Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Theo
I need to force myself to leave July’s apartment.
That’s my last rational thought before hell finds me.
Everything is so soft. She’s so soft. So perfect and trusting in her sleep, her hand curled against my chest, as if we’ve slept like this a thousand times before. But my heart begins to pound wildly around three thirty in the morning and that’s when I get confused.
Am I asleep or awake?
My mouth begins to taste like dust, my eyes become crusted with grit.
Every time I let my guard down, I hear the spray of machine gun fire.
That must mean I’m awake, right? I feel the heat of the sun. It can’t be a dream.
Why is July in the prison with me? How did she get here?
I shield her in my embrace, protectively, scanning the room to find out which direction the threat is coming from. The shrapnel buried in my back begins to heat, cool, heat and…I need to get her down on the floor. We’re too exposed here on the bed.
Looking down at my torso, I realize I’m covered in sweat, my chest puffing up and down. I’m going to get my sweat all over July. The gunfire has stopped for now and she looks so sweet, so serene.
Oh Jesus, what if she’s already dead?
Was she hit by a stray bullet and I didn’t even realize it?
Wheezing, I snatch up her wrist and feel for a pulse, a deluge of relief coursing through me when I feel the beat. She’s alive. She’s alive. But for how long—
“Theo,” she murmurs, lacing her fingers with mine and yawning without opening her eyes. “Is it time to get up?”
No. It’s time to get down on the floor.
My vocal cords ache from restraining the shout.
But something new happens. As soon as I hear her husky voice, the prison wavers around us and I’m now in her bedroom. In Chicago. Baby blue sheets are pulled up around my waist, the glow of a streetlight percolating through the slats of her blinds. It’s silent, except for the whoosh of traffic and my shallow breathing.
“No, baby. It’s still nighttime,” I say, kissing her temple, feeling…broken. Like a broken toy that has been put back on the shelf and sold to an unsuspecting customer who has no idea of the defects. I have to get out of here. Next time I fall asleep, I could wake up fully entrenched in the memories and do something to hurt her, like tackling her down to save her life from nothing. There’s nothing here. No threats. Why can’t my brain believe it?
Having to get up and leave her when she is pure paradise…it’s hell.
My chest is yawning open as I look down at July, while pulling on my shirt. I reach down and trace the smooth line of her bare outer thigh, all the way to her hip, swallowing a wrench when she shivers from the cold. Because I’m no longer holding her?
I make a miserable sound in the quiet bedroom, pacing for long moments.
This is where I want to be, but I haven’t stopped to ask myself if I’m good for her.
In the unforgiving darkness of the night, I examine how I got here. Through the lens of a sane human being. I stalked and followed her. Just hours ago, I had to physically restrain myself from taking her virginity on the couch, even though she wasn’t ready. Now, I’m ebbing and flowing in and out of a PTSD nightmare. If she hadn’t snapped me out of it, I might have barricaded us in the bathroom and terrified the shit out of her.
I continue pacing, punching myself in the head once, twice.
I’m so fucked up.
There’s no way in hell I can leave July alone, but shouldn’t I save her from the worst of me? The nighttime me who can’t sleep without being attacked by demons? If I physically hurt this fragile girl, I’d never forgive myself. And God, I don’t want her to see me in the throes of some mental war.
Go.
You don’t belong here.
Go.
I reach for her softness one more time, but don’t allow my fingertips the satisfaction of touching her, curling my fist into a ball until it’s shaking. Taking a heavy gulp of her scent, I leave the bedroom, the air conditioning drying the sweat on my skin. I scrawl out a note and leave it on the small kitchen table, barely aware of what I’m writing, I’m so focused on removing myself from her peace, before I shatter it.
* * *
July
Theo is gone when I wake up.
Before I even sit up in bed, I’m hit by a sense of betrayal.
