SIW Adam & Bronwille: Ch 03 : Soul Searching and Planning

Chapter Three : Soul Searching and Planning.

Adam was running at full speed, low branches hitting his sides, his snout. He didn't care, he just needed to get rid of this anger. This helplessness he felt after reading each paragraph of Bron's story. He had seen a lot of things in his lifetime, but he couldn't understand that a human being could do this to another and gloat about it.

He growled at his phantom enemy, wanting revenge, wanting to get even. At the same time, a lot of his own phantoms came back to the surface. Things Adam hoped he would have learned to put behind him. Sadly that was not the case. Reading her story had opened up his Pandora's Box of feelings he would have rather kept buried, preferably even forgotten.

Faces flashed before his eyes, men he lost, most due to the enemy, and one that he was to blame for.

Sitting at the lake he howled his grief and pain for those he lost, he howled for those he couldn't help. Slowly he was changing back into the person he used to be. His wolf stopped him, for once being the saner one. We need our mate, then all will be well, his wolf kept telling him over and over again until he started to calm down.

Shifting to human form he sat down and stared into the distance, taking in his surroundings. He counted himself very lucky knowing the Whelan brothers and he sure appreciated them allowing him to run on their lands. Not many packs would allow that. Two out of the three are mated now; one already had a little one on the way.

Thinking about them had momentarily shifted his attention away from his anger. Bron sprung forward in his mind. Closing his eyes he took a few deep breaths, forcing himself to stay calm. He counted to ten, once, twice. Only after the fifth time, did he trust himself enough to bring forth what he had read in her second chapter.

The pain, the abuse, the humiliation … it was hard for him to give this a place but he had to, for Bron's sake as well as his own. Little by little he went over her story and picked out details he was sure would be of use. No matter what she had to tell in her third and last chapter, no way that he was going to let things be as they were or had been.

No way was he going to be able to let that scum get away with what they did to his Bron. He had to admire her for her strength, it was no easy feat working through the ordeal she was forced through and doing it on her own. Maybe she didn't realize it but she was strong, stronger then she gave herself credit for.

Thinking back to what Mia had told him, strengthened his beliefs. Finally getting a grip on his emotions he knew he had to read the rest. He needed to know what happened. Shifting back to wolf, he then let out one long howl, calling out for his mate; letting her now he was here.

He quickly turned and raced back to his bike, glad to find his clothes still next to it. Haphazardly he put them on and made a quick bike ride home. When he entered his flat, he smiled when he saw his computer was still turned on.

Adam sat down, opened her story page and sat there. His wolf was still pacing, he hadn't settled down completely. He contemplated waiting to read this last part, but he knew that would only be stalling the inevitable. Better to get this over with so he knew everything. Not really everything, but what she wanted to share.

As he opened the third chapter, he noticed it wasn't as long as the other two. He felt a bit relieved. Adam was sure if he was forced to read another chapter like the other two, he would completely loose it.

After reading the first paragraph he let out his breath he didn't knew he was holding back. Focused he read the ending of "Broken Bones".

* * * *

* * * *

 

Broken Bones Chapter Three By RedB 

Amelia woke to a very bright light and a pounding headache. For a moment she feared this was another torture device that Rubin had thought up until a soft, warm hand touched her face.

“Shhh, you’re safe now sweetie. It’s all right. You’re safe.”

Amelia couldn’t open her eyes, and when her shaking hand raised up to explore why, she felt that both of them were swollen shut and so was her trembling lip that her fingers traced on its way back to the bed.

“Wh-appened to ee,” she mumbled through her swollen lips.

“You don’t remember?” the nurse asked.

“Wh-am I?”

“Mt. Cloud Hospital. Three days ago a van pulled up and dumped you on the door steps of the emergency room. You had no ID and no clothes. Not to mention you were near death from whatever it was they did to you. Thankfully, you’d been drugged so you probably didn’t feel much of the pain.”

