Chapter Twelve
Brynn
Donna wasn’t lying; work is slammed.
I’ve barely had time to breathe, let alone check my phone. When my shift is over, I step outside the restaurant and mildly panic when I don’t see my car anywhere, but then I remember I drove Killian’s car.
Then I remember I texted him hours ago and never looked at my phone again, so I dig it out of my purse on the way to his car.
I see his latest text, but given it’s overlapping notifications, I take it there’s more than one.
“I see how it is. You steal my car and then ignore me.”
I crack a smile as I slide into the driver’s side seat. “Sorry, I was at work. I do a breakfast hostessing shift every Sunday morning. I was late today. Fell asleep with my cat and forgot to set my alarm.”
“You ditched me for a cat,” he answers a few seconds later.
“Well, a cat and an iPad alarm, but I forgot to set that.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Fighting the urge to nap,” I text back. “I’m about to have a snack and do some studying before my next shift.”
“Your next shift?”
“I work a dinner shift today as well. Waitressing at an Italian place that has very good pizza. The tips are just okay, but at least I get some cash to tide me over until payday. Sundays are hell, I work all day, then I also have to squeeze in studying between shifts, so… yeah. Hell, lol.”
“Sounds hellish indeed. Do you have an early class tomorrow?”
“No, I take it easy on myself on Mondays since I’m recovering from Sunday and I have a lot of studying to do for Tuesday. I have a class from 10:30 to 11:45, but that’s it for my Monday. What about you?”
“My first class is at 10:30, too. Do you eat at the second job, or will you be hungry after?”
“I’ll be famished.”
“Great. Then you can bring my car back and I’ll make us something to eat.”
“You cook?” I ask with interest before realizing I can’t go to his place again.
“I eat, don’t I? I better know how to cook.”
I sigh happily. “I love a man that can cook. Unfortunately, I can’t hang out tonight. I’ll be dead on my feet after running around all day, so I won’t be much fun. And I need to feed my cat.”
“You need to feed your cat,” he replies, and I can practically hear his deadpan tone through the phone screen.
“And hang out with her,” I text back. “She misses me.”
“What if I miss you?”
My heart drops right out of its cavity at the unexpected flirtation. “You don’t,” I shoot back, “You’re just used to getting your way.”
“Maybe. In any case, you’re coming over. We can do it the easy way or the hard way.”
“What does the hard way entail?”
“Keep telling me no and you’ll find out.”
I crack a smile. “I mean, I haven’t actually SAID the word no…”
“Good. Don’t start now.”
I sigh, but before I have a chance to answer, he texts again.
“What time do you get off?”
“The restaurant closes at nine, but I’ll have to clean up. Then I have to swing by the apartment to feed Toast, so I can probably be there by ten.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.”
___
My brain is fried by the time I’m leaving work.
I didn’t feel unsafe earlier because it was daytime. It’s been a dreary day, but the sky was bright enough so there was no darkness to hide in.
Can’t say that now.
Ordinarily I have no problem going to my car by myself, but as it got later tonight, I found myself worrying. My phone was unlocked for a long time last night, so it’s likely the guys went through it. I don’t know if there’s evidence of where I work in my phone, but my best bet is probably to assume there is and to operate under the assumption that by now, they could know where I work and what time I get off.
Julie, one of the other waitresses, notices me lingering by the door on her way out. “Are you waiting for a ride?”
“No, just… hyping myself up to walk to my car,” I say lightly.
She eyes me strangely, which I suppose is fair. “You want me to walk with you?”
“No. Thank you, but I’m okay.” I flash her a smile to assure her, and after a moment she leaves.
I might feel safer with an escort, but there’s no way in hell I’d risk her safety as well as mine. The guys that might be after me are rapey assholes, and they would likely outnumber us. If I’m going to have an escort, I’m gonna need a guy.
I think about going to the kitchen to get one of the guys back there to walk me outside, but then I think about them making fun of me about it for the rest of my life, and I decide it’s not worth it.
Before I step outside, I open the phone so both of my contacts are easily clickable in case of emergency. I parked close to the door even though we’re not supposed to so I wouldn’t have to walk far, and I’ll walk fast.
