The Witch's Want Ch. 06

He'd decided the last time to be a prick about it and he'd bellowed 'yes' to her. She'd told him to fuck himself from now on, and he'd raised his hand and hit her. The trouble was that he'd hit her with his fist. She'd gotten a black eye from it, since she'd never have expected that from him.

The police had told her that it was allowed to defend oneself, but she'd gone a little far when she'd put Brendan into the hospital. As soon as she'd arranged for her bail, she was gone to get the proceedings started and she'd had to begin her life all over again.

Two and a half months after that, Brendan had been at her door. She'd seen his car and she'd dialed 911, stalling a couple of minutes before she spoke through the door. She wanted witnesses this time.

"Look," she'd said through the closed door, "I'm not supposed to be anywhere near you, you big tough man. You had an injunction put in place, as though you were in fear for your life from me. Now you're back, making all these 'let's try it again' noises. What is this? You need me to shovel out your house for you because you can't find your socks for the mountain of your own shit? You want a rematch or something? How stupid are you? And more to the point, just how stupid do you think that I am? Go fuck your hat, Brendan. I don't need you.

Do you really think that I miss you at all? I've got vibrators who have better personalities than you, and they don't expect me to work all day and make dinner that they eat in front of the TV set and drink their beer while they ignore me. I don't need you for anything. I'm pissed at myself for wasting three years of my life with you."

He began to cry at that point, begging her, but Savannah already knew the hook when she saw it. He did surprise her though. He pulled a gun from his pocket and told her that he intended to kill himself.

"Fine," she said, hearing the sirens, "Just don't make your last act on Earth an indicator of the selfish asshole that you've always been and do it someplace other than on my doorstep. I don't ever want to see you again, so this ought to work out well. And if you think that I'll feel guilty over how I've caused you to do this in your distorted little world, you're wrong again. You don't even know me, Brendan. You kill yourself here, and I'll piss on you, I promise."

He'd pointed the gun at the door then, but by the time that he'd pulled the trigger, Savannah was already out of the line of fire and crawling to the kitchen. She'd heard it when the cops had told him to put the gun down, but then she heard him shoot once more. The shot was followed by answering fire from the policemen.

She'd gone to the shrink that they'd recommended to help her get over the loss that she didn't feel. "I'm not here for that," she told the woman, "I'm here to get help for the anger that I feel. I know what he did. That was all just a big 'fuck you' on his part. He'd already trashed whatever I'd felt for him a long time ago."

The psychologist had told her that she likely needed an outlet for the way that she felt and Savannah listened carefully, nodding at the right points. The next appointment, she told the shrink truthfully that she now felt a lot better and was getting on with her life, When she'd thanked the doctor, the idiot had obviously felt a lot of pride in her ability to help others, but Savannah had found her own way to feel better by keeping her promise on a cold and rainy autumn night.

She'd gone to the place where he was buried wearing a pretty skirt that she'd hiked up as she'd squatted down. She'd spent an hour and a half driving around drinking coffee and she'd made sure that Brendan got the full measure of her long hot piss on his dirt-covered face. "I don't know how things are on the other side, "she chuckled, "but I hope you're enjoying your last look at what you used to have when I loved you."

Her thoughts petered out as she looked at a little statue in the window. There was a troll there. He'd obviously been made by a woman who'd had her own issues. The resemblance to her dead ex-husband was a little frightening.

She caught the motion in the glass and turned around, wondering how she'd let anyone get this close. The man was there in front of her with the balled up wrapper from his breakfast and his cup of coffee.

Other than the place still drawing him somehow, what had caused him to cross the street finally had been her ass. It was an insane thought to him at the time. He'd noticed her there when he'd looked over again and he'd stared at her hair for a long minute before his eyes had made the trip southward. She had long, thin legs in tight jeans, and when his gaze had settled on her butt, he was more than a little surprised. What he saw was a feminine form to be sure, and lovely as well, but that ass, ...