Amelia stifled a cry as the memories flooded back through her mind, causing her to want to curl into a ball, but the pain from every inch of her body was enough to keep her motionless. The woman pressed a button and the IV unit by the bed beeped as the morphine drip kicked in.

 “There you go, darling. That should help. Let me get the police officer whose been waiting for you to wake up. Maybe you can describe the men who did this to you.”

“Nah, nah nah,” she moaned, “No more,” she tried to say but the nurse was already gone. Moments later a man arrived in a crisp blue police uniform and as he approached, his eyes said it all. She was a mess and he pitied her.

“Miss? I’m Officer Moore. Can you tell me your name?”

“Amelia Rice.”

“Do know what happened to you?” he asked as he assumed a chair near the bed and kept his voice low because he could see her wincing from the sound of his voice.

“Yes,” she moaned and prayed he’d go away. Being around a man, any man for that matter at the moment was near panic inducing.

“Do you know who did this to you?”

“Don’t ‘member” she mumbled.

“Miss, we can’t help you unless you help us. What is his name?”

Amelia looked away and cringed. Luckily, she’d never told Rubin where she lived and always met him in public locations, but she was terrified he’d find her if she talked. So Amelia kept her silence.

The cop sighed seeing her hesitation, “Listen, I know this is not the best time to be asking you, so I will leave my card with the nurses. If you change your mind and wish to press charges, you call me, all right?”

Amelia kept her eyes trained on the opposite wall and began counting the dots in the wall paper to keep from answering his question.

“I’ll wait for your call, Miss Rice. No one should get away with this treatment. I’ll be there when you’re ready to talk.”

She waited until the door clicked shut before she let her tears fall. She should have told him. She should have screamed Rubin’s name so loud it rattled the walls. But she knew that would only bring him back. So she kept her own council and waited while her body healed enough for her to go home.

Co-workers from work had finally heard about her situation and flowers started arriving and a few female work friends stopped by see how she was doing. It was shallow really, because they weren’t really there for her, only doing what was polite. She didn’t talk much and endured their visits, but she did learn one thing – Rubin had quit. He up and walked out the day after her disappearance and no one had seen him since. That should have given her peace, but all it did was make her watch over her shoulder that he could show up at any time.

A week flew by and she finally was released home. There was no one to pick her up and so she ended up calling that cop that left his card with the nurses and he gladly came to give her a ride.

“Ready to talk yet Miss Rice?”

She dipped her head to hide her eyes, “No, Officer Moore. I’m not.”

“Just tell me this,” he challenged at a stop light. His torso turned partially to her and he smiled, “Was it the 3 Checker Gang?”

“3 Checker?” She’d never heard that name before.

He studied her for a moment and surveyed her reaction for any false sincerity, finding nothing. “You’d know them if it were them. They party hard, have zero respect for women and enjoy all acts of torture. You’d be the first woman to get away from them alive, and if you are, I’d dearly love to get the fucking bastards. But I’d need your help.”

The only woman to get out alive.

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember much,” she said meekly and looked away.

Officer Moore snorted, “I could protect you, you know. Place you in protective services. Make it so they could never touch you, Miss Rice.”

“No, you couldn’t. I’m sorry. I don’t remember anything to help you.”

He’d finally arrived at her place and helped her inside where he lingered for too long before he got the hint and left her alone. He pinned his card and his personal number to her wall and left with a worried glance. She was curled up on the couch and didn’t even acknowledge him when he shut the door behind him.

+ + + +

An insistent tapping lulled her out of her memories. It was urgent and forceful and really, really annoying. When she rolled her head to the side of her bed towards the window, she saw that crow sitting on a branch watching her.

It was creepy but the thing really looked like it was trying to help her. When she smiled at it, showing the bird she was all right, it stopped pecking the glass and cawed loudly, watching her with that black beady eye.

“I’m back. Thank you.”

It sounded again and hopped back and forth on the branch.

“You’re freaking me out, crow. I know I’m broken, but you can’t put me back together. You can’t.”