It will be fine.
I hate the dread that stays with me as I speedwalk out the door and to Killian’s car. I feel safer once I’m inside with the doors locked, but I still look around to make sure no one is waiting in the shadows.
Then I start the car and get the hell out of here.
The dread starts all over again when I get home. I don’t even bother looking for a spot behind the building. I park on the street since I won’t be here long, then I hustle inside, my heart pounding until the moment I close and lock my apartment door.
Toast is curled up on the couch, but her eyes open when I come inside. I smile at her and walk over to give her a little head scratch. “Hey, pretty girl. Let’s get you some dinner, hm?”
She uncurls and stretches, so I go to the kitchen to get her a tin of food and dish it out in her little bowl.
Stacie must be in her bedroom. I try not to make too much noise in case she’s studying because I know how thin the walls are.
I’m making good time, so I decide to hop in the shower to wash the smell of restaurant off me and actually do something with my hair. I brush on a quick coat of mascara and grab a backup lip gloss since my favorite was in my clutch last night, then I wrap my towel around me and open the bathroom door.
I stop dead when I see the silhouette of a man standing in the kitchen.
My heart sinks. The stranger is tall and broad-shouldered, dressed in a navy-blue hoodie and jeans. His hair is dark and spiky, and he has a lean build that feels familiar.
The bathroom light is still on behind me, so the man turns to look at the bright spot in the darkness. He sees me standing here in nothing but a bath towel.
“What a nice surprise,” he says, and my heart stalls because I know that voice.
I heard it last night when he was on top of me in that basement.
Aiden.
He starts toward me, and I dart down the hall to my bedroom. I try to get the door closed before he can reach me, but I hesitate, realizing I don’t know where Toast is.
If she’s out there, he could hurt her. I don’t know him, but what I do know makes me think he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt an animal.
I know he’ll hurt me if he gets his hands on me, though, so I slam the door shut and turn the lock a mere moment before he grabs the handle.
I back away fearfully, my eyes glued to the doorknob. My whole body is shaking, and I don’t know what to do.
The phone.
I brought it to the bathroom to keep an eye on the time, so I have it in my purse. I reach in to grab it.
The doorknob rattles and my heart nearly stops.
From the other side of the door, he says, “Come on, Brynn. I just want to talk.”
Arrogance drips from every taunting word and turns my stomach.
“I have nothing to say to you. Get out of my apartment right now. I’m calling for help, and you don’t want to be here when they get here.”
I refuse to engage with him beyond that, but I need him to get the hell out of here. I need him to leave before it occurs to him to do anything else.
My cat is somewhere, and my roommate is down the hall.
There are so many ways this can go bad.
I debate for a second if I should call Ripley or Killian, but I have Killian’s car. Even if he cares more than his friend, he doesn’t have a way to get here, and with Aiden inside my apartment, every second counts.
I press call on Ripley’s number.
It rings twice, and then he answers. “I thought I told you to stay out of trouble.”
“There’s a man in my apartment. It’s one of the guys from last night. Aiden.”
The lazy amusement melts out of his tone and he’s all business when he asks, “Are you somewhere safe?”
“Kind of? I’m in my bedroom with the door locked.” The door won’t hold if he really wants to get in here, but I don’t say that given he’s likely listening on the other side.
“Is there anyone else in the apartment?”
“Yes.”
He waits a second for me to explain, and when I don’t, he guesses. “Your roommate?”
“Yes.”
“Did he come alone?”
“I think so,” I tell him. “I don’t know, I was in the shower and then when I opened the bathroom door, he was in my kitchen. Are you close?”
“I’m not, but someone will be there in a couple of minutes.”
I gasp, startled, when something brushes my foot. Then I nearly dissolve into a puddle of relief when Toast brushes up against my leg.
I’ve never been so happy she was hiding under the bed.
I want to shove her back under there in case he comes in, but instead I scoop her up and hold her close.
It’s quiet on the other side of the door. The handle isn’t jiggling. He hasn’t said anything else, so I can’t even be sure he’s still there.
