The Woman Hidden Read online

  The Woman Hidden

  Lucas Mattias

  All rights reserved.

  For the women in my life.

  They know exactly who they are.

  Chapters

  PROLOGUE

  Denial

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  Anger

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  VIII

  Bargaining

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  Depression

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  Acceptance

  I

  II

  III

  IV

  V

  VI

  VII

  EPILOGUE

  Final Acknowledgements

  PROLOGUE

  Everything happens for a reason. Either that, or everything can be rationalized.

  The only thought she had in mind was the total opposite of everything she had believed so far.

  They cannot find me here.

  The shooting sound still echoed through her ears, a loud sound that now ran through her head in a buzzing and deafening tone. A sound loud enough for the birds to fly away; loud enough for her to know she needed to keep on running.

  Branches would suddenly pop out in front of her, stones would roll underneath her feet, she was already stunned enough not to avoid most of the obstacles at time, trembling down at some points, losing herself among so many twigs and pine needles. Her throat started to get sore and dry, she didn’t know whether she would have sufficient breath to outrun the remaining unknown miles ahead of her.

  She needed to get herself as far from there as possible. They could not find her there.

  All she needed was a loose rock and the next thing she caught with her eyes was the dirty snow on the ground against her face; a despairing thump without supports followed by the intense burning on her knees, given by the fall.

  Maybe the adrenaline was wearing off. She was now starting to feel her lungs scratching, desperately looking for a grasp of air, along her buzzing head, slowly spinning around in a vertiginous fashion – quite a horrible moment to have a drop in her blood pressure. Let alone the excruciating pain in her right shoulder.

  The arrow was still pierced there. There was no time to removed it, though, there was no reason. She needed to keep on running.

  Without much consideration for what was about to come, she lifted herself up with difficulties, ignoring the injured leg, starting her fast pace once more, this time in a slower rhythm, although trying to keep the same speed from before. Maybe she didn’t need to run so much anymore, it was possible that her destination was already close enough. Her salvation.

  At the horizon line, between the snow sprinkled mountain tops, the first lights from the morning began to burn the dark sky, kicking out the starts and the moon. A sign of hope, for many. A sign of desperation for her, for she still wasn’t sure of how far she was from her finish line.

  And they couldn’t find her before that.

  With a last glance back she could see, across from the tall trees and pine tops, the smoke already fading away, not so strong as it was before, but offering her some relief for being sufficiently far enough from that place, guaranteeing her a certain kind of security. A fake one.

  She kept on running. At some moments she would think about giving it up, mostly when her feet would sink again and again in hidden holes under the snow and get soaked with the dirty puddles of water under the melting ice. The cold was harsh against her skin and the tension across her body didn’t make her struggle any easier when trying to overcome all those natural barriers. Moving through the trees she kept on her descend, the road wasn’t so distant anymore and she could realize that when she saw that, feet and feet away, the vegetation started to become scarcer.

  The needles were still cracking under her boots, the rocks were still rolling and the wind was still blowing those strong and foggy blows, filled with the small flakes that felt like blades against her skin.

  She couldn’t tell anymore whether she could take it any longer. She wasn’t sure that she could keep on, either.

  A loosen boulder on the ground was all it took her to realize she had to give it up when she fell against the soil one more time and let her body roll downhill as a dead weight. Maybe, in that way, she could reach the spot faster. That could be her best choice.

  Maybe...

  Before she was able to calculate where she had stopped and much before she could even feel her body had stopped rolling down, being thrown around at some points and tossed away by thousands of stones and other wood debris, she felt that nauseating feeling running through her veins again until she saw nothing more.

  She wasn’t on the run and her lungs didn’t hurt as it did before. She attempted lifting her head, but she failed horribly, feeling the impact when her skull hit the dirt once again. She tried to open her eyes, but her lids were excessively heavy, partially because she could feel the unbearable illumination coming from the outside. That same illumination was the one burning against the layer of snow on her body and face.

  “Ma’am, can you hear me?”

  That voice sounded comforting. A man with a cool voice, trying to help. She tried to open her eyes one more time to see if she knew him or if he was a cop by any chance, but all she got was a white blur covered by the morning lights. Maybe he had dark hair and beard, maybe it was all just the blurry hair she was seeing. The man seemed to wave at someone else. He felt like a nice man who didn’t have a uniform or, at least, not one she recognized.

  “Ma’am, stay calm. We have already requested help.”

  “Is this an arrow?”, someone shouted next to him, another man, probably younger.

  “We need help. Call emergency”, the first man instructed, trying to hold her head away from the dirty ground. “Can you tell me your name?”

  She could. She wouldn’t. She slowly shook her head, denying the possibility.

  The wouldn’t find her there and, even if they found her, she was safe.