The crow screeched and suddenly flew off the branch and out of sight, “Finally,” but the sound of the mail man jolted her for a moment. So that was what scared the bird off.

It had been three months since the attack and she just couldn’t face work or any people at all, so she had taken a leave of absence and sequestered herself in her own home. She’d fended off worried calls from her childhood friends whom lived far away and drowned in her own misery.

Three months and her broken bones had healed, but her broken spirit had not. She was terrified of men and of strangers. After allowing Rubin in, she vowed never again. She’d learned what people were really made of and it was nothing pretty and nice. No, she’s learned to distrust and fear their ugliness instead and chose to keep to herself.

But a strange black creature made her a friend today and at least the crow couldn’t hurt her.

Once the mail man left, she checked that all was clear and then she collected her mail. In the box was a typical stack of bills and one crisp white envelope that looked like a thank you card.

“Weird,” Amelia commented when she looked at the return address, A P.O. Box in the next town over. “Who is sending me card?”

When she ripped it open, her heart dropped. The bills she’d been holding dropped unnoticed to the ground as her eyes read and re-read the words scribbled on the thank you card enclosed.

Thanks for the ride, chickie. I made it in, so maybe, if you’re good, we’ll come back for round two!

Amelia’s hand was shaking so hard that she nearly dropped the card. “Oh God, they know where I live!”

Above her head the crow called and she swore it sounded like leave so she ran back inside, and panicked. She spun in circles in her room, living room and kitchen trying to decide what to do. Her eyes kept drifting to picture she had in a fancy frame on her desk of her closet friends – the ones who were always there for her. The only ones she trusted. They were safe. They would keep her safe.

Amelia knew what she had to do.

Packing only what she could fit in her car and leaving a note for the rest to be donated for her landlord, Amelia sat in the front seat of her car and took one last look at the home she’d made for herself and cried.

The crow was poised on the roof watching, and she waved good-bye and threw the car into reverse, it finally flew away.

* * * *

* * * *

Adam sat silently behind his computer, just staring at the screen, lost for words, drained and overwhelmed by all kinds of emotions at the same time.

She never reported them, those vile pitiful excuses of human beings got away with what they did to her. By the look of things they had gotten away with a lot more over time. The sole survivor, no wonder she didn't want to risk her life.

At least she came home to be with her friends. Now he knew everything he would make sure she'd be safe. Never again should his mate feel worried, scared, or anything like that. Never again. Then he cursed as he knew he had already failed her. She was attacked again, under his care. Mia's reasoning words still lingered in his mind and deep down he knew Mia was right.

Though that didn't mean he had to agree and think everything was just all right. It never should have happened and it would be a long time before he would accept there wasn't much he could have done.

Staring at the screen in front of him he tried to think of something to say, to let her know he understood, but he couldn't find the right words. All he wanted to do right now was rip apart those that had hurt her. Not just that "Rubin" person, but that whole gang.

Letting out a defeated sight, he closed the browser. He needed a bit more time before he would be able to post a descent reply. Right now it would only be one laced with anger and that is certainly not the emotion he wanted to portray towards Bronwille. Shutting down the computer, he then went to bed. His night was restless as her story plagued his mind.

Adam was glad it was morning so he could immerse himself in his daily routines of opening up the tavern and getting the breakfast routine underway.

By lunchtime his temper was leaning close toward being permanently annoyed at everything that went wrong. He never was this clumsy. He burned food, dropped pans with baked eggs and bacon. Making a mental note, he knew that this morning about half the meals were given away for free because of all of his fuck ups.

Realizing he couldn't keep this up he called in his evening chef and asked him to work a double shift, with extra pay. When the apparently "young" boy, who actually was one of the younglings in his pack, arrived, he patted him on the back, said a well meant "thank you" and disappeared up stairs.

After grabbing a beer he sat down on his couch and drained the bottle in one go. He shook his head to get rid of the bad vibe he had since he'd woken up.

This can't keep going on like this. I'm going slowly mad like this.

How can I get through to her?

What do I reply to her story?

