Twenty-One
Winslet
I was not ever doing that again. I rubbed my face, groaning as I walked into the kitchen after nine the next morning. I didn’t remember going to bed. That wine was potent. I squinted against the sunlight pouring into the room and went directly to the Keurig. Coffee first.
Getting down a cup and putting it in place before hitting Brew, I tried to replay the night before. The familiar sound of the machine cranked up, and I headed to the living area to see what kind of a mess I had made. There had been ice cream involved, and if I had left it out, then there would be a sticky mess to clean up. My gaze brushed past the television to see it was still on, although nothing played. It was back to the Netflix screen that made you choose who was watching.
When my eyes swung over to the coffee table, I was prepared to find melted ice cream, but hoping I didn’t. My entire body stilled, and my breathing seized on the middle of an inhale. An icy-cold feeling seeped through me as I stared at the sofa and what sat on it. My throat felt much like it had when Oz held me by it and squeezed. I shivered, my body reacting to the situation and every scenario that was rushing through my head. There was not one that made sense, not one that eased the terror, laced with confusion, that had me transfixed.
How in the HELL was the sloth from yesterday in my apartment? This was how horror movies began. This scene right here would be an excellent start to one. Another quake shook my body, and I realized I hadn’t finished taking a breath. I sucked it in hard, then let it out.
Think, Winslet. You drank a lot. There was some blacked-out part where you put the ice cream away, blew out the candle, and got in bed. What else happened? Did someone stop by?
My eyes swung then, making sure there were no other glasses around. But there was just mine. The Goldfish I hadn’t bothered to put away.
“Who was here?” I whispered, trying so hard to remember something. “Think!”
I closed my eyes for a moment. Had Toby come back? Oh, please don’t let him have come here while I was blackout drunk. What would I have said to him when I was like that? Would he have known I wanted the sloth? Gone back and won it for me and wanted to check on me and give it to me?
He hadn’t seemed that observant. I was finding that unlikely, but then there was no other person there that was around when he was playing that game. Besides, I hadn’t said I liked the sloth.
I stared back at it and all its cuteness. “How did you get there? Who brought you?” I asked the inanimate object as if it were going to reply.
Had it been a pure coincidence and he had chosen the one I wanted? I mean, it was a one out of three chance. It wasn’t impossible that he’d guessed right. But that meant he had come here last night, and I had no memory of it. I wouldn’t have kissed him, would I? Alec had always said I was brutally honest when drunk. I’d told him once that I faked orgasms during sex with him because I couldn’t ever get off before he did. That had caused a rather dramatic fight when I sobered up.
If that was the case, then what in God’s name would I have told Toby? I grimaced. He’d still left me the sloth. It had to have been him. It wasn’t like someone else would stop by and bring it. No one other than Toby was at that festival who also knew where I lived and would come visit me.
That was it. Not another soul , I thought as I started to go over and get the empty wine bottle.
But there had been one other…soul there who knew where I lived and had seen us at the ring toss game.
My eyes cut back to the sloth. There was no way…I mean…was there?
I scrunched my nose and went to the sloth and picked it up. I studied it closely.
Had he even been close enough to see what game we were playing? He wouldn’t have known I liked this one even if he could.
Right?
I stood there, replaying it all in my head for any clue that it might have come from Oz, which would mean he had stopped by last night. The things I might blurt out to him while I was drunk.
Oh, please no, God. Do not let that man have come by here last night. Not with me like that.
No, it was fine. I didn’t remember everything, but I did remember what I had googled and found out about him. That man was not going to go win me a sloth and bring it to me. He was more than likely in bed with Miss America, doing all the things I fantasized him doing to me.
I shook my head. “You are a silly girl,” I said out loud. “If anyone stopped by to bring you this, it was not that man. No way.”
Now, I just hoped whatever I had said to Toby wasn’t something too terrible. Because as annoying as his relentless texting had been yesterday, this was incredibly sweet. I hoped drunk me had taken that into consideration.
I set the sloth back down. “You need to stay in here because after all that panic, I need some time with Oz Jr. in my room to feel better,” I told the stuffed sloth.
My adrenaline high I’d gone through while thinking some psycho had broken into my apartment and left me a sloth, then going through possessed doll ideas in my head, which were ridiculous and I knew it, to the only reasoning being Toby had brought it while I was blind drunk had my body all tensed up.