  She was finally safe.

  Drowned by that certainty and knowing that help was already on the way, she sighed, allowing her body to enjoy the exhaustion and ignore the pain, succumbing once more to that drowsiness she so much needed blessed by the light of that new morning arrived.

  Denial

  “March 8th, 2012.

  I shouldn’t have confronted him. Today, better than before, I know that. How could I have confronted the man who is the reason I am alive today? I ask myself where my insecurities are leading me to, or leaving me.

  Better than anyone, I shouldn’t judge.

  I could’ve requested someone’s help, I should’ve taken the right measures, I know, but how? How could I turn my backs to someone who tells me every day I’m the reason of his smile? How could I turn away from this man who, although takes me to the extremes every now and then, shows me every and each day the real reason I am here today?

  I love him and, more than never, I know that.

  Sometimes I wonder if he’s right. I don’t want to become one of those neurotic and disturbed women, I don’t want to be the crazy girl who’s waiting for him by the door every night and who questions each one of his nights away from me. I don’t want to and I won’t. I know this is someone that goes directly against many of my previous beliefs, but if this is what it takes to save my marriage, then that’s what I’m goi
ng to do.

  It still hurts and, much bigger than the physical pain, is the pain of knowing this is something I could have avoided, something I could have ignored and moved on, but my stupidity and my damn petulance took me to the opposite road, showing me once more that I must not take sudden decision, I must not confront before confronting myself.

  I never thought I would ever admit that, but he is right.

  I’m getting crazy.

  Maybe I am crazy.”

  I

  The first morning light had already spread itself inside the chalet while he was busy preparing his breakfast. He took another look to the newspaper page opened on his tablet and licked his fingers just after finishing fixing the bacon strip on the second plate on the table, missing only the fresh milk. He didn’t want to scream, he knew that the boy was probably already on his way, right about to climb down the stairs and take the brutal breakfast he always enjoyed before his morning walks.

  Before he could venture himself into serving both of them some fresh milk, a sudden noise of something heavy against the wooden floor caught his attention.

  The ground floor bedroom. The sound had come from the guestroom and he knew who he would find there, the reason of that noise.

  He left the breakfast behind and just made sure he had turned off the stove flame before crossing the large kitchen, heading towards one of the nearby corridors. The guestroom door was right over there, close to the previous room, half-opened to offer privacy and surveillance at the same time.

  With surgical care he opened the door and the first thing his eyes captured was the heavy lamp he hated so much partially fallen, hanging from the nightstand.

  And on the bed, his unexpected guest.

  She seemed lost, not as much as she looked when he found her, but enough for her not to know exactly where she was and not to attack him in case he approached her in a rude or sudden way. He wasn’t sure exactly of what to say or from where to start, thousands of questions were boiling in his brains, so he decided to take the time to read her and wait.

  The woman, the unknown woman, tried to support herself and sit on the bed, but the pain in her shoulder made her fail, hesitating a little until she could place herself up in a firm position. Her eyes were barely opened and, although that was such a simple and stupid action, he could just wonder how hard it was to do it with a body so bruised and hurt. Still, that woman was one of the most beautiful ladies he had already met, maybe she was not even so real.

  Her hair, although dirty and matted, had a beautiful auburn tone that seemed to match those of the morning enlightened wooden wall. Her fair skin, pale as porcelain, showed some bruises and abrasion, still something quite beautiful to admire in such a morning, as if even after so much hurting, the unknown woman was still able to shine under the sun.

  As soon as she got her eyes a little more opened, she moved them around herself to the pillows, the perfumed sheets, the thick blankets, the soft robe she was in, the walls… and to the unknown man who observed her by the door.

  “Morning.” He said, keeping his posture while trying to look harmless.

  He caught what seemed to be a short spasm underneath the blankets when she tried to pull herself up a little more against the headboard. Her lips, on the other hand, remained tightly sealed. Dry, but sealed, while her green eyes tried to identify that man in front of her.

  “My name is Jason. Me and my son found you this morning in one of the wood exits.”

  He, then, gently moved two steps inside the room. Up to that distance everything seemed to be fine.

  “Do you know where you are?”

  For a split second, he felt as if she wanted to open her lips, but she hesitated, summarizing her communication with a slight head nod.

  “Can you tell me your name?”

  Once again she prepared herself to say something, her lips trembling, but this time something other than mere hesitation stopped her. The woman finally opened her lips, trying to put words and letter together, trying to say something Jason couldn’t clearly understand at first.

  “I… wa…”. He could see the frustration in her eyes. “Wa... Water.”

  It took him a few seconds to realize she wasn’t trying to say her name, but asking for water. He disappeared for a moment, returning afterwards with a half-full glass of water, gently approaching the bed still trying not to present any harm or rudeness, ignoring the fact he was inside his own cabin.