Leaning back he rested his head on the backside of the couch, closing his eyes.

Bronwille, I wish you were here. I'd keep you close and safe. I'd make sure you'd never have to worry again. Never have to look back. Be free to go where you want.

He wanted her to have peace of mind, just as he had. All though he had to admit, reading her story had stirred his own demons. His life as a soldier had made it so he'd seen his fair share of misery, pain, and abuse. He had lost close ones in his unit. One face came forward, a face he'd never forget.

With a loud thud he put the empty bottle of beer on the coffee table before he started pacing in his living room. Almost half a century had passed since that time and he was convinced he had finally moved on. Reading her story and the emotions it provoked from his wolf and himself just brought everything back.

If he was honest with himself, he could understand why she chose to deal with things in this way. Also remembering Mia's words, he stopped pacing and went to his bedroom. Entering, he looked around to where he possibly could have left the notepad from the night before.

With some looking he found it half hidden under his bed. Not caring much about the crumpled papers he just kicked them all towards a corner, intent on picking them up later.

He kicked off his boots and loosened his shirt before sitting down against the headboard. Adam didn't care that his bed wasn't made up, another sign he wasn't up to par today, because normally he would always sort this out before leaving.

Closing his eyes he let his past come to the fore front, letting back in all those conflicting emotions. He was sure that would be the key to make a fitting reply to Bronwille's story. Right now he didn't care if the words made sense; he just wanted to write down his feelings. Adam was sure he could make it better once he had all the fragments in front of him, to help him solve this puzzle of his own soul.

Faces and events washed over him, he could feel himself being dragged back through centuries. The silence of the forest, the erupting of gunshots, the whimpering of the wounded, the sudden silence of fallen soldiers. Then there were the open, lifeless staring eyes of Simmons. They still haunted him. 'Cause I knew I was the cause of him being dead. I left cover and gave away our position.

Grabbing for the pencil Adam wrote down a few words:

Shadows of the past and what could have been

Dance in the obscurity of twilight's sin

The dam to his past was now open and everything came pouring down on him.

Sealed from the ethereal rays of hopes bright light
The very essence of life itself, smothered without a fight

The darkest night of the darkest day
Sun rise breaks but cannot chase the pain away

Agonizing cries split the darkened skies
As my tears fall like rain from reddened eyes

Looking at what he wrote, he couldn't believe those written words in front of him were his. Rereading them he knew they were still rough, but every word touched his soul.

The rest of the day he spend cooped up in his bedroom only coming out later that night to make himself dinner, after he got tired of listening to his grumbling stomach demanding food. Shoveling down his food he kept one eye the multiple pieces of paper that lay scattered across the table.

Each line he read resembled part of his past. Oddly enough he found many of them to resemble what he wanted to tell Bronwille. Maybe he could turn these words into something that could portray how he felt about what she's been through and at the same time confront his own demons. He liked the sound of that.

After clearing the dishes, he locked himself up in his bedroom again, intent on getting these words to work for him. It was long past midnight when he came back to boot up his computer. Adam stretched his arms wide, his muscles bulging and tensing under his skin.

Seeing the damn thing finally having started up, he sat down and opened her bio-page. Debating for a few minutes, he chose to send it to her privately. The poem was a bit close to home and he didn't feel too comfortable to have his comment/poem out there in the open for all to read.

###

To RedB From Atlas :

Hi RedB,

I have finished reading "Broken Bones". I have only commented on the first chapter and finished reading the rest just last night. You have no idea how emotional it was for me to read this. I could say I feel sorry for the girl. I am partly. However, I admire the strength and will power you gave her to get through this on her own.

Nobody should go through something like that, I felt like punching those guys into a pulp!

This story stirred so many emotions inside of me, some I feel that go for the girl in this story as well. I'm apologizing up front if it isn't a skilled poem, but it was what came to me and what I wanted to write. I wanted you to read this, hence my private message.  This is for your eyes only.