It’s probably an extreme reaction on my part. He had every right to leave, right? This is probably standard protocol and I’m just not aware of the ins and outs. Man goes home with woman. They have a mutually satisfying experience and then it’s over. No need for breakfast or cuddling or coming up with a plan to spend time together again. Maybe he doesn’t want that. Maybe he wasn’t satisfied.
I feel hollow as I settle my feet on the bedroom floor and cross to the closet, unhooking my robe from the knob and putting it on. Padding out to the kitchen, I catch his aftershave and metal scent lingering in the air, heat pushing in behind my eyes.
There’s a note on the table.
It simply says I’m sorry.
Sorry about what? The fact that this thing between us isn’t going to work out?
My legs turn to soup, and I drop into one of my kitchen chairs, looking back at the couch over my shoulder. Seeing us there. Me on my back with my legs open, him licking and snarling me to an orgasm. Only the second one I’d ever experienced. He’d given me my first one minutes before, without even touching me. Just by being so beautifully raw.
Did I…overestimate the importance of us?
Was this a normal encounter between consenting adults and we’ve already reached the conclusion?
The note drifts down from my numb fingers to the floor and I stand, wobbling a moment and swiping at my damp eyes, before sailing to the bathroom and shutting myself inside. Taking the hottest shower I can stand and trying to do the impossible.
Not think about him.
Not think about his breath on my neck, how possessively he touched my hips.
Lock me up. As long as you’re locked in with me.
Words he said to me on the train.
Was I na?ve to believe any of this was real?
I’ve never felt more vulnerable and lonelier as I do when getting dressed for work. I’m distracted, so I don’t pay close attention to what I’m wearing, only becoming aware of the flaws of my decisions when I reach the office.
“Wow,” says Dierdre when I pass by her desk on the way to mine. “Leave it to July to save her best outfit for the day after her blind date.”
Confused, I look down at my white mini skirt, a black silk blouse tucked into the waistband. Technically, I’m not dressed inappropriately for the workplace, but it’s right there on the borderline. My pointed flats are saving me from going full office vixen and getting a phone call from human resources. “Oh, um…” I push up my glasses. “I slept too late and got dressed in the dark this morning. That’ll teach me to rush.”
She purses her lips at me. “That’s not like you. Being out of your routine and all.”
“No?” I turn on a heel, shrugging on my way to the other side of the office. “Maybe I’m turning over a new, irresponsible leaf.”
Dierdre snorts in my wake. “So it would appear, after sitting down at the wrong table yesterday. And continuing the date, regardless!”
I keep walking, the hollow feeling settling back into my middle. I resolve to focus on work for the next eight hours, because hello, I have a huge presentation on Friday and it’s happening whether or not my heart feels broken. So yes, I dive in, outlining concepts and doing market research while the office buzzes around me, skipping lunch, like I usually do. It’s not until four o’clock rolls around that I realize I’ve been staring at my screen for seven straight hours. At least I have a lot of work done to show for it.
Not that any amount of work is going to help me with my public speaking.
Theo was going to do that.
“Earth to July,” Dierdre says, waving a hand in front of my face. “Are you with me? I asked if you want to kick off early for happy hour? Vikander is buying.”
“Vikander? As in, our boss? She is letting us leave early to go drinking?”
“I think she’s having a shit week,” Dierdre whispers. “Maybe she wants to drown her sorrows. Or she’s taking us all down with her. At least we’ll be drunk!”
I eye the door to my boss’s office skeptically. “I think I’ll stay here.”
“Come on,” Dierdre whines, shaking my chair. “For once, you’re not dressed like a Sunday school teacher. Take advantage of the dirty librarian look.”
“Dirty librarian,” I snort. Except she’s kind of right. How did I leave my apartment with this much leg showing? “All the more reason to go home,” I mutter, tugging down the hem. That being said, I’m not sure I want to go home. That stupid note is still on my floor. Theo’s scent is everywhere, as are the memories of our single night together. I’m going to go home and dwell, aren’t I?
“What’s wrong?” asks Dierdre, frowning.