But maybe that’s what he wants me to think.
“Is he trying to get in?”
“I… I don’t know. He tried to open the door when I first came in, but…”
“He stopped? Do you hear him?”
“No.”
Cognizant that Aiden could still be listening, I don’t want to say too much on my end. My stomach is in knots, and I can’t draw a full breath.
The panic is setting in.
Shit.
“Are you okay?” the guy on the phone asks, probably noticing my breathing patterns have changed.
“Yeah, he isn’t in here or anything, I just… can’t breathe.”
I thought since I didn’t have a panic attack last night, I might be okay now, but my heart is racing, and I feel the familiar crushing weight of fear in my chest. My breath hitches, and I feel like I might pass out, but I can’t. If I do and he is on the other side of that door, he could come in and do anything to me.
My cruel imagination conjures the image. I shove it away, but not before it’s burned into my brain.
It doesn’t make me breathe any easier, but I put Toast down on the bed and grab panties to put on. I need to get dressed. Being naked doesn’t help.
There’s a buzzing in my brain and everything feels foggy. I watch my hand as I reach into the dresser drawer, and it’s like it belongs to someone else. I cock my head curiously, turning my hand over to watch the movement, but I don’t feel connected to it. I remain detached as I watch myself step into the panties and pull them up, but with the detachment comes calm.
The buzzing won’t stop, but it’s like I’m watching a movie now where the audio has gone out.
I don’t want to be here.
So I’m not.
I back up against the wall, but I don’t feel the cheaply painted drywall dragging against my bare back as I slide to the floor. I pull my knees close and wrap my arms around them. Dimly, I realize I put the phone down on the bed when I was still on the call, but I don’t care.
The doorknob jiggles again. Distantly, I hear someone call, “Brynn, open up. He’s not out here.”
But I’m too far away from the door. It’s like I’m looking at it from the end of a long hall. There’s no way I can reach, and I’m not getting up and going back to open it. I’m staying right here.
“It’s Shane from last night,” he tries again. “I picked up you and Killian. This is the last warning you’re gonna get. If you’re able to, let me in.”
I don’t.
And he doesn’t wait much longer.
I hear something ram into it from the other side, then the door flies open with a loud crash, the handle slamming against the wall.
I hear heavy footsteps as he lets himself into my room and comes straight over to me. The scent of the cologne I smelled in the car last night wafts my way as he crouches down to check on me.
“Are you all right?”
His voice sounds faraway. I didn’t see his face last night, but I’m surprised by it today. He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way, with a grizzled jawline and full lips. He has big hands and muscular thighs. Big everything.
His mouth is set in a grim line as he looks me over. He looks haunted, almost like he’s watched this scene play out before.
And there’s a hardness in his eye like it pisses him off.
That doesn’t seem right, though.
He hardly knows me, and he was fine helping Killian last night when it was clear I didn’t want to be there.
Then again, I suppose whatever reluctance I had to go with Killian, it didn’t result in me dissociating on my bedroom floor, wearing nothing more than a pair of panties.
I look down and realize I dropped my towel somewhere, so nothing is covering me. Shane isn’t looking, but now aware that I’m topless, I start to feel again.
Embarrassment opens the floodgates.
Fear rushes in.
Not fear in this moment, but the fear I closed out before when I couldn’t handle it.
I should have known. Distancing myself only buys me time, it doesn’t solve the problem.
I draw in a hitching breath, and then another. Panic crashes back over me and escalates quickly because I can’t breathe.
Shane’s big hand wraps around my bicep and he says “hey,” to get my attention.
I look at him, my eyes wide with panic.
“Breathe,” he says firmly. “Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
I try to follow his instructions, but the fear overpowers me, and I start to shake. Tears fill my eyes. I can’t hold it together anymore.
This isn’t fair.
I was supposed to have a fresh start here. I wasn’t supposed to feel like this ever again.
Shane reaches out and gently touches my face, trying to get me to look at him. I do, and he says, “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”
I want to believe him, but I don’t.
I’m not safe. I’ve never been safe, and maybe I never will be.