The darkest night of the darkest day
Sun rise breaks but cannot chase the pain away

Shadows of the past and what could have been

Dance in the obscurity of twilight's sin

One hundred thousand cuts to the soul

Each stinging as the tears fall, the pain ten-fold

…..

Sincerely "Atlas"

###

Adam looked it over once more, and then pressed the send button before he would start second guessing himself.

He did feel nervous about sending this to her. Looking at the time he grunted, he really should go to bed if he wanted to catch a few hours of well needed sleep. He'd been so driven to finish this he had lost track of time. Now he could move to the next step in his plan, but he'd need more time for that and he also had to arrange for a replacement in the tavern.

Discarding his clothes he let himself drop on his bed like a dead weight and it didn't take minutes before some heavy but steady breathing could be heard in Adam's bedroom.

+ + + +

Bronwille tossed and turned, once again a night of restless sleep. Punching her pillow she almost wished that bulky man was back here, holding her safe in his muscled arms against his sculpted chest. Oh she was pissed at him for having given her a sleeping pill. But she was also smart enough to know that those few days he had spent with her, she had not slept that well in ages, not even before her first attack.

She cringed when she remembered. Bronwille really didn't want to go back down that road. She gave up getting into a comfortable position, kicked of the sheets and got up.

It's five in the morning?! She groaned loudly as she checked the time again. Well, now is just as good a time to get up. I won't get back to sleep anyways.

Once she got to her kitchen she started up her fancy coffee maker machine, one of the few perks she allowed herself. She waited 'till the first warm, rich smells wafted towards her before going to her living room.

Mindlessly she zapped through a few channels on TV, nothing interested had happened, the weather still looked crap and they were still selling the same junk on TV as always.

Somehow she couldn't understand how she put up with her boring routine day after day.

"Yay" she cheered mockingly as she heard the beep of the coffee machine. She dragged herself to the kitchen to pour herself a cup of the dark liquid hoping it would chase away the last few cobwebs of her sleep.

<i>If the coffee doesn't help then I can still jump into an ice cold shower! </i>she chided herself.

Luckily for her, once she took a sip of the rich, dark, near black, strong drink, she exhaled slowly. Letting the caffeine course through her veins as if she was a junkie craving her next shot, she let out a small laugh at the thoughts running through her mind.

I have to start getting out more. Staying cooped up like this is driving me insane! she thought again.

Thinking she might as well get some of her work done, she started up her laptop. She'd be checking her mails first and then see which pieces she could work on today. Glancing quickly at her emails she saw she had nothing new to read today. Checking her second account she saw a new message from "Atlas", a private one this time, which sparked her curiosity.

Not able to wait any longer she clicked and anxiously waited for the email to open. Her breath got caught in her throat after reading the first few lines, but what he added after that really chook her up. Those words cut right into her soul.

###

To RedB From Atlas :

…

<i>The darkest night of the darkest day
Sun rise breaks but cannot chase the pain away

Shadows of the past and what could have been

Dance in the obscurity of twilight's sin

One hundred thousand cuts to the soul

Each stinging as the tears fall, the pain ten-fold

Such pain and suffering I cannot bare

Intolerable throbbing I chance with each breath I tear

As hopeless darkness consumes the light
Tattered pieces of soul entombed, extinguished from sight

Sealed from the ethereal rays of hopes bright light
The very essence of life itself, smothered without a fight

Life's last hope comes the feeble grieving of the mind
Echoing the piercing howls of the lonely soul in kind

Agonizing cries split the darkened skies
As my tears fall like rain from reddened eyes

Upon sodden ground my tears do fall
They wash the stains of pain's thralls

Cast away the chains that bind
A path to you my heart will find</i>

Sincerely "Atlas"

###

Bronwille just sat there, staring at the screen, unaware of the tears sliding down her cheeks. She had suspected her friends finding out what had happened to her, but none of them really expressed any understanding in what exactly was going on with her. She smiled, they were the best supportive friends she could imagine and she wouldn't trade them for anything in the world.

