Tempted by love

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The icy, cold wind howled wildly outside the house. It rattled and shook the windows in rage, throttling it in its white frame. From the inside I blew my hot breath on the frost bitten window. Writing my name over and over, watching in silence as each time it disappeared. Finally, I gave up, leaning my forehead against the cold glass that separated the warmth from the ice. I was bored. Any plain fool would see it in my lack of fun activities over the past four days as I sat by the great bay window.               

My father had just upped and ditched me with a knocked out soldier in his war against the insurgent rebel group that rose up against the government who had declared a state of emergency. I was still hazy about the details but the news had outlined the mass problem. John King. He was the instigator behind the whole ‘take over the government conspiracy’.

A silent, elusive threat no one saw coming. He killed the president, took over the states existing nuclear weapons turning it on everyone’s heads, the white house was no longer operational because John King turned it into his castle and Wall Street had crashed. But, that was only the beginning. Now, John King was threatening to take over the world. It was all about world domination and power. No one could stick a match to him. People cowered in fear of his name and the National Guard had gone independent trying to piece back what King had broken. My father was so proud of his army and the progress they were making. His life and glory that seemed to be making headlines in the news these days.               

The world was a mess, well our country was broken, but coping still trying to go on as normal, I mean what would power mean if there were no kingdom to rule? I started thinking about the unconscious, wounded soldier in the upstairs guest room; it was time for his wounds to be dressed again.

 I sighed.

At least I had something to do again besides watching repeats on TiVo. I wondered when my father would return. However, being a big believer in the signs around me, I had a feeling it wouldn’t be any time soon. “Danger, Ari,” he had said to me before leaving me inside the wood cabin, hidden amongst the trees and snowy hills. “It’s spreading like an infected disease and I won’t risk it getting to you.”                

“What about the guy upstairs?” I asked, tensely.

I was starting to fidget and fiddle with my thumbs. My father didn’t like it when I did that. He said my behavior allowed me to show weakness, anxiety was a weakness for him. For the enemies out there, it would be like digging in a gold mine to exploit it. For him, General Hale said that his soldiers should stand tall and look fear in the eye. There was no room to show weakness and when he narrowed his eyes at my behavior, I stopped and straightened up.                                     

“When he awakes, you must give him that package,” he replied. My father had pointed to a brown box that sat on the coffee table. “Put that in a safe place, will you? I need to leave soon.” He had looked down to see the time on his silver Rolex watch. Then he went around the house checking the bolts and locks on every entry point before saying, “Don’t leave the house, Ari. Whatever you do, don’t leave the house. Look after my soldier, I trust you to take care of him and he will look after you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”                                      

I shrugged.

Where would I go?

My father had hurdled back into my life back only to pull me out from it. He was rambling about how bad things had gotten, that it wasn’t safe anymore. I secretly realised he was showing weakness, something he rarely did and it was putting him on edge knowing what he was doing. I hadn’t confronted him of his mistake, though. It would upset him even more and our relationship was already on thin ice.

I kept thinking about my friends Freya and Dixie, how they were probably taking refuge somewhere in Pennsylvania with their boyfriends Matt Tyler and Ronald Junior. I could remember sitting on the floor of Freya’s living room. Careless cigarette burn holes marked the Oriental rug that I sat on as I watched ESPN news that showed horrific and frantic images of the destruction in the major capital cities. John King was worst than Hitler and Bin Laden. The war was only just beginning.                                       

The soldier was apparently my father’s best. Though, it could beg the question how that was possibly be true when he was half dying and couldn’t even fend for himself right now and needed someone like me to take care of him.

 I quietly made my way to the room upstairs, my hand glided up the glossy wooden banister. I scoffed. My father’s pride and glory in the defense force that protected the good from the bad. I was jealous. Slightly. Of course, I was an attention starved daughter of a man who’d rather prefer a son if he ever had the choice in the matter.                       

And, the guy upstairs was the ideally what his ‘son’ would be like if General Hale ever had a son.

I made my way up the fifteen steps that led to a platform that overlooked the living room area decorated in deep reds and chocolate browns. I had taken a breath before the second door on my right before entering it. However, there was no one inside.

I glanced over the room, bemused by what I saw. The crumpled and crinkled, white bed-sheets were in a mess on the edge of the bed and there were bloody gauze bandages scattered on the floor.

There was no sight of General Hale’s ‘perfect’ soldier. I started to search the house for the missing person. He wouldn’t have gone very far. His deadly injuries would have made him too weak to have gotten away that fast. It felt as if I were playing a game of hide and seek. On the contrary, I was no longer a child to be playing such childish games. Considering the falling state of the nation, I needed to be more serious about life.

Every room upstairs was empty and the missing soldier remained missing. Geez, he really was taking this game seriously. I went back down the stairs to check if he was on the ground floor. Everything around me seemed still and silent. Nothing was wrong nor out of place. It was then that I heard a sudden rattle in the kitchen.                                             

The noise sounded sharp and quick, drawers were opening and closing, steel clinking and clanking against metal. I exhaled noisily and stomped towards the kitchen where every noise inside settled down in a hush. Just as I had entered the kitchen, my back was brutishly pressed, my honey blonde hair swung from the rash jerk, up against the wall and the cold metal of a butcher’s knife was being held tightly against my throat, much to my distressing horror. The sharpness was threatening to pierce the soft skin and I had cried out trying to escape the threat of the knife.