C1 Married To A Hunter, Falling In Love With A Wolf (Part 1)
Fur Rivers, Louisiana
It all began on a cold, blistering, chilling night in January. The moon - just sliding out comfortably from behind the fluffy clouds - looked big and white like the face of a dead man.
The time was past seven. In one of the well-lit apartments which lined the streets of Fur Rivers quarters, Nessa Nayder stepped out of the shower and crossed the room to the big mirror in the room. She sat down on a stool, picked up her hairbrush and began to brush her long, glossy hair lousy, taking her time. When she was done, she stood up and crossed the room to the closet. She opened the doors, selected a grey wool sweatshirt and black pants. She struggled into the sweaters and slid into the pants she wore her shoes. She crossed the room to the big, blown mirror again and looked herself over. Satisfied, she smiled wanly and moved out of the room.
As she stepped out of the house, a gust of cold, cutting wind, swirled to where she stood, and wash over her. She shivered as she rubbed her hands together, grateful for the thick sweaters she had wore. She waited for some moment, staring up at the sky, her eyes ravelling at the size of the moon and how white it looked. Then she drew in a long, slow breath and began to make her way to the town’s bar.
The bar was one of the oldest buildings in the town of Fur Rivers. It was big and strong. The building itself was made from old, thick, solid hickory wood. The bar was run by a man named Sam Wesley; born and bred in Fur Rivers. A man of the soil as some folks would say. Nessa sometimes drops in once In a while to help Sam run the bar, especially during those times he had to cope with the rush of the patrons. For this, Sam pays her some wages and because he doted on her so much, he sometimes overpays her. Due to some certain reasons – if he had a choice – he wouldn’t allow Nessa to even go near the bar but she always has a way of getting things done her way.
This night then, Nessa sauntered into the bar and look around. The patrons were still all there. Laughing, giggling, cheering whistling boisterously. As she walked over to the bar, some of the men in the room, regarded her, their drunk, leery eyes striping her luscious body, inch by inch, curves by curves. The men whistled. And there were some catcalls. Some men leered at her, sardonic, predatory expressions on their faces. None of them made the move to talk to her. They were like most drunk, sex-starved, perverted men; all mouth and no balls. Nessa ignored them all. She got to the bar, pull out a stool and sat on it. Sam – with a leather worn face, white shock of hair, strong, wiry hands and arranging some wines in the wine shelves – swung around when he heard movements behind him. His old, tired stricken face creased into a warm smile when he saw Nessa.
“My child,” he said grinning. “When I heard the boys and their damned laughter, I should have known.”
"Those lousy fools,” Nessa said, shrugging indifferently.” They are always like that and they would always be like that. Seriously, I don’t give a damn about what they think of me”
Sam studied her beautiful, well accentuated face and shook his head. What a raving virago, he thought proudly. Aged twenty six, Nessa was a brunette with a long, glossy hair, high-breasted body, full solid hips, long legs and long, narrow feet, violet eyes that shone like emeralds and luscious, soft lips that promises paradise and a face that reflected deep sensitivity: a face that was ready to smile, laugh or frown.
“You know they do have a point” Sam continued, his eyes gentle and affectionate. “You know that don’t you?”
“No they don’t!” Nessa seethed out. “But I don’t care Sam. As long as you are here, I feel safe. I know you’ll protect me. That’s why I’ll always will keep coming here. And no one, dare stop me!”
Sam shook his head, a resigned expression on his face.
“You are always a tough one, Nessa. A tough one that’s what you are. You know there’s so little protection a man of my age can do!”. His eyes went to the men who had continue their drinking, then back to the Nessa’s face. “it’s no good for a woman, especially a good looking lad as you coming here. You can only come here on those busy days we agreed on. During those times, the men are less tense and more sane. But not nights like this when the men are cold and all riled up” He made helpless gestures with his hands. “It’s not healthy child. It could be bring some sort of trouble your way.” He paused and went on” And you know, when a man is drunk, and he sees a beautiful woman, he could begin to have some funny ideas In his head. Now think of a room full of drunks with one beautiful gal hanging around. What do you think would happen?” his grey eyes looked questioning at her.
Nessa shrugged indifferently.
"I don’t know, Sam” She said blandly. “I only came here to cool off and see you. Now, give me a gin, Sam. Straight up! And don’t you think of refusing me one”
Sam shook his grey head, resigned.
“A tough one, Nessa. A tough one, that’s what you are” He said again. He picked up a bottle of Vodka, sloshed the drink into a glass and gave it to Nessa. She picked up the glass and downed the drink. She shivered slightly as the drink stiffened her nerves then warming her. She passed the glass to Sam to fix her another drink. He regarded her, a resigned expression on his face and obliged her. Sam had knew her since she was a kid. Nessa’s mother, Liza and he had been close friends, everything between them had been platonic. While Sam had been running his bar, Nessa’s mother had done housekeeping jobs for some of the well off folks in the town. None of the folks who she worked for ever complained about her. Everybody in the town loved her. She was always cheerful, charming and care-free, a rare quality especially in a slow thriving, low income and dry town like Fur Rivers.
During that time, folks from those part of town in those days were always hungry looking and hostile. But Nessa’s mother was built different. When a flu had hit the town and she had lost her life – the folks in the town felt her absence. As a result of her good deeds and her friendship with Sam, he had taken up Nessa’s, who was twelve years old then into his home, nurse her, fed her and treated her like his own daughter. Some of the good folks of the town also took up the welfare of Nessa. Small token of contributions were donated. All these were giving to Sam who had a reputation of been a straight arrow. Sam took care of Nessa as if she were his own child and in return; Nessa loved him greatly; so much that she sometimes calls him father, making old Sam to reveal his clean, old, teeth in a wide, embarrassed grin.
Just as he was fixing the drink, the door of the bar pushed forcefully open and two men in black overcoats walked into the bar. Both men were tall and powerfully built. Their black hats was well put down over their faces. Almost abruptly, the noise in the bar went down a notch and a cold silence that you could hang a hat on descended on the room. The men in the room stared hard at the two strangers as they both strolled........side by side...... leisurely to the bar. They both pull out a stood and sat down heavily. They did not even look at Nessa who was staring at them, an aloof look on her face. One of them said to Sam.
“Tequila on the rocks! Double! And Fast!” His voice was hard and roughened.
Sam nodded, moistened his lips with his tongue, went on to fix the drink, served them and edged away to a corner of the bar. He went on cleaning the glasses but every now and then he stole a quick glance at the two black clad men.
By now, the noise of the bar had resumed, but some of the men continued to watch the two strangers......it was as if expecting they were expecting something to happen.
One of the strangers, turned his head sideway. His eyes caught Nessa whom was watching what Sam was doing keenly. He whistled under his breath and licked his lips. His name was Boris. He regarded her for a long moment, then he turned to his other partner and whispered in his ears.
The other man named Kraven dragged his eyes to Nessa. He studied her for a moment then he winked his eyes at his partner. Boris gave a hard smile, brought out a pack cigarettes from his pockets, shook out one, stick it into his mouth, brought out a lighter, cupped his hand around the cigarette and lit it. While he was doing all these, his eyes never left Nessa. He drew in smoke, let it out in a long, spiral to the ceilings and edged his stool closer to her.
“Whatcha doing here, pumpkin?” his voice was soft and yet there was indefinable steel in it.
