10. Dahlia #2
I’d just had a shower last night, but I had to calm down a bit before I did something stupid.
I grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom.
I didn’t need to wash my hair, but I still stayed under the water longer than I needed to, trying to ease the tension in my stomach that seemed to be growing every time Asher looked at me.
I hadn’t felt a need like this in months, fear of death had a hand in that I was sure.
And I wasn’t a sexual deviant or anything, even before being kidnapped.
I had enjoyed sex though, and now that Josh was out of the picture, it was something that I wasn’t sure how to find again.
How would I go to a bar and meet someone new, if the entire time I’d been wondering if he’d drug me and lock me in a basement?
What will someone say the first time they see all the scars on my back?
Or fuck, what if they recognized me? The laughter from earlier was gone, replaced by a despair so overwhelming I had to brace myself on the wall.
I took several deep breaths, grounding myself as the water began to cool on my back.
One day at a time. Just get through today.
I turned off the water and got dressed, focusing on the feel of my own clothes on my skin.
As per the doctor’s instructions, I kept things loose and soft.
I had a long flowy skirt that went to my mid-thigh, and I paired that with a loose blouse, one of my favorites.
It was blue with little white flowers along the neckline, dipping just a bit to offer a hint of cleavage while still being appropriate for most settings.
It made me feel very light, and I liked to think the flowers looked a little like Dahlias.
The humidity from the shower had my hair curling a bit, but looking at it in the mirror brought me none of the joy that it used to.
I loved my hair, it was just like my mother’s.
But the way Curing had always put so much effort into my blond hair made my stomach twist. I wanted to ruin that image for him, take that back for myself.
The first chance I got, I was cutting it all over.
Hell, maybe I’d dye it too, a new color for a new me. For the After.
Creeping back out into my room, I poked my head out to see if Asher was still up and about.
I could smell the coffee as soon as I opened the door, and I followed it into the main room, finding him leaning against the counter, a mug already in his hands.
“Is it any good?” I asked, his eyes scanning me in a quick assessment.
His tongue poked out as he licked his lips, and I looked down and smoothed my skirt nervously, trying not to blush.
“It’s not bad. Hunter is a coffee snob, so he’d hate it, but I know how to wrangle a decent cup out of hotel coffee makers,” he told me matter-of-factly, and I smiled.
He grabbed the second mug from the little tray on the counter and rinsed it out in the sink, drying it off before filling it with coffee.
The whole process was so automatic, I wondered how many days a year he spent in a hotel, living day to day out of a suitcase in places that weren’t home.
I took the mug he handed to me, smiling gratefully and heading over to the couch, opting for the comfort of the cushions over the hard plastic of the chairs by the table.
I tucked my legs up so I could sit sideways on the couch, and Asher followed me, sitting down on the opposite side.
“Where do you live?” I asked, lifting the mug to my face so I could inhale the smell as it cooled.
“Here,” Asher replied, mimicking my movements with his own mug. “Oh, I mean, not here like the hotel. But here, in the city,” he amended, and I smiled. “I’ve got an apartment downtown. Actually not too far from here.”
“Oh that’s convenient. Will Hunter come and take a shift so you get to go home for a bit?” I asked, and I thought I saw his lip turn down a bit, but it was quickly hidden by his coffee mug.
“Maybe,” he replied. “He’s still leading the manhunt for Curing and dealing with the media, so he’s going to be pretty busy for the next little while.
” He shrugged. “I don’t mind anyway, I don’t have any plants that need watering or anything.
” I smirked, that somehow fit him perfectly.
I wondered if his apartment consisted of only the necessities, like a more permanent hotel room, or if it was chaotic, a mess of half-finished thoughts and crappy pens.
I felt a pang of loss, remembering I was currently homeless and my life was in a suitcase and a storage unit somewhere.
“Well, let me know if your building has any vacancies,” I joked, but my voice had a bitter edge to it. “I’m apartment hunting now, I guess.”
