"Who the fuck is Tom?" Aalam inquired.

"Beats me," JT replied. "But, if he touched her, he is dead meat."

"Probably an ex," Brij mused.

"Brother?" Etash piped in.

"Nah! Can't be family. At least it doesn't sound like it. I'd bet on the ex." Dev chipped in.

The conversation ended as the men reached the parking grounds at the entrance of the training area. Quickly and quietly, they mounted their rides; the click of helmet buckles filling the silence. Seconds later, several engines roared to life, signaling the start of a long journey back to home base.

The drive was a much-needed distraction for JT. He felt completely at ease on the long winding roads, especially when the sky was absolutely clear and the mountains stretched endlessly past the horizon. Not the close-up view. No. The mountainside, up close, was a hotchpotch mess of houses that gleamed in the late evening sun. Ongoing construction for new residences attracted heavy vehicles and mounds of construction material, all of which was piled high on any available flat surface available.

The view that JT found inspiring was that of the parallel range. So far out that houses seemed non-existent; no more than a speck of red, white, green or blue. The damage to the mountain could almost be entirely denied. From this distance, those mountains stood in all their glory, their only visible scarring from past or current landslides. And even that looked beautiful in a dangerous and mysterious way.

The men took turns leading the group home. Single-file on the dangerous road as there was no room for stunts or speeding. They occasionally stopped for a steaming cup of tea that was served in a clay pot (kullar).

Conversation during these breaks was, fortunately, limited to boyish-boasting; who ran the fastest, swam the slowest, jumped the highest – you get the idea. What they didn't do, was dwell over whether they cleared their training. There was no room for doubt there. They knew they had. It just couldn't have gone any other way. And they all knew why. JT

He kicked their asses, held their hands, plastered broken bones on the field, encouraged and motivated them. He pushed them beyond their breaking point, but he also knew how to keep them focused. While all their stories began differently, they had enlisted for personal reasons ranging from patriotism to search for a family to running away from past demons, they all ended the same way. They now lived and breathed for their leader, the man that was as harsh and unrelenting as a teacher, as mature and wise as a father, as rambunctious and nutty as a brother and friend. He was everything to them.

And since they owed him so much, they wanted to do anything for him. They need not worry about what path JT would lead them down. For as surely as they lived and breathed every day, they knew he would never take a walk down the wrong road.

Their career and lives were safe with JT. And that's all they needed. Their trust in him, implicit.

By sunset, the boys saw the familiar spatter of houses that indicated they had reached city limits. They were finally home and all the more cheerful for it!

As they rounded the corner to Sadar Bazar, the boys were still clueless as to JT's plans. He hadn't said a word about the Gwen situation yet, and they had given him space and time he needed to work on his approach.

Planning and strategy was JT's forte. And they knew well enough not to interfere. What caught them off-guard, however, was his strategy for this particular situation. They expected to drive straight to Gwen's and tear down her door in search of this Tom character; bring out the heavy artillery in a hostile situation, so to speak. What JT did instead, was send them all home. All except for Aalam. Eventually, the boys worked it out for themselves. Reconnaissance. That's what JT was after.

Aalam was, on the surface, like any other handsome bastard. He could turn on the charm and disarm most folk. He knew how to study and understand people by watching them. He could even work out their next moves before they knew. He could pry background information with finesse, without making the conversation an interrogation.

When the boys disappeared, JT and Aalam spoke briefly before parting ways. JT had one more stop to make now. Aunt Jasmine's. The last text message Gwen had sent simply said "hungry and out of coffee."

A half hour later, JT pulled up outside Gwen's. He kicked the side stand into place and turned the key. As the lights and engine switched off, the crickets chirping got louder. He got off his bike and stepped up to the front door, removing his helmet in one swift motion. He knocked and waited. Minutes passed by and nothing. He shook the handle wondering if it was locked. And it was. So he knocked again and waited patiently. It was, after all, a big house with several rooms, spread across two floors. She could be anywhere. As his impatience crept up, he ran his hands through his hair. Helmet hair, ugh!

Again, minutes passed by and nothing. He knocked louder this time. All right, more like he hammered till he felt the door would fall off its hinges. When it stopped rattling, he strained to hear footsteps.

