Chapter 2
Chapter
Two
BLAIRE
“Dammit,” I muttered, dropping the unruly lock of hair that didn’t want to stay pinned back. I snatched the bobby pin, but a quick glance at my watch told me I didn’t have time to mess around with my hair. I would have to do it in the bathroom at work.
An important meeting with my boss this morning meant I needed to look like I hadn’t been up all night. I grabbed a handful of bobby pins, and slid my feet into my faithful black pumps. My brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders yet, a theme that seemed all too common for me lately.
Caffeine. Caffeine would help.
I grabbed my work bag, and closed the door behind me, triple checking all my locks before I left.
Something I learned trying to fill in the gaps in my memories was that mistakes never really went away. They just manifested elsewhere.
I wish I knew what mistakes I had made, but a lot of my memories were bits and pieces, stuck together with tape and glue. Regardless, I made it work. I did what I had to do to get by, and in most cases I did more than just get by. Like at work, where I thrived.
With no living family, I taught myself to be capable on my own. I never seemed to be able to keep a friend for long either. But being good at being alone and unlearning loneliness were two separate things.
As I stormed the busy sidewalks to the nearest café for my morning coffee fix, I desperately sorted through my memories, trying to pinpoint which one was the culprit of these nightmares. Lost in my own thoughts, I didn’t notice where I was going until I walked face first into another body.
“Watch where you’re going!”
I yanked my head up to see an older man brushing off his nice suit.
“I’m so sorry.” I detached myself from him, pulling my bag up on my shoulder.
He muttered something under his breath and stomped off, straightening his sleeve as he went.
I groaned, scrubbing my hand over my face as throngs of people swarmed around me. Some commented. Some just walked right past, not giving another glance to the woman standing completely still in the middle of the sidewalk.
I was getting sloppy. And the lack of sleep was getting worse.
I should make another appointment with my therapist, but not until after my meeting with Harry.
Fuck. This was not what I needed. Not when the promotion was so close.
What if I never slept again? How long could the human body go without good sleep, anyway?
Wasn’t the dream technically sleeping, though?
Shaking my head, I threw my shoulders back.
I could do this. I could carefully zip all of my fears into a tiny part of myself, and deal with them at a better time.
Right now, I needed to be the Blaire work expected, who was confident and capable.
Not a mess in the middle of the streets, bemoaning a fucking nightmare like she was a child.
Compartmentalize, Blaire.
I walked the last few blocks to the small coffee shop, the bell chiming as I strode inside.
Being so close to the university, it was mostly a student place, but I liked it well enough.
It had what I needed. I placed my order with the young barista and stood off to one side as I waited for my coffee and bagel.
I could already imagine the caffeine hitting my bloodstream.
My brain would eagerly accept the offering, and I would forget all about the stupid dream.
It wouldn’t cross my mind again. Until I stumbled home at the end of the work day, to sit in my empty apartment and wait for bedtime, knowing the dream would be my only companion yet again.
I stifled a laugh. Maybe I just needed to get laid. Now that was a solution my therapist had yet to offer.
I glanced down at my watch. I wasn’t late—yet—but I would be if my coffee wasn’t ready soon, though.
Letting my eyes roam the café, I studied its patrons, none of them the wiser to my internal dilemma. College kids sat with extra-large drinks in front of computers. A mom wrangled a couple of sweet looking kids, trying to get them to eat the pastries in front of them.
Suddenly, something wasn’t right. Pinpricks of anxiety ran up my back, trailing down my legs.
I knew what the feeling was. Years of anticipating it meant it was easy to define. As I was watching everyone else, someone was watching me.
Turning slowly toward the counter, I kept my eyes slightly downcast to not appear so obvious. It didn’t matter, because as soon as I noticed him, our gazes locked.
I hadn’t seen him in here before. Not that it meant anything. After all, it was a big city. Something told me I would’ve noticed him, though. He stood out here, in the small café, amongst the clean-cut patrons, leaning near the side door like he was waiting for someone to arrive.
Nothing about him screamed clean-cut. Dark curls tumbled across his forehead. His shirt did nothing to hide his lean physique, and black tattoos decorated his crossed arms. He was probably a bit older than I was.