“Nothing.”
“Something is definitely up with you—” She breaks off on a gasp. “I mean, you’re always a little awkward, but you’ve been acting extra weird since your accidental date yesterday.”
“Have I?” I ask breezily, but I don’t quite pull off the casual act because my throat hurts simply from talking about Theo. It’s pathetic how quickly I got attached. Maybe I should just talk to Dierdre about the whole situation. She has more experience with men than I do. She could have some valuable insight. I don’t have a lot of friends to call about this kind of thing. “He…found me after all. We connected on the train.”
My co-worker does a double take. “What do you mean, he found you?”
“He just…did. I think he asked Kevin for my information.”
“And Kevin just gave it to him?” She stares at me stunned for a few seconds, then takes her phone out, tapping the screen a handful of times, before holding it up to her ear. “Kevin? It’s Dierdre. Did you…”
I can’t make out what Kevin is saying on the other end of the line, but he’s talking a blue streak. When Dierdre’s eyes start to widen, there’s a sinking feeling in my stomach.
“What?” I mouth at her.
She shakes her head slowly. “Kevin, I’m so sorry. I…why didn’t you call me? Have you told the police?”
My eyes shoot wide. Police?
“You’re too afraid of this guy to call the police? That’s what you’re telling me?” She rakes a hand through her hair. “Kevin, he put you in the hospital!”
All at once, everything clicks into place. I know she’s talking about Theo. Theo got my information from Kevin. And apparently caused him bodily harm to get it.
The boom of my pulse drowns out the rest of the conversation. I’m in a daze. Dierdre is talking to me, but all I can think about is my own shortsighted behavior. I let this violent man into my home. He admitted to struggling with the need to take me on the couch, before I’d given him the green light. And yet, I slept beside him so soundly. Better than I’ve slept in years. Even now, I miss him.
Is there something wrong with me?
“Come on,” Dierdre says, shouldering my purse and steering me toward the elevator. “We’re going to get a drink. This is some happy hour shit right here.”
“Is Kevin…okay?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“A broken eye socket and two missing teeth later, yeah, he’s fine,” Dierdre says dryly. “He’s adamant about not involving the police, but dude, this commando guy has all your information, July. And he’s obviously dangerous. We need to call someone.”
I know she’s right, so why am I shaking my head?
Dierdre starts. “ No? What am I missing?”
He won’t hurt me. He just hasn’t adjusted to civilian life yet.
I can’t even say it out loud, because I’ll sound like such a cliché. How can I explain having this crucial certainty about a man I’ve only known for one day?
Then again, I thought I was special to him and he left.
I could be completely wrong about his character, too.
“Let me think about it,” I manage, wetting my dry lips. “I know it’s concerning.”
“Good,” Dierdre huffs, hooking her arm through mine and leading me into the building’s lobby. It’s not as full as usual, since we’re leaving an hour early from work, so I can actually hear our footsteps echoing off the marble walls. “Vikander and the rest of the crew are already at happy hour. Just a block from here.”
“Don’t tell them anything about this, okay?”
“Ah, come on. For once, you’re interesting!”
“Come up with something else,” I say, wanting more than ever to go home and lick my wounds. My heart isn’t into happy hour, and fifteen minutes later, I can only stand there holding a sweating vodka and tonic, sipping steadily and without really thinking, conversation whipping at a breakneck pace around me, leaving me totally disconnected, as always. It’s worse than usual this time, though, because I’ve so recently vocalized to Theo this feeling of being on the outside looking in. Pretending to enjoy myself for no reason, except to briefly belong. But the more I try to belong to other people, the less I belong to myself.
I didn’t feel that way with him.
Suddenly, there’s a niggle of electricity on back of my neck.
Before I even turn around, I know he’s there.
Theo.
Standing right outside the bar, looking in at me through the glass, his face a mask of intensity, the evening wind whipping his hair in ninety directions.