It was just as small as it could be and still be on a woman. It still had the right shape, but it told him that she was either anorexic or athletic to an extreme on top of a lithe build. He'd looked at it for a little while, moving his eyes away at intervals so that she wouldn't feel that she was being watched. He decided that he liked it, not that it mattered at all here. He wondered why she stood there for so long, not moving. It had been ten minutes. He stood for a while longer and then gave in to the pull that had brought him here.

They looked at each other for a long minute in silence.

"Good morning," he smiled, giving it his best good ole boy shot. He wasn't trying to charm her, he just found her interesting and maybe she might be able to tell him, ...

"Hi," she said, wondering where this would go. To her slight surprise, he just sat down there on the bottom step and slurped his coffee. He didn't even look up at her.

"Where did you get the coffee?" she asked, "Is it somewhere nearby?"

"Yeah," he smiled a little, "right over there," he pointed, "that little bistro. They've got all kinds of good food and all, and great coffee."

Savannah looked and tried to decide if she wanted to get one that badly. She felt a little weird about leaving. He could see it in her eyes.

"I know what you're thinking," he said, "but I'll stay here, don't worry. Have you got a phone on you? I could call you if anything happens while you're in there."

She stared at him for a moment before she sat down next to him very slowly. "You feel it too? Like you're pulled here and you don't know why?"

He nodded, noticing the way that she looked at him and his cup of take-out coffee.

He handed it to her, "Yup. I feel like an idiot. I started feeling like I had to go someplace three days ago. I almost couldn't leave Birmingham fast enough. I didn't even know –"

"Where you were going?" she asked, as she took a sip before handing it back.

He nodded, "Yeah, but this is where I was headed. That's all I know. Now I don't want to leave and I still don't know why I had to come here."

She nodded, "Same here. Hey, that's pretty good coffee. I think I'm gonna go get me some. You want another one?"

He nodded a little absently, but then he looked at her and smirked, "There's a girl there behind the counter. I think she's got one of those instant crushes on me. You could say 'hi' for me."

He had absolutely no idea why he'd said that.

She looked at him, wondering for a few seconds before she smiled at the way that he looked. With that hair, that face and those eyes, ...

"I'll bet she does, too," she laughed, "I'll be right back, ok?"

"Alright," he smiled.

She began to recite some numbers to him. He looked at her a little blankly.

"My phone number, silly," she laughed, "Call me if anything happens while I'm gone?"

He pulled a pen out of his pocket and began to write on the cuff of his faded denim jacket, "Uh-huh."

"You sure that you've got it, or do I have to tell you again?"

"No, I'm good," he smiled and then he read it back to her, "Got it right here," he said, "Notebook of the day."

She was back a few minutes later. She handed him a fresh coffee.

He stuck his right leg out in front of him while he reached into his pocket for the money.

"Forget it," she smiled, "Your cutie in there remembered you, so it's free. She thought that I was with you at first, but I stayed on the plan and told her no. She said to tell you that she gets off at two-thirty."

He smirked, "Reckon that's the time that I've got to be somewhere else."

"You don't like her?" Savannah asked, "She looked alright to me, in a 'take me home and I'll be your apple blossom' sort of way."

She noticed his grin, "What did I say?"

"Nothin'," he smiled a little shyly. She could tell that it wasn't a look that he got on that face very often. "It's just that you described her perfectly. That's about what I saw. Nice as anything, but she's not my type. I'd hate myself for it, but I know that I'd only hurt a girl like that."

"Well, what kind of girl do you like then?" She looked at him and shrugged, "Hey, we've got time, since we don't even know why we're here and there's nobody here but us. Lookin' at you, I'd want to know now."

"I dunno," he said, "I'm not big on being roped and tied down." He looked at her and held up a hand, "Don't shoot me yet, ok? If I had to make a wish, I'd love to be with a girl who can handle herself, speak her mind while she looks me in the eye, and not do that over how I've let her little expectations down by forgetting to take out the trash one time. I mean, if I've screwed up and she tells me, I'm all ears, because I'd want to make it better. But the only ring that I'd ever allow in my nose has to be the exact match to the one that I'd put in hers at the same time."

He sighed, thinking that this was the point where he was about to 'Get Told' or at the least, see what she thought very clearly on her face, "I know. I'm an asshole." He looked at her, "Sorry."

