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CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT-THE GIFT
“Imara! Slow down. Baby, please wait for me!” Ben called out as he ran down the narrow dirt path she was walking along. No matter how hard he tried to reach her, she was always a few steps ahead. Once he got past the tall gates, Ben followed her scent down a cobblestone road to a harbor. Imara sat on an old wooden dock with her feet dangling in the water watching the ships sail off into the fiery sunset beyond the horizon.
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As Ben stood by the window, he looked out over the lake at an old man with a floppy hat fishing off the shore on the other side. Hearing Imara walk into the room, he said, “This place is like paradise, I wish we could just stay here forever.”A familiar electricity radiated through his back as Imara put her hand on him. He lifted his arm and slid it around her, drawing her close beside him. “I know it’s just beautiful, isn’t it?” a
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“Hurry up, baby, the shows going to start soon.” Ben waited in the living room of the guest house while Imara got ready for the afternoon matinee in town. As he looked in the mirror over the fireplace, Ben pushed his shaggy black hair back off his face then shook it back out. He hated his ears and how they stuck out, but no matter how he wore his hair, it never quite covered them. He stepped back and turned to the side as he admired his arm muscles and how they stretched the fabric of
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“Welcome to the North Woods, Ben. I’m Lord Nicholas,” said the long black-haired man in a green robe as he stood outside the ancient gates beyond the narrow dirt path.
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As Ben watched the lightning cross the sky from the window, he wiped his hand across his mouth and shook his head. “Dammit Ben! How could you be so fucking stupid?” He took a ragged breath then wiped the tears from his eyes as he heard Imara yawn and stretch herself awake.
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“Ben, have you seen Mr. Rabbit?” Imara yelled from the living room floor with a ball of light by her head.
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Imara stood beside the big picture window nervously playing with her necklace as lightning flashed in the background. “Just relax. It’s just a storm. You’re getting yourself all worked up over nothing.” Summertime in West Virginia brought lots of storms, but this night felt different. Goosebumps rose on her arms and neck as her veins coursed with energy.
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While Selvin’s battered and broken body hung limp from the pole in the dirt floor basement, the storm started to let up outside and in Ben’s heart. Ben wiped his bloody hands on a towel as he panted for breath after the vicious beating he gave Selvin. “Anybody want seconds on this old pathetic asshole?” he asked coldly as he turned to Thorin and Haldir.
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“So, tell me that all the stories about Daniel Darke aren’t true Haldir. Tell me were not traipsing directly into a slaughterhouse. I mean, he can’t be all that bad, right?” asked Thorin as they walked along the dirt path.
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