Love in Dreams: Rescue (7 page)

Cass pushes back from the table.

“These aren’t real,” she says, shaking her head. “These are dreams.
You don’t exist.”

“They’re very real,” he says. “I can communicate with you on
what I can only call a different frequency.”

Cass giggles. She can’t stop. “A sixth sense!” she says,
giddy and delirious. It sounds like the funniest thing she’s ever said and she
can’t stifle her laughter.

The man simply nods. “You could say that.”

“I can’t believe I invented a talking wolf,” Cass continues.
“I’m fucking losing it. Are you the voice in my head? Do you keep telling me
what to do?”

“No, Cass.”

Cass remembers the heat from the dreams. Instantly, she
feels the intense lust that bound the two of them together. It twists in her
gut like the pain of a lost love.

“Ohhhhhh,” Cass moans, squeezing her arms harder over her
peaked nipples and bending over. The man across the table triggers something in
her that she can’t understand.

The man waits for her to recover, then says, “See, Cass?
There’s something between us. I feel that connection, too.”

Cass collects herself and straightens. “Is that why you
tried to rip my throat out?”

The man looks down at his folded hands. “I am very sorry
about that, Cass. I couldn’t control myself. It’s part of the reason I’ve been
alone for so long.”

Cass looks up at the bland ceiling tiles above, as if
seeking answers.

“So why are we here this time?” she asks. “Why aren’t we
pawing at each other’s clothes?”

“I only wanted to talk with you,” he says. “To explain.
Everything. If you’ll give me a chance.”

Cass laughs again, harshly this time.

“So you want to suck me into this daydream, tell me you’re a
wolfman, and then
talk?
”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

“Don’t bite my neck, for one thing,” Cass says. “Jesus
Christ. The things I imagine. If you’re real, why don’t you show yourself as a
man out there, in reality?”

The man’s eyes are a softer green now. There is deep sorrow
there. Even Cass can see it; the man is tormented by something. He slumps in
his chair. In a flash, she feels every ounce of his crushing remorse, and it
takes her breath away.

“I can tell you everything,” he says. “All of it. And I can
help you, Cass. But the one thing I can never do is assume my human form. Never
again. Not since – ”

Cass shakes her head, fighting off a primal connection she
refuses to acknowledge. “Great. Of course. What exactly will you help me with,
then? Serve as my invisible secret friend? I can’t do this. Collin, is it? I
can’t do this today. You need to let me out of this. Whatever it is. It’s too
much. Brain, turn this off!”

“But Cass you have to believe – ”

“Now!”

“Don’t trust him, Cass!”

But Cass doesn’t hear Collin’s last shout. She stands up
from the table so abruptly her chair tips over. In a flash, the entire room
vanishes. Two soft green dots glow for a moment, and fade away.

