said, clutching her shirt over her heart. “I was too embarrassed to wake you.”

“Liar.” His voice vibrated with a threat when he pushed to a stand and glared at her.

“No, I’m not,” she was surprised by the coldness in his voice. 

Luke stalked toward her with slow careful steps. He continued to glare at her when he grabbed the bag from her and pulled it open. He showed her a large gun and slammed it onto the table.

The noise made her jump again and she raised her hands in the air. She shook her head. “I wasn’t trying to snoop. I needed pants, honest to god.”

“Interesting how everyone always brings up God when they feel their life is in danger,” he observed.

Her insides liquified. She couldn’t help the tears that had gathered and threatened to fall, blurring him from her vision. So this is what she was going to have to put up with.

She swallowed and blinked, a tear fell and she wiped it away, willing him to forget he had seen it. His green eyes were cold as he stared her down. Taking in a deep breath and deciding that she had to exchange one humiliation for another, she spilled. “The toilet was cold. It made me jump and I peed all over my pants. I just didn’t want to be walking around and sitting on your furniture with piss all over me.” Feeling furious that he had scared her and that she had allowed herself to be afraid, she pulled down her pants and pulled off her socks, and threw them at him. “Not that that was humiliating enough. Thanks for making me feel like shit on top of it all.”