Me, Oz Jr., and some fantasies without the image of the woman I’d seen on his arm last night would give me the endorphins I needed to restart and have a better rest of my day.
I had cleaned out my fridge, warming up the breakfast sandwiches and wrapping them in foil, then putting them with the other food items that Toby had brought, then left to go buy groceries. On my way, I stopped on the side of the road near the bridge where I knew several homeless people lived and dropped off the Toby food, not wanting to waste it. I had taken food there more than once. If I ever had too much and couldn’t eat it all before it ruined, that was where it went. I had found that place after asking around a couple of years ago.
Alec had thrown a big party at his parents’ house, and they had it catered. When I saw all the leftover food, I asked what he was going to do with it. It wasn’t going to fit in the refrigerator. He said his mom would have the house cleaner toss it. The thought of that made the phantom hunger pains from my childhood rear their ugly head, and I went into operation save the food mode. When I started packing up the before it was thrown in the trash, her house cleaner told me about the homeless families under the bridge. When I asked his mother if I could take it all them, she thought it was a lovely idea and said she never thought of it.
Seeing them and how grateful they were for the food would have been thrown into the trash, I had made it a point to do this every chance I had. The faculty Christmas party at school last year, I had asked the principal, Mr. Clairton, if it would be okay if I took them the leftovers, and he had all faculty be involved and drive out there. I’d hoped it was eye-opening for them and they’d do that instead of tossing out food that was still good.
Once that job was complete, I did my weekly grocery shopping while still trying to remember last night’s blank spots. I could have sworn I had seen five missed texts from Toby, but today, there were none. All his texts were gone. So, I had either deleted them on accident or because I’d said something that hurt his feelings and thought deleting his texts was for the best. There had been no text or calls from him today. I was thinking that was a bad thing. I thought about texting him, but what was I going to say? Sorry I was trashed and don’t remember your visit and what I said .
I could potentially get fired if he went and told Mr. Clairton I was an alcoholic who drank so much while at home alone that I didn’t even remember him stopping by. I was just going to leave it alone. See how he acted at work and roll with it. That was all I could do. But if I could just remember what I’d said to him, it would help.
While loading my groceries into my Beetle, I tried to think of anything else because I was tired of worrying over last night. What was done was done.
“Didn’t look like you were enjoying the fair yesterday,” a deep, familiar drawl startled me.
My eyes widened, and I slowly straightened from adjusting the bags in my trunk to turn and see Oz standing only feet away. The last time we had been in a parking lot together, I’d woken up in a basement.
“If you come any closer, I will scream,” I warned him.
I didn’t care that he was a one percenter and lived the posh life; he’d abducted me once and he could do it again. Now, I knew he’d get away with it and why. His family’s wealth and power protected him.
He frowned. “You still scared of me, darlin’?” he asked as if he was surprised to hear that the woman he’d taken, starved, and choked was shaken by his presence.
“I remember the last time we were in a parking lot. Didn’t end well for me,” I pointed out.
The corner of his lips lifted. “It wasn’t all that bad. I got you out of that basement as quickly as I could. Made sure you had everything you needed. The only reason you had gone back into the cell was because you locked yourself inside. I’d made you breakfast that morning. I was gonna let you eat all the chocolate cake you wanted to that day.”
I placed a hand on my hip and looked at him pointedly. “You are leaving out the part where you grabbed my throat and held me against the fridge while squeezing so hard that I couldn’t breathe.” It was the one thing I held on to when my head started getting too obsessed with the man.
The sexy grin that stretched his lips as he stared at me through hooded eyes not only gave me butterflies, but ignited the tingling between my legs. I was a weak, shallow woman who seemed to place entirely too much importance on the appearance of a person. Because this man’s appearance could make me and my body think and do stupid things.
“I didn’t even leave a bruise. I’d have never held you that long. I knew exactly what you could take. You know, I have women who beg me to do to them what I did to you right when I’m about to make them come.”
Holy shit.
I needed to cross my legs. The things happening down there was not something I was familiar with. I swallowed, and the heat seemed to just intensify.
“You see, I think you missed me,” he said, taking a step closer to me.
I shook my head, not ready to speak just yet. I was afraid my voice would betray me and he’d know that my panties were now soaked. I needed counseling. Medication maybe.