Cass expects triumph. She feels only despair. Something has
been ripped from her. She is flooded with a profound sense of longing. She
turns slowly, looking for Collin. There is only blackness. Her chest hurts as
if her lungs have been filled with frigid air. Each breath turns her veins into
stabbing rivers of ice, and she can’t stop shaking.

~~~

Cass didn’t wake up or regain consciousness – she simply
realized she was sitting up straight on the couch, staring out at the lake. It
was almost as if nothing had happened. Her shoes were on the floor. The wolf had
left the living room; she heard his claws clicking on the kitchen linoleum as
he headed for the back room.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Cass pulled on her shoes and jumped up from the couch with
newfound determination. She walked quickly to the back room, grabbed the wolf’s
chain, and clipped it to his collar before he could even raise his head from
the dusty floor.

“Enough of this,” she said. “You’re messing with my head,
whatever you are, or whatever you’re doing here. Step one, get you outside.
You’re nothing but a wolf. Plain old wolf. You belong out there, anyway. Out of
sight, out of mind.”

The wolf rose to its feet. Cass took three quick steps to
the door, whipped it open, and walked outside with the animal in tow.

With Collin in tow? A werewolf? Wolfman? She brushed the
thoughts aside. Her subconscious was running roughshod over her rational mind.
She needed to settled down and relax. Obviously, Officer Lincoln’s false alarm
had caused a minor panic attack.

Cass led the wolf to the rear of the cabin, near her car,
and looped the chain through an iron ring in the cabin’s foundation. She
clicked Wanda’s old padlock shut and gave the wolf one last look before going
back inside. He stood sullenly near the cabin and pawed at the ground.

“You cannot understand me,” Cass said. “You are a
wolf
.”

The wolf turned to look at her. His eyes pulsed and Cass
felt herself growing woozy again.

“No, goddammit!” she shouted. “This is not happening, not
today. Goodbye, wolf. When animal control opens on Monday we’re going to be right
on their doorstep.”

Cass spun on her heel and jogged back inside. She could see
the wolf from a kitchen window; she watched as he circled twice and slumped to
the ground.

“What-
ever
,” Cass whispered. “Stupid wolf.”

For the rest of the day, Cass deliberately ignored anything
happening outside the frame of the living room’s picture window. She read an
old romance novel from the small bookshelf in the hallway, skimming through
until the heroine hogtied her love interest and teased him with a feather before
lustily sealing the deal.

After lunch she popped “The Breakfast Club” into the VCR and
treated herself to a cold beer and a bag of potato chips, then another cold
beer to wash the saltiness down and to add a buzz to the second half of the
movie. She felt the morning’s anxiety ease, and the calm that washed over her
in the shower returned. By evening she was humming as she threw together a
quick dinner. She stayed anchored to the couch for a Sunday night made-for-TV
movie on the solitary, static-fuzzed channel that came in over the set’s bent
rabbit ears.

The credits rolled. Cass was still wide awake. The picture
window was dark, and Cass wondered if the wolf could extend the chain far
enough to peek inside. What was she thinking? The thing was asleep, or staring
out at the moon somewhere like wolves do.

Cass stretched her arms over her head until her shoulders
ached. She’d get everything down on a list for the next day, she decided, and
knock out all the annoying chores before lunch.

Animal control? Check.

Police station for a quick talk with Officer Lincoln? Check.

Phone company? Check.

She was so busy scribbling notes to herself that the first
firm bump on the back door barely registered in the farthest reaches of her
mind. She passed it off as the well pump kicking on, and didn’t even lift her
pencil from the paper.

The second sound was the crash of the back door splintering.

Cass dropped her notepad and pencil and stood. The back room
wasn’t lit, and only a small candle flickered in the kitchen. She heard heavy
footsteps pounding the floorboards. She ran toward the bathroom but was stopped
cold by the voice.

His voice.

“Oh, Caaa-aassssssss,” Preston said, loud and sarcastic. “I
hope you have something good for dinnn-nnerrrrr.”

Cass couldn’t move.

Preston’s looming shape appeared among the shadows near the
kitchen table.

“There you are, sweetie,” he said, a sick smile glinting in
the candlelight. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Cass’s throat went dry. “How did you find me?” she rasped. She
backed up to the wood stove in the living room, reaching behind her for the
iron poker that was leaning against it.

“Oh, it was easy,” he said. “As soon as I realized you were
gone, I started to do a little digging. Amazing what they’ll put online these
days. So, so sorry about Grandma Danby passing away on November 17, 2007. A
crying shame. My new friend in town tells me it was quite sudden.”

Cass’s fingers groped frantically for the poker.

“Then I did a little property records search at the tax
assessor’s, and voila! A magical secret cabin appeared! And where else would my
silly little
stupid
