Hammer

9

Charlie turned off the water and came out of the shower with the towel wrapped around her. Hammer did his best to avoid looking at her.

He threw the bag of his clothes at Charlie. “Get dressed.”

Hammer looked up just to see her smooth legs as she turned to go back into the bathroom.

“Keep it together,” he muttered.

Hammer ran his hand through his hair and shook himself like a dog shedding drops from the rain.

“Get through this, and you can have all the whores you want. No commitment. No muss. No fuss.” Even as he made that promise to himself, it sounded empty.

“Eat,” Hammer said as soon as Charlie came out of the bathroom dressed and clean. He pointed to the bowl of whatever was steaming … it did not resemble food … but it would keep her sustained until she was back in safe territory.

He grabbed a blanket off the bed and laid it on the floor.

Charlie looked up from the bowl. “I don’t mind if you sleep in the bed with me. I don’t bite, and there’s plenty of room.”

“No. Finish eating, then go to bed. We have to move again in a few hours.”

Before he knew it, Charlie was in bed and breathing heavily. He quickly nodded off to sleep as well.

CHARLIE

Charlie followed Hammer into the small room. She hadn’t made a sound since the debacle in the woods. She wasn’t exactly afraid of Hammer, but she feared attracting attention.

“Go take a shower. You stink,” Hammer said. He picked up a towel and flung it at her face. She stood there for a few moments and watched him work. If this had been a normal conversation, Charlie would rib him for being so serious. But she chose to keep her mouth shut.

Charlie swished around and stomped into the bathroom. Not for Hammer. He didn’t seem to care what she was feeling. He only acted as if he wanted her alive.

But Charlie couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else between them.

Charlie slipped her clothes off and groaned. She sniffed. Yes. She did smell. She dropped the mudded and caked fabric into the garbage. She would never be able to wear those clothes again.

Luckily, she didn’t have anything that cost too much.

She reached in to turn the water on and let it heat up for a few moments.

The water beat down into the ceramic basin, sounding like rain hitting a tin roof. Charlie turned to the mirror. She stared at her reflection for a long time.

That morning, she was a Ph.D. candidate studying anthropology. She was going to be a scientist and help improve the world. Now, she was a wanted woman by people who would have already killed her if her father wasn’t so powerful and important.

A shiver crawled up Charlie’s spine. She couldn’t imagine what they would have done to Angie if she had overheard the conversation. Charlie blinked at her reflection. She didn’t even look like herself.

Tears crested over her eyelashes, and she quietly released them down her cheeks. She realized she was relieved to be the person who had heard Ajmal and Sir Barton. She was the best person to handle it.

Charlie wiped the tears from her face and shrugged the despair away. She shook out her body and looked at herself again. The tears ran through the dirt on her face, and she laughed. She looked awful, but her fire was back. Her mom had always taught her to feel her feelings but let them go quickly.

While she was sure this would be the first of many breakdowns, the road ahead wouldn’t allow her any time to cry or feel sorry for herself.

The steam picked up, and her reflection slowly faded from view.

Charlie stepped into the shower, washed away shitty feelings, and replaced them with things like Hammer and what was going on with him.

As she rinsed her hair, she began to picture his severely shaped chest. It was a nice distraction from the trauma of the day. A smile perked over her lips as she pictured what she would like to do to his body, even though he was so grumbly.

This situation was the perfect one to wash Randy out of her heart for good. She didn’t want to keep living with that ghost and was sure that s*x with a guy … even one trying to rescue her … might be a good way to do it.

Charlie didn’t want anything serious. Hammer would be a perfect choice. He would be out of her life in a few days, and they would never see each other again.

She opened her eyes. Would it complicate things? She had never been the girl who had one-night stands. However, if she was about to die, wouldn’t she deserve one good roll before it happened?

Charlie shook her head and slapped her thigh. That is ridiculous. Why would she be thinking this way right now, of all times?

Her scientific brain clicked into gear and rationalized in anthropological ways … in times of extreme situations, humans looked to distract themselves from serious threats. It was why people with PTSD sometimes didn’t remember what had happened to them. Their brain literally blocked it out of their memory.

On the other hand, some people became stuck in the moment and were tormented. Either way, the human brain did the randomized distractions when a traumatic or catastrophic event occurred.

Good. Science, Charlie thought. Keep that up, and it will keep me down, so I don’t make a fool out of myself.

But still, Hammer’s hair was something she would love to run her fingers through.

Charlie toweled off. She tucked the stiff, thin fabric so that it wrapped around her. Her dark hair hung down around her neck and dripped onto the floor. She opened the door and saw Hammer had a bag next to him and what looked to be food on the table.

She came out and stared at him.

Something deep inside her stomach clenched, and her heart yanked in Hammer’s direction. Since Charlie didn’t understand it, she said nothing. She did nothing.

Hammer turned and didn’t even look at her. He picked up the bag next to him and tossed it to her. “Get dressed.”