“You sure about that, darlin’? Because when you saw me, there was a spark of excitement that had been missing all day in those pretty eyes.” He paused, and his smirk grew. “That was, until you saw Halo with me. Then, you got…jealous.” The last word rolled off his tongue like a dark taunt.
Was he making fun of me? Had I really shown my thoughts that clearly?
“I was not jealous. And that wasn’t excitement; it was fear,” I bit out.
He took another step toward me. “I don’t think so.” His words were a smooth, husky sound that again went straight to the area between my legs. “You were there with poster boy for a disappointing fuck, and then you saw me.” He stopped just before his body brushed against mine.
His eyes dropped to my chest, and I could hear my fast, heavy breathing, so I knew he could see it. I wasn’t scared. I should be, but I wasn’t. I was excited, nervous, uncertain of what he was doing. Why he was doing it. I had to stop this. I could not trust this man. That much I knew.
“Toby might be boring, but he’s safe. Does your date know she was out with a killer who has no problem abducting women and leaving them in a basement?” I asked, lifting my chin, not liking that I had to tilt my head back to look up at him.
His body was pressed against mine, and the first real panic hit me.
Was he going to shove me in my trunk and leave me to die? Did he think I would tell Miss America about his dark side and she’d leave him?
I gripped the edge of my trunk, trying to gauge if I could hold on tight enough to keep from being forced backward.
Oz tilted his head as his eyes, made to entrance anyone stupid enough to look into them, trailed over my face. Then, he lifted a hand, and I held on, afraid this was it. I didn’t want to suffocate in my trunk with perfectly good groceries in the heat. I closed my eyes tightly, focused on saving myself, when a soft brush from his finger ran down my cheekbone.
My eyes flew open wide. Was this part of it? Distracting me so I’d ease my hold and pushing me inside would be easier. He stopped at my chin, and he ran his knuckle up to my bottom lip, then back down several times as he stared at it. I wasn’t breathing. I should probably get more oxygen since it might be my last, but he was making that hard. Along with my nipples.
“I was never going to kill you,” he said with a thick, raspy tone to his voice. “I’d slit any man’s throat that hurt you.”
I sucked in a deep breath. What had he just said?
His eyes lifted from my chin to meet mine. The clear lightness in the slate-gray color of his irises shone in the sunlight. They were fascinating eyes.
“The woman I was with yesterday is my best friend’s wife. He had taken their son to change his diaper. I was staying close to her and keeping her safe while he did.”
Miss America was married and a mom?
Oz dropped his hand from my face and stepped back several steps, holding my gaze as he did so. There was a pleased gleam in his eyes, as if I had said something to put it there. He’d been the one talking. Not me. I’d been the one struggling to get proper oxygen and not squirm due to the things he was causing within my body.
A wickedness turned his lips and darkened his eyes.
“Oz Jr. has nothing on me. My tongue alone can do more than he ever could,” he said, then winked before turning and taking the few long strides to a black Hummer and climbing inside.
I blinked. His words replaying in my head now that his sexy image wasn’t commanding my every function.
“Did he say Oz Jr.?” I straightened, my eyes glued to his vehicle as he backed out of the spot.
Why would he know about my vibrator or what I called it? That was what he had been referring to, right?
My face flushed hot, and it wasn’t from the temperature outside. It had sure sounded like that was what he was talking about. I’d never told a soul about the vibrator or its nickname. That was my inside joke. I wouldn’t have told…
Oh God. no. No, no, no, no.
I covered my face with both hands. I had never told anyone about it that I could remember, and I couldn’t remember last night. The sloth. Toby hadn’t brought it to me. Oz had, and that was so ridiculously sweet, and…well, romantic. It made no sense. And what had I done, not remember it after apparently sharing that I called my vibrator Oz Jr.?
Why me? Why do I do stupid things?
I sat on the edge of my trunk, and then I realized…that had been last night. He’d come here, looking for me. He’d not gone inside the store. Had he followed me here? Maybe, but that wasn’t my actual point here.
My point was, even after I had said whatever I did last night, he had pressed against me. Touched me.
He had been hard and big, and I had felt it jerk.
I had made Oz Savelle hard.
I covered my cheeks with my hands and let out a long, shaky breath. That counselor was looking like a necessity. Who got this hot and bothered by someone who had done the things Oz had to me? Not normal people—that was who.