I could make out the edges of what looked like a scorpion tail peeking out around his neck, and the head of a snake tracing his arm where his plaid wrist cuff rolled.
His eyes were a shocking shade of blue, boring a hole straight through my soul.
He stared at me like he was uncovering my deepest secrets.
He stared at me like he knew me.
My anxiety turned into a pit in the bottom of my stomach, a churning cauldron of snakes that were bound to eat me alive if I let them.
There was no way I knew him. He was the kind of man I crossed the street to avoid.
I diverted my gaze, trying to ignore the way he took the cash a student offered him, slipping him a small bag in return.
The whole time, he watched me, a dare lighting up his eyes.
A drug dealer. He was a dealer, catering to the throngs of college kids in need of a cheap and easy high. And I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
He was handsome though. Heartbreakingly so. Even though his clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed in a week.
The sense of familiarity didn’t fade; I felt like I knew him. No, Blaire, what you’re feeling is complete and utter exhaustion.
Maybe his drugs would help me sleep. Maybe they’ll give you a heart attack.
I was losing it. I shouldn’t be giving a drug dealer a second thought, let alone lingering on his endless gaze.
He wasn’t even close to my type, the suited businessmen I would let take me out for a drink—never two.
But the dark-haired street pharmacist couldn’t seem to take his eyes off me, almost as if he was trying to place me, and I couldn’t say the feeling wasn’t mutual.
I choked on my breath as I realized I was following the trail of tattoos that snaked across his arm.
He didn’t move a muscle, but I could’ve sworn his mouth hitched in a smirk when he caught me looking.
There was no way I knew him, because everything about him screamed trouble, and trouble was exactly what I’d always tried to avoid. I needed to get the hell out of here.
“Order for Blaire.”
My chest relaxed, air cycling through my lungs once more, as I all but ran for my coffee.
I snatched it out of the smiling barista’s hand, turning on my heel to sprint through the doors.
I would have to find a new coffee shop, because it was obvious the clientele in this one had declined.
A shame, really, because I really liked my little café.
The dealer’s eyes still bored into my back, a hot laser I couldn’t avoid, and I knew my decision to flee was for the best. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, back to the safe side of the street.
The logical side, where everything made sense.
Not this side, where dangerous strangers with funny smiles made me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself.
I was nearly at the door now, almost home free, ready to forget all about this strange morning—
“Ma’am! Your bagel!” the barista called after me.
Shit. No smooth getaway for me. Tucking my head to my chest, I walked back toward the counter, grabbing my breakfast with a muttered, “Thanks.”
I couldn’t stop myself from shooting the dealer one last glance, expecting his spot to be vacant, leaving me wondering if what I had seen was reality, or merely a sleep-deprived mirage.
Maybe that was what I was hoping for. Except there he stood, next to the display case filled with donuts and tarts, and as I met his heavy gaze, his tongue darted out to lick his lips.
Captivated, I mimicked him before I could stop myself, imagining what his lips would feel like beneath my own tongue.
My eyes widened as I realized the thought crossing my mind, and this time I knew I wasn’t imagining things as his lips pulled into a full smirk. He’d caught me red-handed, and he knew it.
My cheeks flushed, probably the same color as my hair. I nearly tripped rushing out the door. The fresh air barreled into me as I stopped abruptly on the sidewalk, attempting to process what had just happened.
I could remember I’d dated plenty before. Even had sex a few times. Nothing serious, just because nothing had ever seemed right.
But the feelings bubbling up through my chest inside that café were almost…primal. Something inside me called to him, which sounded completely and utterly ridiculous.
More ridiculous than a marketing executive having recurring, murderous nightmares?
Valid.
Regardless, I wasn’t going to see him again. I would make certain of it. Whatever my body thought it wanted, it was wrong.
I wanted security, not danger.
I wanted contentment, not whatever high I would be chasing with him.
No, I was better off leaving him behind, in the dark where he belonged.
Yet, as I walked away sipping at my coffee, I wondered if this was a breaking point between my two identities.
The one who was painfully honest with herself in the dark of night, and the one who was deathly afraid of what the shadows held.