The Dancer

21. The Cabin

Malcolm hadn't expected snow to fall so soon in Montana. Two weeks before Thanksgiving and yet the snow fell down like rain poured in a rain forest. He had never been in the state during this time of year and his ignorance of Montana weather had smacked him in the face.

Sara was in awe of Malcolm's cabin in Montana. It was huge and extremely gorgeous. The rustic style decor made it feel homey yet the woods surrounding the place reminded her how secluded they were.

Sara walked into the great room slowly with Malcolm in toe. She held a tight nervous grip onto her shoulder bag as her eyes examined the foreign place.

"I'll give you the tour tomorrow. Lets get you to bed," he says gesturing to the staircase she had walked passed.

She followed him up the L-shaped staircase to and imediately straight across the banister to a bedroom.

It was huge, minimalistic decor but homey nonetheless. The large california king bed was decorated in Malcolm's usual grey colors.

"Wheres the bathroom?" Sara asks. Malcolm gestures to a door beside her and she hurries inside, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Her period was light and she was thankful for it. Her birth control dosage had been moved up and it seemed to be working extremely well.  After washing her hands, she went back into the bedroom.

Malcolm laid at the edge of the bed, his shirt was off and his slacks were unbuttoned and his belt was off. His feet planted on the floor yet he was laying down staring at the ceiling. He looked stressed, exhausted and Sara felt at fault.
Slowly walking to him she notices his eyes are slowly closing and opening as he is tired. Biting her lip she analyzes her fault. She'd disrupted his life. Her stalker had caused not only her trouble but also Sara felt guilty about it.

"I'm sorry," she says.

Malcolm jolts up into a sitting position, his eyes wider now as if she had just woken him up.

"What?" He asks.

"I'm sorry, for having you do all this for me. If I hadn't been careful-"

"No," he says sternly all but yelling. "You have nothing to be sorry about. We've been over this, Sara. You are the victim in this. As for me traveling out here to keep you safe, I'd do it in a heartbeat no matter the circumstance. Having you out here with me, only me gives me peace. I know you are safe and I can have you with me all the time. You are doing me a favor," he chuckles.

Sara looks down at her feet as if embarassed.

"Come to bed, sweetheart. Sleep next to me," he says kicking off his shoes.

Sara kicks off her sneakers and socks. Still wearing a pair of leggings and a large tshirt, Sara climbs onto the bed beside Malcolm.

Malcolm pulls her to his chest, her head ender his chin. Her hands glide down the ridges of his abs slowly. The bumps of his well defined muscles sends thoughts running through her head.

How strong is he? He could probably throw me out a window.

"I wouldn't, I could because you're small, but I wouldn't," Malcolm chuckles.

She curses herself for saying her thoughts aloud.

"How many fist fights have you gotten into?" She asks.

Malcolm laughs. "You assume I've been in fist fights?"

She looks up at him with a look thats blatantly says: "we both know you have."

Malcolm smirks. "My anger spiked in college. My friend Mads and I have gotten into over twenty fist fights, the majority being in college. He'd beat the shit out of me and I'd beat the shit out of him then we'd go get a beer."