Chapter 6 - Distance

When Dane awoke, he woke to soft cheery singing spilling into his ears like fine silk. A woman hadn't graced his presence in weeks. Until now, that is. He made it a point to cut off every single person that knew him, spoke to him, and heard of him. To them, he was dead. To him, he was also dead.

Only an empty shell operating on means to exact revenge.

Emotions like compassion left him the moment when those dear to him ceased to exist. Yet when he peered through the security cameras and found someone battling their will to live, he found a lingering spark of compassion that resembled a man he used to know. Compassion which drove him to a moment of weakness and presumably, a lifetime of regret.

The recollection of her in her wedding gown, broken and sullied beyond repair flooded Dane's memories.

A fugitive—A rather temptress looking fugitive —now stood inside his kitchen. Her regarded her warily. Prisana. She stood barefoot, clad in his oversize black T-shirt and baggy sweats. She had long black hair that fell in massive waves against her waist with the most light brown eyes he'd ever seen.

If the woman wore an empty potato sack, she would still look pleasing. He has seen many women. Many of them beautiful. But Prisana's beauty was different. Her beauty captivated him from the the moment he first laid eyes on her unwavering striking brown eyes.

When most women see his scar they flinch or immediately distance themselves. She didn't waver as she looked straight on at his hideous scars. She radiated poise and speech much more refined and delicate than all the other women he was used to associating with. And, she was dangerous.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn't lain with a woman in months but his body responded last night when she seemed so sweet and inviting. But Dane didn't like to associate with women who had 'runaway bride' labeled on their foreheads.

He knew as much as the next man that she was off limits and clearly precious goods. The only women he ever went to bed with were soiled goods.

Dane stalked her movements from the wall, his arms folded against his chest.

"You're still here. In my kitchen. What are you making?"

Prisana's startled expression threw her off balance. A loud crash sounded throughout the small kitchen. She steadied herself and grabbed the pan at the ground. Something greatly bothered him watching her as she invaded the privacy of his cabin and the heart to his stomach. Some woman he barely knew was worming their way into his life.

"S-Sorry. Well the storm isn't settling down. I figured to ease my presence here with you, I'd be useful and cook. I'm making eggs by the way. How do you like them?"

Dane glanced out at the window. Much to his complete disdain, the storm was even worse than yesterday. A tree or two in the distance leaned and bushes toppled over as the wind and rain continued to rage on relentlessly.

Storms in New Jersey were rare but when they happened, they were long and ferocious.

Not good.

The sooner he got rid of her, the better. She didn't need to stick around to find out his story. He sure as hell didn't want to find hers out either.

"Don't tell me...The style of eggs is another personal question I shouldn't pester you about?" she asked, her nose crinkling to one side.

"Eggs over easy."

Her hands awkwardly fumbled on the stove handles. She set the pan onto the stove and huffed and puffed a smile once she managed to successfully place the pan on the stove. No sooner when the smile appeared, it left. She proceeded to crack an egg but all the shells crumbled and fell to pieces inside.

"Would you like some help?"

"Don't laugh. Can you show me how to crack an egg?"

Her face was turned down in embarrassment, rightfully so. A sheltered miss? Dane believed normal people like himself first learned to cook eggs as their first dish. Still he didn't question her. He didn't want to know why she's never cracked an egg in her life. Rather he didn't care to know.

Dane's body raked around her small petite form, predator over prey. Suddenly he was aware of how good she smelled, like lavender hindered by scent of pine trees and musk. Her nape was also slender and bare, ripe for smothering. He watched her ears turned red and nipples in her shirt perking up enticingly.

Trying to appear distant, he ushered her body to the side. Then he grabbed the egg from one of her hands and positioned the shell against the bowl edges. She watched on in dumbfounded amazement at the sheer easiness of cracking an egg.

If she couldn't crack an egg then she wouldn't be able to process eggs over easy.

"Let me take over. You can just sit."

She shook her head. Stubborn woman.

"Please. Sit," he motioned at the wooden chair off to the side. "I don't want my cabin dissolved to flames and ashes."

Prisana finally complied by walking over to the dining chair and took a seat. She breathed a sigh of relief as she was in one spot where she could watch and make sure nothing was going to explode. She wanted to be useful. Dane wanted her to be gone and out of his life. The raging weather sure wasn't helping much with the situation.

"You must think I'm a sheltered snob," she draws out in what sounds like embarrassment.

"I don't think anything of you. You might have your own reasons and frankly, I don't think I care about that either."

"Ha. You don't seem to care about anything."

"I used to. You learn to stop when life fucks you over so much."

"You cared enough to help me out in that storm."

"Again. I didn't want your dead body on my property. Don't get so ahead of yourself."

By now Dane presumed she was becoming sick and tired of him. Good. He was beginning to grow sick and tired of her endless attempts to make small conversation with him.

He wasn't a man of many words and when he did speak, nothing but the despicable truth came out. No sugar coating. No games. That's not the kind of men she was used to. She didn't need to get used to those kind of men. Of him.

"You don't have to make conversation with me."

Her voice grew more distant, more reserved. "Well excuse me for seeking human interaction. It's only you and I until this storm calms down so I figured I'd try and get to know you more."

"Stop figuring things," he said coldly while setting down the eggs and bacon in front of her. "I'll drive you to the nearest town, or rather the nearest phone booth after you eat."

Prisana pushed away the meal he prepared for her. Now he's done it. Somehow he felt like a beast who after countless attempts has finally managed to harm his prey. Her pretty brown eyes were streaked with brimming tears but she didn't break down. Instead her fierce gaze met his, letting him know that he hurt her and that now she was angry.

"That's not necessary. You can drive me now. I lost my appetite and I've grown entirely sick of this cabin."

Sick of Dane. She brushed past his shoulder and went into the bathroom. Was he too harsh? No. He gave her what she deserved. The truth. For her to realize that he was a despicable man who wanted nothing to do with her. There was no more room for heartache. No more room for liabilities. Only room for careful deliberation.