"Nope," she grinned, "not really. Sounds to me like you've still got your set of original equipment. Congratulations. You're getting to be a rare breed. And as long as we're shooting the breeze here, I can say that I can admire that. By the way, I can handle myself."

He looked at her a little appraisingly, "I'm kind of getting that from you."

"Uh-huh," she smiled as she looked at her cup for a moment. She took a sip and then looked at him. "I put my old man in the hospital because he hit me. The next time that I saw him was the day that he died."

She punctuated the statement in the best way that she could think of, by sipping her coffee as though her admission had been something of an everyday thing at her house.

"What happened?" he asked, "Didja forget to take out the trash?"

She spit out her mouthful of coffee to keep from choking on it and she laughed."Hell no," she chuckled a little once she had it together again, "He told me that I had to quit my job and my gym membership so that I could raise his brats and be chained to the washing machine for him." She pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes out of her knapsack and she offered him one. He accepted and she lit it for him before lighting one for herself. He looked thoughtful for a moment.

He looked at her again, the lean build on her beginning to make a little sense to him now. He liked the way that her slightly puffy ponytail hung out of the back of her ball cap like the long tail of some kind of animal.

He looked a little serious as he leaned over just a bit. "What did you tell him?"

She shrugged, "I told him to piss up a rope, why?"

"And then he hit you?" He asked it as though he was deadly serious now.

"Uh-huh." She slurped her coffee again, careful now to swallow if he looked as though he was about to say something.

He nodded, "Good for you." He took a drag of the smoke and let it out, "Fuck him if he can't take a joke." He turned to her, "If it's not too forward of me. Ma'am, May I please have your name?"

She held out her hand, "Savannah Smith, since we're so suddenly formal. What's yours, sir, if I may be so bold?"

He shook her hand and grinned at her, "I think that you're a remarkable woman, Savannah. I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Hunter. Hunter Kurtz, though it has happened once or twice that I've embarrassed myself by announcing it while being rather drunk at a bar."

"Really?" she said, liking his first name, at least, "and how is that, Hunter?"

"Well, "he smirked, "A little too much good whiskey, and I made a Spoonerism out of it at the top of my lungs."

"A Spoonerism?"

"Yup," he said into the depths of his take-out cup, "That's when you accidentally swap the first letters of two words in a sentence and get your mords wixed up."

Savannah thought about it and she began to laugh. She couldn't get the image of it out of her head.

"Oh you're good," she said, wiping the tears of her laughter from her eyes after a minute.

--------------------------

Farah awoke to find herself warm and comfortable, wrapped in the comforter. She looked around and heard the soft crackle of the fire pit. A good look told her that he'd brought the fire back to life and had added a little wood for her to be comfortable, but not overheated. She noticed the daylight through the drapes and wondered what time it was.

Then she noted that she was alone, and wondered a little about that until she noticed that if she took the time for it, with a little thought, she could actually feel that he was still here in the house. She wondered about that. There was no sound to indicate this, but she just knew it. She even knew where in the house he was. Closing her eyes for a moment, she thought that she was imagining him in the bathroom, feeling uncomfortable that he hadn't asked, but wanting to use the shower.

She was astounded as the sense came to her that he was reaching for the bathtub faucets. She didn't know why she knew that, she just knew. Her jaw fell open as she heard the squeak of the hot water tap as it was opened, and then a second later, she heard the sound of the shower being turned on upstairs.

Farah smiled to herself and threw back the comforter to run up the stairs. Passing the kitchen, she smelled coffee, but she passed that temptation right by.

She tried the doorknob carefully and grinned when she found that it was unlocked. Letting herself in as silently as possible, she cleared her throat as she lifted cover of the toilet seat.

"Good morning," she said, and then she almost laughed when she realized that he'd known that she was coming.

She couldn't explain that to herself either. It was just another thing that she knew.

"Hi," she heard him say from behind the curtain.

"It's alright," she said, sitting down and weighing the chances that he wouldn't hear her for the sound of the shower, "I just need to pee and I promise not to flush until later."