But what she just read awed her beyond anything she had read before. When she looked down she wondered why her hands were wet. Touching her face, she felt the shed tears clinging to her cheeks still.

Blindly she felt for one of the tissues from the box that normally sat on a tiny table next to her couch. Drying her tears and cheeks she kept looking at her screen.

Something inside of her told her this wasn't just a reply. This was something that came straight from the soul, a soul that was wounded just like her own. It was as if this Atlas person knew what had been going on inside of her head. She could understand why he would call this unskilled, but nonetheless it was raw, pure, emotional and touching her on so many levels.

She propped the laptop on her lap and she read the poem again and again. Not understanding why, and not caring about that right now. She kept shedding tears until her robe was soaking wet. It was as if this soul touching piece of poetry opened up the floods to her inner soul and wanted to eradicate everything, wanting to cleanse her of all the pain she had still kept inside and never got rid of.

Closing the computer she slid it on the side table before curling into a tight ball on her couch. She wished she had a pair of strong arms holding her right now. The image of Adam appeared in her mind, the look on his face as he tried to sooth her back to sleep, holding her close to his broad chest.

If she focused she could still remember how he smelled. Holding back another sob, she hurriedly sat up and sprinted to her bedroom, dropping herself on "his" pillow, taking in his soothing aroma. Calm came over her immediately, as she inhaled the faint traces of it.

Why do I act this stubborn while I wish he was right here, just holding me? Why is it so hard to just let him in? To answer his calls?

She sniffed once more, cursing lightly for wetting "his" pillow with her tears. She felt messed up and lost. Not sure how to get through this. She was sure she was coping just fine, she had written the damn thing off after her self-inflicted solitude. Maybe she should call one of her friends and confide in them.

Bronwille could at least admit that once she got in contact with her friends and started going out more, things were easier to cope with, easier to forget. Maybe she could do the same now.

Thinking about "Atlas'" poem she knew she wasn't alone with these feelings and it was clear that it cost him a lot of effort to piece this together and share this with her. It's like he had so many demons of his own that in some way they had affected him in a similar way as her attack had an impact on her.

Her tears dried up as she kept mulling over her past. The scent of him was lulling her to sleep.

She dreamt of "him". Dreamt of the evening they met. Her eyes had found him instantly and he was a sight to behold. He was large in every sense of the world. His hair was cut short, military style. You could see the muscles bulging under his tight, dark green T-shirt. She also saw traces of some tribal tattoos on one of his arms and the bottom of the other.

Her first impression of him was that he was a hard man and totally not her type. When their eyes met it felt like fireworks had gone off around them. It had taken her a lot of effort to break their eye contact. Not having exchanged words since her friend had introduced everybody to each other, she felt there was something about him.

His eyes had locked onto her, his pupils dilated, his nostrils flaring, and the corner of his mouth twitching lightly as if he wanted to smile but was fighting it. He gave her a courteous nod, acknowledging her presence then he broke away his heated gaze. She saw the keen interest disappear, being replaced by genuine politeness towards her friends as they were introduced.

Giving him sideway glances she could tell he was a large man, probably tall as well. That she couldn’t really tell since he sat, or rather lounged, in one of the love seats, filling it completely on his own. Just keeping to herself she did what she always did, sat on the side and observed.

When her eyes happened to cross Adam's, he always managed to trap hers for a few seconds.  She liked the sound of his name and felt shivers traveling her spine when she first heard his low rumbling voice. Each and every time she could clearly notice the keen interest he had in her, yet he never acted openly on it.

When she heard the others plan to go downstairs to party and dance, she did what she always did, came up with an excuse for not having to join them. She was fine tagging along, but actually mixing in the crowd still wasn’t for her, all the others bumping into her, the more than occasional gropes from fellow dancers. No, that wasn't for her, she preferred to stay on the side and just watch the others have fun.

Much to her surprise Adam volunteered to stay with her. He had said that in a light hearted manner but she knew it meant more. She started doubting herself. She shouldn't be alone with another man. Especially not one that towered over her like Adam did. Once he had stood up Bronwille almost had to bit her tongue to prevent her jaw from dropping. That man was huge.