Again, nothing.

Worry began settling in, and JT tried the handle again. It groaned and creaked under pressure, but gave way and swung open. Huh. Odd.

Tomorrow, first thing, he was going to have to work on the safety issues. The fences, the doors, locks, glass-less window panes – all of it. Sure the people here were mostly friendly, and crime was limited, with robbery being the worst, but given the Tom situation, he would feel much, much better knowing she was safe behind the walls of this old house.

Plus, there were the animal attacks to worry about. Security should not be taken this lightly under these circumstances.

Pushing the door close behind him, JT took a moment to let his eyes adjust. The silver moonlight slipped in through the cracks and windows, illuminating part of the hall. His eyes fell on the metal box and then the muddy footprints. What in the world had she been up to since he left? In the corner lay a pile of damp and muddy clothes. He tsk-ed and shook his head. Maybe she needed to re-think her cleaning arrangements. Wet clothes on wooden floors? Clearly a recipe for disaster. She'll need someone more permanent.

As quietly as possible, he followed the footprints and ended up before the bathroom. He knocked, just in case she was inside. When there was no response, he pushed the door, and it opened easily. The bathroom fared no better than the hall. Her entire assortment of cleaning products was scattered everywhere. Bottles upturned, some open and dripping contents on the floor. More mud and damp clothes.

He closed the door and with another shake of his head and followed the footprints to the kitchen. The sink had a few dishes, mostly coffee cups. The sugar and coffee containers were left open. Empty packets of instant noodles littered the counter. The electric kettle was on and furiously whistling away. It seems she had filled it and forgotten. When he took a peek inside, he hurriedly switched it off. Almost out of water! This wasn't the Gwen he knew, or at least he thought he knew this much about her.

He cleared some space on the counter and carefully laid down his packages; all the food and necessities that he had grabbed from Aunt Jasmine's. He hadn't known what she liked, so he picked up a little of everything – vegetables, curries, lentils, salad. Even rice. He had grabbed plates and cutlery as well. No more plastic spoons and disposable plates. And he was certain she wouldn't approve of using her hands.

Knowing that there was only one other place where she could be, JT made his way to the largest room. The one with the bay windows. He remembered how she was thrilled to see the windows. In their casual conversation, she had mentioned that they reminded her of the old constructions in London. He figured she'd probably spend most of her time there. Perhaps as a way to deal with the loneliness and nostalgia.

JT knocked on her door and waited for an invite. When none came, he jiggled the handle, and the door creaked open. He peeped in. It was late in the evening, sure. Too late to step outside but not late enough to be asleep already. Perhaps she was exhausted? The condition of the house supported that conclusion.

JT let his eyes wander over the room. The curtains were partly drawn, allowing in more silvery moonlight. He saw her almost immediately, she was curled up in bed like a tiny ball. He whispered her name and got no response. He stepped in quietly. His hands sought the light switch on the wall. Seconds later a rather harsh yellow light flooded the room and JT had to take a minute to let his eyes adjust to the brightness.

He walked up to her mattress that was still placed on the floor, and sat on it. He put a hand on her shoulder and gently shook. She looked, fragile, for some reason. But he knew better. She may be low on confidence, but she could be a spitfire when she needed to be. When she didn't stir, he shook her again. JT chuckled at the situation. Gwen wasn't a light sleeper like most women he knew. He wondered if she snored as well.

When she finally woke, Gwen stretched to her full length before sitting up. She reminded him of a cat. Sleek, smooth, a little lazy, anti-social, but adorable and graceful nonetheless.

Once she sat up, he didn't notice the short shirt in which she had slept. Nor the pale smoothness of her legs. He hadn't seen the dark red she had painted her fingers or toes – the contrast making her pale skin seem translucent as if that were possible.

The way her hair fell around her face and the relief in her eyes when she noticed him, all failed to catch his attention as well.

All JT noticed were the bruises on both her wrists and the split and swollen lip she sported.

Tom had hurt her! And by all that was holy, Tom would pay for his mistake!

He forced his eyes to meet hers and pulled a smile on his lips, even though it was not a smiling situation. When Gwen's hands slipped into his, that's when he felt a genuine smile work its way out. Then she hugged him!

