Chapter 5

An hour passed. Clara's teeth chattered violently, the sound loud in her own ears. Her fingers had turned stiff, pale, and completely numb in the freezing night air.

The cabin door suddenly unlocked. The loud, sharp click of the deadbolt startled Clara out of her freezing, hazy daze.

Harrison stepped out onto the porch. He was wearing a thick, dark wool jacket. A lit cigarette dangled loosely from his lips, the tip glowing bright orange in the dark.

He leaned his forearms against the wooden porch railing. He intentionally ignored Clara's presence as he exhaled a long, thick plume of white smoke into the cold air.

Clara slowly pushed herself up from the floorboards. Her stiff, freezing joints ached in loud protest, her legs barely able to support her weight.

She stumbled forward clumsily. She stopped just a few feet away from him. The rich, sharp smell of his tobacco mixed heavily with the scent of pine and cold dirt.

Harrison did not look at her. His dark, unreadable eyes remained fixed on the distant, black tree line. His jaw was set in a hard, unforgiving line.

Driven entirely mad by the bone-deep cold and absolute fear of tomorrow, Clara made a rash, deeply humiliating decision to force his hand.

With trembling, numb fingers, Clara reached for the metal zipper of her thin jacket. She pulled it down past her chest, the cold air immediately biting her skin.

She grabbed the collar of her worn, faded t-shirt beneath. She violently yanked the fabric down, exposing her pale, shivering shoulder and delicate collarbone to the freezing wind.

Clara stepped directly into his line of sight. Her voice shook violently as she told him he could have her body right now, tonight, if he just let her inside where it was warm.

Harrison froze completely. The glowing ember of his cigarette illuminated the sudden, dark, and dangerous shift in his eyes.

He turned his head slowly. His gaze dropped to her exposed, violently shivering skin. His expression was completely unreadable, a terrifying mask of stillness.

Clara held her breath. Her lungs burned. Her face burned with intense, suffocating shame. Hot tears of pure humiliation threatened to spill over her cold cheeks.

Instead of lust, a look of profound disgust and explosive anger flashed across Harrison's handsome face. The muscles in his neck tightened visibly.

He dropped his cigarette onto the porch floorboards. He crushed it out violently beneath the heel of his heavy leather boot, grinding it into dust.

Harrison reached out with blinding speed. His large hand gripped her delicate wrist with terrifying, iron strength.

Clara gasped loudly. She tried to pull her arm back instinctively, but his grip was completely unbreakable, locking her in place.

With his other hand, Harrison aggressively grabbed her jacket collar. He pulled it back up and zipped it forcefully to her chin in one swift, angry motion.

He leaned in close, his face inches from hers. His voice was a lethal, quiet whisper as he asked her if she honestly thought her body was worth that much to a man like him.

Clara flinched hard. The cruel, dismissive mockery in his words cut far deeper into her chest than the freezing wind ever could.

Harrison released her wrist abruptly. He pushed her slightly backward by the shoulders, creating a harsh physical distance between them.

He turned on his heel. He grabbed her canvas duffel bag from the corner of the porch and effortlessly threw it off the edge into the dark yard.

The heavy bag landed with a wet, heavy thud. It splashed cold, dirty mud all over the faded canvas fabric.

Harrison pointed a rigid finger toward the dark dirt path. His voice boomed with absolute authority as he ordered her off his property immediately, telling her never to return.

Clara stared at him. She felt completely shattered. Her stomach hollowed out as she realized her ultimate, desperate sacrifice was viewed as nothing but cheap trash.

She slowly stepped off the porch. Her legs shook so badly she almost collapsed. She walked into the dark yard to retrieve her ruined, muddy bag.

She wiped the wet mud from the fabric with numb fingers. Her tears finally fell freely, mixing with the dirt on her cold cheeks, tasting of salt and defeat.

Clara turned back to look at the porch one last time. But Harrison was already gone.

The heavy wooden door slammed shut with finality. The deadbolt clicked loudly, finalizing her absolute, humiliating rejection in the dark.