You're My Home (completed)

Chapter One

Copyright © 2016 Holly Slattery

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without the written permission of the author.

Chapter One

Rachel found herself compelled to open the front door of the small trailer she called home. She paused when the chilly breeze washed over her. Still half inside and half on the porch, she waited to hear the terrible sound again. She had a nearly hypnotic pull to walk further into the dark night, like someone was shoving her from behind to do so. She fought the strange urge, her brow tight and eyes searching.

Seconds passed and there was no other scream. The first scream had shaken her to the bone. Rachel suspected she'd imagined it, or that the storm caused her to think it was a scream. But deep in her gut, she knew better. Someone was out there. She clenched her pocket knife harder, its blade extended.

It hadn't rained yet, but the black sky trembled with random flashes of light and seemed to roar in warning of what was to come. The clouds were packing together, and Rachel hoped the trailer would survive. She felt unsettled. Her hands didn't shake, which was uncommon for her. Instead the shakiness had passed to her legs.

The second distant cry sent her bolting off the porch with her heart in her throat. She ran across the yard in her pajamas, focusing on the place she was being compelled to investigate. There were no other trailers around for a couple miles, so any assistance would be unlikely.

She stumbled to a halt. Her eyes stared in fear at what crouched on the lawn. It was a man, though the massive white wings protruding from his back said otherwise. He sat with his knees tucked to his chest. His hands were gripping his head, digging his fingers into his blonde hair. His back was turned toward her, giving her a clear view of the impossible feathery wings. He groaned loudly in obvious pain. One other thing became clear-he was naked.

Her gaze was unblinkingly fixed on him. One moment the lightening had illuminated her view, the next she could only make out his shadowy form. The wings were gone, like she'd imagined the whole thing. She stood stunned, unable to take her eyes off him. Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered to breathe.

The man spun around as if he'd heard her take in a shaky breath. Rachel's throat contracted around the scream that was building. She extended her knife outward.

Yes, he was definitely naked. Though it was dark, his skin reflected the light that streamed from her house. He was astoundingly taller than almost anyone Rachel knew. Though his body shape was lean, he was packed with gleaming muscle. But his expression is what stopped Rachel from sprinting for the house. From what she could see, he looked scared. It didn't make sense.

Rachel's fear was disintegrating, like sand falling through fingers. Just then, he crumbled to the ground and let out a guttural moan. His hands flew to his head as though he was having a massive migraine. As Rachel watched, it looked like he might rip his hair out.

"Are you okay?" she stammered.

She found herself kneeling beside him. He answered her stupid question with a groan of pain. She hesitantly touched his shoulder. Pure rock hard muscle lay beneath his skin. The way he felt under her palm was so familiar that Rachel frowned at the nagging Deja vu.

"You're freezing," she said, mostly to herself. A few seconds later she added, "What's wrong with you?"

He managed to shake his head in response. "Help me!" he choked, his voice gruff with agony.

Now there was no doubt she knew this man. She knew that voice, and she knew his earthy smell. Rachel grabbed his hand and tried to get up, tugging him along with her.

He leaned against her for support. His weight made her dig her flip flops into the dirt. She held his hand firmly, but his crushing grip forced her fingers to ease up. They walked the short distance to her beaten down truck at the pace of a snail. By the time they reached the passenger's side, Rachel's ears hurt from his screams, and her fingers were sore.

She loaded him into the truck, trying not to see anything of his that was below the waist. He barely fit inside.

"Wait..." he hoarsely whispered. "Where are you taking me?"

She studied his face, the passenger door still open-ready to be shut. Whatever pain he was in seemed to be lessening.

She could see his features more clearly at this angle. Gosh, he was breath taking. His large blue eyes peered down at her behind weary lids.

Just then, the heavens parted and almost instantly drenched her with rain.

"I'm taking you to the hospital!" she shouted over the storm.

She saw protest in his gaze, but slammed the door and jogged around the truck to slide into her seat. With slippery hands, she patted the floor and found her keys.

The man tried to sit up, but failed. "I can't go there..." he said, making an effort to swallow.

It took Rachel a few attempts to get the key into the ignition. "You can and you will. You need a doctor."

His hand met her forearm. A feeling of unease tensed her lower belly. She froze, pinning him with a questioning look.

His expression was fearful again-pleading. "Don't take me there. I need to stay here."

The way he said here made it sound like it was vital to his safety.

"Why?"

He glanced around as if his surroundings frightened him. Finally, his gaze locked on hers.

"I...can't...leave!" He spaced each word, his powerful jaw clenching at the end.

Rachel's knife was in her lap, and she would use it if he tried anything. But that was like saying a golden retriever puppy was dangerous. No, this man was certainly no puppy, but he emanated goodness. She was in no harm. Though Rachel's heart told her this, her mind wasn't as quick to listen.

"Well, you're not staying here!" she clarified.

His brow shot up. "I...I'm not going to try anything sinful on you. I wouldn't..."

He appeared genuinely hurt by her obvious distrust. He acted like she'd just stabbed him in the heart, for goodness sake!

Rachel was all too aware that his hand still rested on her arm. She tore her gaze from his and turned the key, her movements making him withdraw his hand. The truck gave a disgruntled sound. She tried once more, and this time it roared to life. She sighed in relief, though just as relief struck, the engine died.

"You have got to be kidding me." A few flashes of lightening crackled and thunder bellowed through the countryside. Rachel cranked the key again and again. "It's never done this before!"

The man beside her had gone still. Hoping he hadn't died or anything, she shyly glanced his way. When she saw he was looking at her, she crossed her arms and looked away.

"Don't look at me," she snapped. If Rachel had turned her head a fraction more toward him, she would have seen his lips pull into a small amused smile.