As she made her excuse to stay behind, she had stood up. Adam stood beside her now and she had to look up, almost twisting her neck in two, to look him in the face. Bronwille was pretty sure that if he stretched his arms she could walk right under them without touching him.

Startled, she had tried to make sure that staying behind was what he really wanted. The quick wink he gave told her he was more than happy to keep her company. One by one her friends and the brothers left the VIP room, leaving her with Adam.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable she fidgeted with the bottom of her thin blouse.

"Do you want another drink?" Adam asked in a smooth tone.

Her throat was dry but she couldn't find it in herself to answer so she just nodded.

He asked what she wanted, but still her vocal cords refused to work so she pointed towards a glass of water she had been sipping from before.

With a smile he turned towards the intercom system and in a hushed toned asked for water and another Corona for himself.

Not sure what to do with herself she stood and went to look down at the dancing crowd. She liked that the VIP rooms were sound proofed, yet you could adjust the volume so you still felt part of the vibe going on down there. Scanning the people on the dance-floor it didn't take her long to find her friends. Nick and Fran just looked like a perfect match. As she looked on she couldn't help but smile, she had picked up some tension between Mia and Chris.

Liz and Ed just seemed to have a good time dancing, no sparks there. That didn't surprise her, Liz had high standards when it came to a man and didn't settle for just anyone.

Bronwille gripped the bar in front of her as felt or rather saw things getting slightly darker around her. That was her only indication that Adam stepped close behind her. He didn't touch her, but the longer he stood behind her the more she became aware of his presence. Yet she didn't feel overwhelmed or threatened by it. Oddly enough she felt accepted.

"You know I wouldn't do anything you don't want me to," his deep voice rumbled behind her.

Talk about being direct! she mused to herself.

This time she felt him step closer to her, still not touching her. She heard him inhale for a long time then holding his breath as if he was savoring how she smelled before she heard him slowly exhale.

"Exquisite," she heard him say before he stepped back, out of her personal space.

She felt confused by this behavior, as if she passed a test of some sort of test.

"So tell me," Adam asked her, "How come a pretty little thing like you isn't swept off her feet but hides up here on her own?"

She had to admire his directness.

Turning around slowly, she thought about how to approach him. He sure wasn't the type of man she thought could be interested in her, still all the small signs he gave off were just telling her otherwise. Can I take this step? Am I ready? What if he turns out to be some creep and this is all just an act? Dammit, I have to get over this sometimes she chastised herself.

"I'm not on my own right now, you're here, aren't you?" she tried to match his directness.

"I sure am," he replied with a lazy drawl in his tone as he sat down in one of the love seats.

He gestured to one of the others, inviting Bronwille to sit with him. His eyes lit up with interest as he followed her every move.

"Care to tell why you prefer to stay up here instead of joining your friends downstairs?" he quizzed her.

"Now that is an interesting question," Bronwille said as she mulled over a fitting answer. "Think you could say I'm not in for all the groping. I don't mind looking and observing them as they're having fun."

"What about your own fun then? Don't you want to dance and let yourself go?" Adam asked.

"As I said I don't mind just watching. I like seeing other people have fun."

Just as Adam wanted to say something a feint jingle announced their drinks had arrived. A young man entered and politely nodded to both of them as he hurried over to the table, put their new drinks down and quickly cleared up the empty glasses.

"Thanks Joe, put this round on my tab, will ya?"

"Sure thing, Adam, I'll take care of it." With another polite nod Joe closed the door behind and left them both alone.

"You seem to be quite familiar here?" Bronwille asked, taking this opportunity to change the subject.

"Hmm, I come here on occasion to wind down. The Whelans and I go back some years. They're the brothers I never had," he explained.

Adam stood up and went to the control panel. After pressing a few buttons Bronwille could hear some lazy jazz song come through the speakers.

She eyed Adam curiously as he strolled towards her.