  The woman grabbed the glass, her fingers trembling a bit, and took a sip of it.

  “Slow. Your stomach must be empty.”

  She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes and understood the message, drinking it with small sips and giving a moment between them to allow the water to slowly flow in.

  The unknown woman, he thought, wasn’t very young, although she didn’t seem to be much older, either. She was probably somewhere in her late thirties, maybe almost on her forties, something he wouldn’t be able to really assure, not until after she could remember who she really was. He scratched his stubble beard and kept on staring at her, afoot, keeping distance until she felt he had nothing but good intentions.

  Before he could start any conversation – even not knowing exactly what to say – Jason heard sound coming from the stairs. Now, for sure, it was his son. The woman looked fine, albeit weak, but she was fine.

  “I will have to leave you for a moment. Finish your water. If you feel stronger and, of course, if you want me to, I can bring you some breakfast.”

  She didn’t reply, catatonically staring the transparent glass of water in her hands. He stayed for a few more seconds, hoping she would at least whisper any words to prove she had understood his sayings. What if she didn’t even speak that language?

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Jason was about to get away from the room when her cold and long fingers grabbed his arm. He jumped, reflexively trying to escape, but her glare touched something inside of him that nothing had touched for a while now.

  “You are safe, I promise I’ll be back soon.”

  She seemed to understand when her fist loosened around Jason’s wrist, allowing him to leave. He left the room, closing the door behind himself without provoking any noises, and he made his way back to the kitchen in a long and slow walk, trying to organize his thoughts about the stranger woman in his guestroom.

  As a father and provider, the first thing he should consider was if she could offer any danger for him and his son, something he had already thought about since the first moment, the first meeting. Undoubtedly, he knew, looks could deceive, but there wasn’t much about the woman to ring any alarms around him. Her lost eyes, the confusion in her mind and the fear of being alone only increased the chances for him to offer her a hand for help. He was missing a female presence in the house, a presence that had dissipated years ago not to be replaced so soon. She wasn’t a replacement, but she could surely be a support, mostly when it came about Marco.

  Who was trying to conceal his hunger with fast bites in his morning meal, trying to save a few things for later at the same time. Jason questioned himself how long he had stayed away from his son to realize just now he had become an almost full grown man who had to rush himself during breakfast while trying to saving some things for the road. The running clothing and the backpack over the counter gave Jason the answer he already had.

  “Running again?” He asked, surprising Marco with the sudden question.

  “Always.” The boy replied in his chews, shooting a look from above his father’s shoulder. “Is she awake?”

  Jason nodded, moving closer to the kitchen island and pushing a glass of juice towards his son.

  “So she can leave already.”

  That was not a question and Jason clearly noticed that.

  “Me and your mom didn’t raise you that way.”

  “Mom cannot speak for herself.”

  “Marco—”

  “No. I don’t want this woman here at home. I don’t… you don�
��t even know who she is! People are not found on the woods just by chance, dad.”

  Jason was about to snap back, but he decided to keep his words to himself and just directed his irritation to his closed fist against the black marble which composed the island, his knuckles turning white from the applied pressure. Marco was his son and he respected the boy a lot; however, the words from a sixteen-year-old boy wouldn’t change his mind. Or anything. At all.

  “We help, Marco. That’s what we do and that’s what we’re gonna do. If you don’t mind, you could take advantage of your run and bring me a few things from the—”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Without any further words, the boy shoved the earphones into his ears and connected it to his cellphone, already heading out and stretching up.

  Jason decided not to argue, mainly with his guest awaiting. That was a kind of decision that could sound irrational and risky, but what kind of risks could a woman offer him? Jason wasn’t the sporty man he once was, but he was still taller than most and his regular exercises offered him more strength than that of the friends he had.

  He waited for the door slam, warning him Marco was gone, and headed to the breakfast for a last time. From one of the counters near the sink he grabbed a large plate that could easily be called a platter and laid it on the dark counter, gathering on it a little bit of each serving from that meal. Some pancakes, a grab of scrambled eggs, maybe one or two bacon strips and sliced apple. He wasn’t sure whether the juice was appropriate, but he shook the idea away when he thought that it wouldn’t be that hard to make his way back to the kitchen in case he needed.

  Filled with some extra energy, he returned to the guestroom.

  As unbelievable as it could be, she was at the very same position he had left her, sitting with her head against the headboard and the blanket up to her chest, her hair reflecting the sunlight in shades of orange against the wooden walls of the room. Something had changed, however, in the unknown woman’s features and it was not only about how immerse in her own thoughts she seemed to be, staring the small golden ring in her finger.