Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 04 - Strings of Glass by Emily Kimelman Read Free Book Online Page A

small of their backs, heads
shaking with regret.
    We rode
in silence, the Bullet purring under us. I turned off the highway toward my
place. She started to cry as we wound through the small roads. Taking one hand
off the handles I placed it over hers, clasped on my waist. “You’re safe
now,” I said.
    She
nodded against my back. “Thank you.”

SPLIT AND SWOLLEN
    L ulu,
her ears pinned to her fox-shaped head, barked as we
pulled into the driveway. She ran alongside the bike as I navigated to our
cabana. Dan stood on the veranda; warm yellow light pouring from our open door
backlit him. Blue barked and trotted over to us, joining Lulu by our side. My
heart squeezed at the thought that I was home.
    Dan came
down the steps following Blue. The woman stayed glued to me even after I turned
off the engine. “Come on,” I said. “We’re here.”
    She
raised her head off my back and looked at Dan who stood next to the bike, his
face a mask of concern. “Are you OK?” he asked,
as his eyes roamed over my face and down my body.
    I
nodded. “Yes, we’re fine now.” I patted the woman’s hands. “Come
on.”
    Her
fingers slowly unclenched and she gingerly climbed off the bike. Her legs
unsteady,
she almost fell but Dan caught her. She recoiled from him, bumping back into
me, holding the tatters of her shirt against her chest.
    I
wrapped an arm around her, just managing to keep the bike up at the same time.
Dan quickly grabbed the handles. “I’ve got it,” he said. “Take
her inside.”
    Climbing
off the bike with my arm around the woman wasn’t easy but I managed. As we
walked toward the cabana, Blue fell into an easy heel and Lulu circled us, her
ears pinned to her head with excitement. She barked and went to jump on the
woman but Blue blocked her with a growl. Lulu immediately backed off, her tail
between her legs.
    “What’s
your name?” I asked as we stepped through the open door.
    “Anita,”
she said. Her whole body was shaking as I sat her down on the bed. Dan followed
us in and stood by the door offering her some space.
    “Get
her a glass of whisky,” I said.
    Dan
complied, pulling the bottle of Kentucky Bourbon out of our closet and pouring
the woman a stiff drink. She took it with a hand that shook. “Go on,”
I said. “Drink it.” Dan looked at me and I nodded that yes, I’d like
a stiff one, too.
    He
grabbed another glass off our bureau and poured me two fingers. As he did, our
guest drank hers down in gulps. When she lowered the glass there was a fire in
her eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago.
    “Feeling
better?” I asked.
    She
nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
    “Do
you want a shower?”
    She
looked down at her torn, filthy shirt. “Yes, thank you.”
    “I’ve
got clothing you can borrow.” Dan handed me my drink and I took a big
swallow, relishing the whisky’s burn as I moved toward my dresser. When I
turned back with a clean towel, underwear, linen pants,
and a shirt, the woman’s chin was wobbling. “Come on,” I said,
taking her elbow gently. “You can have a good cry in the shower.” Her
eyes darted up to mine, brimming with tears and ringed in red. She sniffled. I
smiled at her. “It’s fine. Come on.” She followed me into the bathroom.
Placing the towel and clothing on the closed toilet lid I got the hot water
going.
    “What’s
your name?” she asked as I turned to leave.
    “Sydney,
Sydney Rye.”
    “Thank
you,” she said, the words catching in her throat.
    “You’re
welcome. I’ll see you outside. Take your time. There’s more whisky when you’re
ready.”
    She gave
me a brave smile and I left.
    Dan sat
on our bed, a fresh glass in his hand. “My
God,” he said. “What happened?”
    I sat
down next to him. He put a hand on my bare thigh and squeezed. I leaned against
him and inhaled. He smelled like sunscreen and sea salt. “She was about to
be raped,” I said, keeping my eyes shut, staying
in the dark rapture of his scent. “I stopped them and we