Asher’s eyes filled with sympathy, but before he could respond there was a knock at the door, causing us both to freeze.
Asher set his coffee down and stood up, pulling his gun before walking to the door.
His whole body was coiled like a spring, and it was such a stark difference from the languid, relaxed man I was used to that it made me shiver.
He looked through the peephole and sighed heavily, stowing his gun once more.
Opening the door, his face twisted in a frown as Hunter walked through, grinning at his partner.
“You said you’d text when you were coming by,” Asher reminded him sharply.
Hunter shrugged, his eyes finding me, and his smirk softened. “I did text, maybe turn your phone off silent smartass,” he replied without looking at him. “Dahlia, you look rested,” he told me, and I smiled, smoothing down my blouse.
“Amanda brought me some of my things, we watched a movie last night,” I replied, and he nodded approvingly, his eyes traveling over me. Asher cleared his throat and stepped between us, and Hunter smirked, his eyebrows quirking up.
“Want some coffee?” Asher asked him, and he laughed and shook his head.
“God no, thanks. No, I bring tidings from the mayor’s office,” he announced, and both men moved around to join me on the couch.
Asher sat down beside me, grabbing his coffee once again.
I noticed that he sat closer to me this time, his body angling to keep Hunter in his sights, almost like he thought Hunter was a threat, which was weird because he never once acted anything but kind to me.
If Hunter noticed, he didn’t say anything, settling into a chair across from us.
“The Mayor would like to have a press conference, updating the public on the case and offering a public show of support for you and the uh, victims’ families,” Hunter explained, and my stomach twisted.
I clutched my mug tighter, willing my hands to not shake.
“So I’d have to… go on TV?” I asked, hunching my shoulders. Asher shifted beside me on the couch, his lips turned down in a scowl.
“Yes, but it would be very quick. He would say something like ‘we are glad you are okay, we pledge our support to you blah blah blah, something about the police force’, pose for a photo, and then questions from the press. You won’t have to say more than five words, basically he just wants someone to stand there and look pretty,” he explained, and I stared into my coffee, mulling it over.
“You don’t have to do this,” Asher told me gently, and I looked up to see him watching me intently. “You can say no and that’ll be that.” I remembered what Hunter had said before, about throwing them a bone so the media would leave me alone. What better bone than the Mayor’s press conference?
“I’ll do it. When is it?” I asked, exhaling quickly. Hunter smiled, but his eyes had a hint of worry in them.
“It’s today at 3 p.m.,” he told me, and my pulse jumped.
I looked down at the outfit I’d picked, smoothing the skirt nervously.
“Listen, it’s not a big deal at all. They’re not expecting you to show up in a suit, or an evening gown, or anything.
Just how you are is perfect.” I smiled wanly, picking at a loose thread on my hem.
“It’s at our building, so we’ll be nice and secure.
You can come with us to the office, hang out there while they get set up, and then we’ll escort you into the conference room.
You won’t be alone even for a moment,” he reassured me, and I nodded absently.
“We could pick up Amanda on the way down. She said she would be off early this afternoon,” Asher announced, and my gaze shot to him, my mouth dropping open in surprise.
Was I more surprised that he and Amanda were talking so much, or that he realized that she was exactly the person to make me feel okay enough to do this?
“Yes, please, that would be wonderful,” I told him quietly.
He nodded and shot Hunter a cryptic look before pulling out his phone.
Was he texting Amanda? Did they text now?
I wondered, a small stab of jealousy going through my chest. I pushed it away, feeling ridiculous.
Who was I, to be jealous of a man who had no ties to me?
“Hey, when am I allowed to get my own phone?” I asked Hunter, whose eyes widened in confusion. “I uh, lost mine when I was taken,” I explained, and he looked chagrined.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of it. Let me look into that for you, okay?” Hunter told me, and my spirits lifted. Asher set his phone down after a minute, taking another sip of his coffee.
“We can stop on the way to the office and pick her up,” he told us, and Hunter nodded quickly.