Cass go?” Preston’s voice twisted into something
cruel that he wielded like a weapon. He walked slowly toward her. “Did you
really think you could get away? Did you, Cass?”

Preston came into the light of the living room and Cass saw
how haggard he was. He must not have slept since she left. His face was
darkened by a five o’clock shadow, and his eyes looked hollowed and empty. He
wore dirty black jeans, work boots, and a plain gray t-shirt. He flexed his
hands, forming fists and then relaxing, over and over.

Cass still couldn’t find the damn poker. She tried to buy
time.

“It was a surprise,” she said shakily. “Do you like it? I
was going to tell you, I swear. I wanted us to have a little fall getaway. I
came up to clean the place, make sure the power was on and stuff.”

Preston took a quick stride forward. He was only a few feet
away now. He scanned the room warily, as if he thought someone was lurking
nearby. Once he realized they were alone, he closed the final gap.

“Save your bullshit, you little bitch,” he growled. He
grabbed Cass by her shoulders and shook her. Her hand grazed the poker and
knocked it over, the iron clanging against the wood stove’s metal frame like a
dinner bell.

“Oh, now what’s this?” Preston said. “What were you planning
to do with
that?
” With the last word, Preston gripped Cass hard and
shoved her toward the back of the couch, so violently that she fell forward and
her face slammed into the gap between the two seat cushions. She was stunned
momentarily, long enough that Preston was behind her with his hands on her hips
before she could react.

Cass tried to regain her feet. Preston planted one hand on
her neck and shoved her back down. He pressed against her ass and mashed her
into the couch’s wooden back until her hipbones pulsed with sharp pain.

“Now,” he whispered savagely, “you’re going to give me what
I deserve.” With his free hand he jerked hard on the back of Cass’s jeans. The
front button popped off and Preston kept tugging until the denim was around her
knees and her thin cotton panties were all that stood between her sex and his
raw anger.

“Oh yes yes
yes
,” Preston moaned. He cupped Cass’s
ass and squeezed it hard, slapping each cheek before shoving his fingers
between her legs and curling them up against her as she tried to wriggle free.

“Help!” Cass screamed, staring at the perverse scene
reflected in the picture window. Preston loomed behind her, one huge arm
pinning her down. He worked hastily on his own pants. He freed himself and she
felt the warmth of his hard member against her ass.

“Help! Mmmff –” Cass tried to cry out again but Preston
shoved her head into the seat cushion and pressed her down hard. The force
tipped her further up on the couch’s back. Preston slipped a finger under the
waistband of her panties and ripped them down so fast that the tight fabric
tore cleanly away from her thighs and left her shaking and bare.

Fight, Cass. Fight!

Cass flailed her legs and arms, but Preston was too big. He
continued shoving her into the couch, repelling every attempt at escape, until
Cass was panting and spent. He seemed to enjoy the struggle. When she finally
stopped to catch her breath, he slid a hand between her thighs and massaged her
with deceptive gentleness.

“Such a good, tight pussy, Cass. I’ve always liked that
about you. But maybe tonight you’ll give up that ass. What do you say to that?”

He traced a finger higher, and higher again, until he was
pressing against her outer lips and dancing along a thin trail of moisture that
made Cass shudder. How could she be
wet?
He shoved a finger deep,
suddenly, twisting and probing and groaning as Cass bucked vainly to free
herself.

Preston started breathing faster. He withdrew his damp finger
and slid it toward her tight pucker. Cass clenched hard, reflexively, fighting
until the very last.

“Get ready, Cass,” he said. “You’re going to love this. I
know how much you want it. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move. Can’t
walk. Can’t breathe. And then I’m going to haul this sweet little ass back to
St. Paul and do it again.”

“No, please no,” Cass moaned into the pillow. “No, Preston.”

“What’s that? You want it extra hard? Okay, then...”

Cass could feel Preston rear back. She squeezed her eyes
shut and gripped the sofa cushions, praying for Preston to at least be quick.

“What the – ?” Preston’s voice caught in his throat.

Cass opened her eyes in time to see the wolf’s powerful paws
make contact with the picture window. For a moment he was suspended there. Time
had stopped. Their eyes met; his were a preternatural orange-red, hers were
wide with surprise.

Then the window shattered.

The wolf hit the floor in front of the couch and immediately
leapt high over the coffee table and Cass, crashing into Preston with a
sickening thud. She heard the sound of Preston hitting the floor, punctuated
quickly by the hard crack of skull on hardwood. She rolled forward on to the
couch and jumped to her feet.

Brutal, savage noises filled the living room: growling, the
sound of bones snapping like twigs, a gurgled cry, a high-pitched “No!” and a
muffled scream that could have come from a small child. Preston’s cries grew
more panicked, and in only a few seconds they were garbled, frantic nonsense
spilling out between horrific howls.