Into the Storm

After about an hour I sat back with a sigh that held both relief and sadness. Each new inquiry I started, my heart would clench and my hands felt like they were weighed down with sand as I typed in new parameters and looked for information. Every time I hit enter my eyes would shut, afraid of the data that was going to appear in front of me. Each time I failed to find something, I would release a deep breath I didn’t even realize I was holding, and yet, there seemed to be nothing to find. I could find nothing about a recently missing woman in this area. No reports about a missing Escort that matched the description of the damaged car in the barn. Logistically, I had assumed she had to have come from nowhere further away than about two hours given the severity of the storm she’d been driving in. Coming up with nothing, I expanded the search to larger cities, even as far away as London and Toronto. But still nothing came up.

I even changed the dates, going back further. Maybe she had been missing longer. I searched newspapers and headlines, local newscasts, everything I could think of. An article came up about a kidnapped wife of a wealthy businessman but it occurred after Rabbit had shown up, and although the photo was rather blurry, the couple was older looking. I didn’t bother looking at the video clip, since she was already here when the kidnapping had taken place according to the date on the article. I checked various sites and headlines but came up with nothing. I even did a cross-country search and went through many articles on missing people. But none of them were Rabbit.

I sat back, perplexed. Nothing?

There wasn’t a person looking for Rabbit? Not a single article or newspaper story that remotely matched. Not one person was missing this incredible little woman? I found that hard to believe. Not a spouse or boyfriend. No family member. Not even a friend? Was she that alone in this world?

My heart ached at the thought of her being so alone. It was so wrong. She was so special; loving and giving in ways that constantly astounded me.

Another part of me was relieved. No one was looking for her. She was still mine. She would stay with me.

Neither of us would be alone again.

I leaned forward, my head falling into my hands in exhaustion as I felt a huge weight being lifted from me. I wasn’t stupid enough to think it was done, that no one would ever be looking for her or that she wouldn’t remember who she was one day. I needed to do some more searching.

But it wasn’t today. Today she was still safe here. With me.

A noise made me look up. Rabbit was standing at the top of the stairs, frozen. She still had on my ivory-coloured cable knit sweater, and it hung down past her thighs and the arms were miles too long on her, her hands barely visible through the layers of knitted material. Rumpled from sleep, she looked adorable. Except I didn’t like the way her eyes were darting between the computer screen and my face.

“Joshua?” The one word spoke volumes. Fear and anxiety were prevalent in her tone.

I opened my arms. “Come here, Rabbit,” I said quietly. I watched her hesitate then make her way over. I pulled her down onto my lap and wrapped my arms around her. She was shaking so badly I became concerned. I pulled her even tighter and felt her head burrow into my chest. “It’s okay, Rabbit. I’ve got you.”

Then I quietly explained what I had found, or not found really. As I spoke, her trembling calmed and I got her to look up as I showed her some of the results I had located. I even clicked on the article about the kidnapped wife but she had no reaction other than a murmured ‘I hope he finds her.’ When I was done, I sat back still holding her.

She raised her head. “Nobody is looking for me?”

“Not that I can find. I’m sorry, Rabbit.”

She shook her head. “I’m not.”

I was surprised at her reaction. “Why?”

She regarded me steadily. “This is where I want to be.”

I smiled at her declaration. “We have to try to find out your identity, Rabbit. Surely, you want to know who you are and what happened to you that night.”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure I want to remember that night. And … I know who I am.”

I looked at her in confusion.

“I’m your Rabbit. That’s all I need to know,” she whispered softly. Her incredibly lovely eyes stared up at me, filled with tenderness and adoration.

“You are,” I agreed, relief and lust abruptly coursing through me. I kissed her deeply and stood up, taking her with me.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you to bed,” I growled, walking downstairs quickly. “I’m going to show you just how much you’re mine.”

She hummed happily. “Good. It’s something I need to be reminded of … often.”

“Not a problem, Rabbit.” I smirked at her as I laid her on the bed.

Almost giddy with relief, however temporary, I playfully arched my eyebrow at her.

“Now, give me back my sweater.”





Chapter Twenty


Joshua


I leaned over, laying my hand on top of Rabbit’s. She had been nervously fidgeting and playing with her napkin for the last five minutes. “Relax, Rabbit.”

Her tired eyes flew to mine. I could see the tension she was holding in, and I could tell from her body language another headache was coming. Her expressive eyes were shadowed with the start of the pain.

“It’s just Cecilia, Rabbit. She’s one of the people I trust the most. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

“What if … what if she doesn’t like me?” she whispered.

I smiled at her. “Not possible, Rabbit. She’s gonna love you.”

“What if she …” her voice trailed off.

“What? Recognizes you when she sees you in person?” I asked softly.

She nodded.

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