God help me, my first reaction is decimating relief. If he’s here, he cares about me. He didn’t leave my apartment last night with no intention of ever seeing me again. Right?
Following closely on the heels of relief is irritation. Not the minor kind of annoyance I feel about a work setback or the fries not being delivered with my takeout order. This is a hot, stormy kind that I’ve never experienced before. I’m mad…and there’s also a mean, little twist beneath my navel. A chaotic fluttering in the vicinity of my collarbone. It causes me to turn my back on him abruptly and sip my drink, my pulse flying into a rapid march. Because I anticipate a response from him. I don’t know what it’s going to be, which is new for me. Life is usually so predictable. Not like this.
Not mysterious.
Not erratic, the way it has been for the last forty-eight hours.
I don’t know if I like it or if I’m scared or excited.
I only know that when I feel heat on my back and all my co-workers turn to stare at me, I know Theo is standing behind me. My hand trembles around my drink, my tummy muscles tensing.
“Is that him?” Dierdre says out of the corner of her mouth. “Because, whoa. Fine. I get the impulse to make poor decisions, but still—”
“July,” Theo says, right beside my ear, his hand settling on my waist with a definite grip of possession. Every single one of my male co-corkers takes a giant step back, making me wonder about the expression on Theo’s face. “I waited outside your office, but you never came out. If I hadn’t seen you through the window—”
“I decided to do happy hour,” I interrupt abruptly.
A prolonged pause. “I see that. In a tight little skirt, no less.” His thumbs delve beneath the waistband, slipping side to side, before digging in slightly, my sex contracting in response, my knees turning inward to combat the spreading ache. “Can I talk to you privately?”
Gathering my courage, I turn to face him, sucking in a breath when I see the level ten violence he’s directing at the men behind me. “If you wanted to talk, you could have stayed this morning and had ample opportunity.”
That brings his gaze swinging sharply in my direction, eyes narrowing. “You’re…upset with me.”
I’m not a rock-the-boat type of lady. I’m a people pleaser. My first inclination is to minimize my feelings and be accommodating. I don’t want to be the girl who gets bent out of shape after one night, demanding to know our relationship status. Because I’ve been told all my life that to do so is crazy and unattractive and hysterical. But I don’t want to be a pushover, either. That’s bad too, right? Why is being a woman such a pain in the ass? “I don’t know,” I whisper, refusing to look at him.
“You are,” Theo says, scrutinizing me so closely, I can feel his breath on my eyelids. “You’re mad at me for leaving.” He takes hold of my upper arms now, pulling me in close. “Come with me so I can explain.”
“Classic abuser,” Dierdre says to my right, gesturing with her wine glass. “Isolating you. Cla-ssic.”
Theo flicks a dark look in her direction, and I watch his reaction to Dierdre’s willowy blonde good looks with interest, but he’s only interested in focusing back on me as soon as possible. “Who is this person?”
“I’m Dierdre. I’m the one who set her up with Kevin .” She drags out the last two words, then lowers her volume. “You remember Kevin, right? Or have you put multiple men in the hospital since yesterday? I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Dierdre,” I sigh, my face burning hot.
“I remember Kevin,” Theo says, stiff lipped. “But not because I put him in the hospital. More because he was going on a date with a woman who doesn’t belong to him.”
“Who does she belong to?” I whisper, lifting my chin.
His forehead falls to mine, pressing there, his breath coming hard and fast against my mouth. “ Me. ” A beat of charged silence allows that statement to sink in—and it does. It sinks in so deep, I’m suddenly a human ocean with unplumbed depths. But not for long. He’s discovering parts of me that I didn’t know existed. “Come talk to me somewhere. Alone,” he says, voice husky, his gaze rife with meaning. Hunger. “July, I need you.”
Ignoring Dierdre’s growing concern, I discard my drink and take Theo’s hand, letting him steal me from the bar, heart thundering in my ears.
I’m not quite ready to let him off the hook for disappearing…
But there’s no sense in pretending I don’t need him, too.