Now, everything made more sense. Tom had ambushed her, attacked her. He had probably threatened her as well. Physical and mental exhaustion and perhaps even the loneliness he knew she had felt all this while had taken over. Maybe even a bout of depression? Though he could not be sure at the moment. No wonder the house was a mess.

He warmly returned her hug, gently rubbing her back before he whispered softly in her ear, "Hungry? Aunt Jasmine would be positively upset if you didn't eat everything she packed. And she packed everything!"

Gwen laughed softly. "Starving," she said, the spark returning in her eyes. She made her way to the kitchen, JT following close. He stood in the doorway and quietly watched as she washed her hands and splashed water on her face at the sink. After closing the tap, she dried her hands by patting them on her nightshirt. The shirt now sported two wet handprints right across her bottom. She grabbed a clean dish towel and patted her face dry next. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she bent over the various containers and breathed in deeply.

"Ohh that smells absolutely divine!" Then she stood on her toes and began rummaging through the overhead cupboards for serving dishes and spoons. Her shirt hiked higher and higher with each movement. Suddenly feeling very awkward, JT felt the need to cough.

"You okay?" Gwen asked turning to look at him. JT nodded and walked over to the counter. He needed to keep himself busy. Standing at the door was a bad, bad idea!

Minutes later, JT and Gwen were seated comfortably by the bay window, eating and chatting. The mood was light, and for that he was grateful. From the looks of it, she had dealt with enough while he was gone and he would give her some reprieve before asking the questions that were burning in his mind.

"You did what?" he gawked as she recounted last night's rainstorm and her adventure at the cemetery. So that explains the muddy mess, he thought. He shook his head and chided her. "You know better Gwen. There's no point in being reckless on the mountain. If you hope to live here a long, long time, you must learn to abide by simple safety rules. No more gallivanting up and down the mountainside in the pouring rain!"

"I know, I know," she said grinning. "Sooo, how about it?" she asked shoving the last of her food into her mouth.

"How about what?" JT asked. Somewhere in between, he had stopped listening and had gotten lost in his thoughts.

Gwen gathered their plates and punched his arm with her free hand before making her way to the kitchen. "Men! You're all the same. Tune out when a girl talks and pretend you are listening."

JT followed her to the kitchen, shamelessly admiring the curve of her legs and bottom. "Huh?" he said when she prompted him again.

"See? You're doing it again! You're very distracted today," she teased.

"Mhmmm," he said forcing his eyes to look anywhere but at her bottom.

"The sink is full. Mind if I help you clear the dishes?" There! That ought to be distraction enough for him.

She sighed in defeat, looking around at the kitchen. How could a person own so little, and yet make such a big mess?

"No," she whispered. The exhaustion replacing the light mood she had only seconds ago. "It can wait till morning. Like so many other things. I know you want to ask about Tom, and thank you for not bringing it up, but I just want to go back to bed."

"All right," JT said and nodded in understanding. He was exhausted too. The anger from before was dying out now. After everything he'd been through with the training and the drive, a good night's sleep was very welcome.

Having finally run out of conversation, the two fidgeted for a few minutes. The awkwardness they both felt when it was time to say goodbye, returned.

"I guess I should be heading home," JT said as he fumbled in his pockets for his keys.

"Please stay," Gwen whispered. "The door doesn't lock too well, and I'd feel better knowing you are here," she continued. Absentmindedly, she rubbed at her sore and bruised wrists and the anger and resolve from before returned to JT.

"Probably best if I do," he said wondering if Tom was indeed foolish enough to pay her a second visit. Maybe he assumed she was here all by herself and had no one to lean on thus allowing him to terrorize her at will.

Well, he would change that, wouldn't he? After all, protecting people was his life's calling and here was this fragile being that seemed to need him desperately. How could he refuse?

"So where do I sleep?" he asked smiling. The warmth of his chocolate eyes engulfed Gwen, and she found herself smiling again. And then the dimple flashed! She couldn't help but blush. He was a charming bugger, and she found herself very attracted to him.

"I have only one mattress," she said. Slowly, she pivoted on her heels while surveying the room. "And no couch as you can see."

A barely audible groan slipped past JT's lips. This was going to be a very, very, long night!