"Who says we can't have some fun of our own?" he asked stretching out his hand.

Bronwille didn't know what to do for some seconds as she looked at his hand than looked up to his face. He tilted his head, silently repeating his invitation. Taking a big breath, Bronwille slowly laid her tiny hand in his huge hand and stood up.

A smile appeared on his face and lit up his face. It gave him a boyish appearance. He didn't say much, just enveloped her in his trunk like arms and held her tenderly as he started swaying to the smooth tones of the jazzy tune he'd put on.

She had to crane her neck to look up at him, but he simply smiled down at her, moved up a hand gently cupping her head. With just the slightest bit of pressure he let her know it was fine not to stare up at him. Bronwille understood what he tried to convey and she put her head on his broad chest.

They danced like this for some time. Bronwille felt relaxed and safe. She couldn't pin point why, but this man made it appear that she was his most prized possession and treated her accordingly. Inhaling his heavy scent she still picked up traces of something she could only describe as the smell of the forest, just as it wakes up at dawn in the morning. It made her feel at ease and for the first time in years she didn't feel bad about letting a man get close to her.

Bronwille certainly didn't think a fine specimen like him could evoke the feelings she was experiencing now. She wasn't there yet, but the things she felt now were feelings she had forbade herself to have for years now. Maybe this man could restore some of her faith in mankind.

Without realizing it, she cuddled closer, her arms barely reaching around him. She was not sure if she was deluding herself, but she thought she felt him brush his lips over the top of her head before tightening his hold on her. Smiling faintly she did just the same, not wanting to let go just yet.

Sadly an annoying ringing startled her.  Confused she looked around. Then it dawned on her. She'd been dreaming again and somewhere in her apartment her annoying cell phone was going off.

Bronwille cursed at this sudden wake up call. She just wanted to curl up and go back to dreaming of being in his strong big arms. She'd felt safe there. Being the emotional wreck she was right now she clung to everything that helped her staying sane. This dream was just one of those things.

With a loud groan she got up and searched for the damn thing that interrupted her favorite dream. Looking at the clock as she passed it she was surprised to see it was already noon, she had slept away her complete morning.

The shrill ringing of her phone reminded her of what she was doing and she continued into the direction the noise came from. Just as she grabbed the damn thing it went all quiet on her. Rolling her eye annoyingly she planted herself onto her couch and tapped a few buttons checking whose call she had missed.

She was astonished to see it had been Mia calling her. Not giving it a second thought she hit the dial back option and waited for her friend to pick up, which she did after the second time the phone went over.

"Hi Mia, you called?" Bronwille said.

"Hi Bron. Actually surprised you called back. I hadn't heard from you in a while and I wanted to check up on you. Is everything ok?" Mia immediately cut to the chase.

Bronwille knew her friends must have realized something had happened since she was back to declining all their invitations. Before, her friends had waited until she took the first step and let them know she wanted to tag along. This time everything went differently. Faintly thinking back at the poem she knew she couldn't keep going the way she had.

The poem had opened up Pandora's Box of emotions and she found it was time to take the bull by the horns and start facing things. She faintly thought of "Atlas", if he could get through it, then she should be able to as well.

"I'm doing pretty ok," she hesitantly answered, not sure if she sounded convinced of it herself.

"What would you say about coming out for a bit of lunch? My treat and just the two of us," Mia asked.

Bronwille mused over the invitation. I should be able to handle a lunch. After all I have to eat, just like anybody else.

"Sure I'll come. Where did you want to go?"

"That's a surprise, just be ready in thirty. I'll come and pick you up and drop you back off. Sounds like a plan?" Mia replied cheerfully.

It was quite clear Mia was happy with Bronwille's decision to come with her.

"That's a deal then. I'll have to go now then, so I can grab a quick shower and get ready. See you in a little bit?" Bronwille said, ending her side of the conversation.

"See you in thirty," her friend responded in kind.

Little did Bronwille know her friend had a huge smile on her face, because Mia knew exactly where she was taking Bronwille for lunch.