The morning was quickly becoming one for surprises to Farah. She'd never in her life been comfortable doing something like this. With any other man, she'd have waited and not come in, no matter how much she was bursting to pee. She'd have suffered through it with her knees clamped together. She'd have run out into the woods and peed there before she'd do something like this – or the other thing that now came to her mind as she finished after a moment.

Let a man see her like this, first thing in the morning? Naked? No way, she thought. She stood up and stepped to the mirror. Wiping the fog away with the heel of her hand, she saw that she most definitely looked a little disheveled. She thought about stepping out of the bathroom to grab her robe, but something caused her to stop and take another swipe at the fog on the glass.

Farah smiled. She was looking disheveled for sure, but she was also looking pretty well-loved and happy. Her thoughts went back to her other idea and she removed her mother's cowry shell necklace.

"May I join you?" she asked.

A moment later, Farah was standing in his arms again. The information that she gleaned from their quiet conversation as they held each other was like anything else for her today, full of little surprises. He told her that it was almost nine-thirty, and that he'd been up for hours already. While she'd slept like a baby, he'd offered some prayers to his gods, gotten dressed, started his bike and after placing a ward of his own on the door of her home, he'd ridden into town and come back. Farah was amazed.

"Where did you go in town?" she asked as he began to wash her.

"I had an idea about checking out the office in the barn while I waited for you to wake up, but I didn't want to do that without you, and anyway, I – "

"You are not going to rent the space in the barn," she said.

She watched him nod. "I know that now, but I hadn't thought of it then. You won't let me stay there, will you?"

"No," she said, shaking her head, "Like everything else about you and I, we are different in that too. I know so many things this morning, only because I know them and for no other reason that I do. You will live here with me, and we will just have to share the costs. Now," she said, feeling a little uncomfortable about how her normal way of life was feeling a little as though it was slipping from her somehow to be replaced by him, "what did you do in town?"

"I went to my motel room," he said, "I wanted to have my shower there, but I was on my bike and it's not a great idea to ride right after a shower unless it's really warm out – and it's not today, though it's feeling like it'll get there later. I was also in a big hurry, because I wanted to be back here for when you woke up, since I'd forgotten to leave you a note, and that would be rude, to have you wake up and find me gone without even a note. Then I went to the bike shop and bought you a helmet, since I know your size," he smiled.

"You know my size?" Farah's jaw dropped, "How?"

But then the answer to all of this strangeness came to her and she smiled, "It is the lock, isn't it? This is how I know things for no reason."

He nodded a little grimly, "Yup. Welcome to the world of weirdness, Farah. I only knew a little of what the lock brings to the one or ones who carry it. But I knew nothing of this part of it. I hope that we like each other, because like this, I'm pretty sure that we can just forget about privacy."

Farah groaned a little as she thought about it, but not for that reason. She'd been leaning against the wall under the shower nozzle with her arms out in front of her as he'd been washing her back, but now his hands had gone lower and it felt wonderful. "Can I try to guess some things?" she asked.

"Sure, I guess," he replied and she tried to get his shoe size, neck measurement and waist size. She was right in every case without even having to think about any of them. She chuckled then and pushed herself backward a little against him.

"I even know the size of that," she giggled.

"There's a size for that?" He was astounded, "They even have – "

"No," she laughed, "and I do not want to get a ruler out to measure. I just know its size and it's just right. Yesterday morning, I would have said that it was a bit on the large side, but that was before."

"Oh great," she heard him groan, "And tomorrow I guess that you'll call it small?"

"Pft," she blew out through her pursed lips as she looked back at him as the cascade of the shower beat onto the side of her neck, "I doubt it, and anyway, if I want a larger one, you can just look like the demon that I know and love. It's bigger then.

Why do I need a motorcycle helmet?" she asked, "I've still got my poor old car."

"I was hoping that you'd like to come with me to get my truck. It'll take a few days there and back, and then the job's over before it gets cold. I'd haul my bike back on my trailer."

Farah thought about it. She didn't have to open today at all. She'd just had a sale and it had gone really well, far better than if she'd just kept her regular hours. She could take the day off, not open on Saturday, and the store was closed on Sunday and Monday anyway. She agreed as she sank to her knees to reach for him.