Chapter 13 #3
“She did,” I say sadly, wishing I hadn’t forgotten about them and left them outside.
I glance at Cullan. Just a few moments in the rain, and we’re both soaked.
He’s standing so close that I can feel the warmth of his arm next to mine.
His wet hair is falling in his eyes. His shirt is plastered to his chest. I want to touch him, but I make myself look away as Rebecca’s cruel words and Leon’s nasty expression come back to me.
He reaches for me, and then drops his hand back to his side. “Please don’t take what Rebecca said about stray kittens to heart. She was referring to my clients. Whenever I rearranged my schedule to help someone after a break-in, it would make her jealous.”
“But that’s important. You have to help people.”
“I’m glad you see it that way. My ex did not.”
It feels dangerous, him comparing me to his ex-wife. If I’m not careful, I’ll start believing I’m on the same level of importance as she was. I’m just the nanny.
In the most professional tone as I can muster, I say, “It’s no problem, Mr. Grant.”
He opens his mouth and closes it again. He gazes at me for a long time, and then says with a sad smile, “I’m back to being Mr. Grant.”
There’s a stuffed bunny lying on the counter.
I should have put it away earlier, but I forgot.
I pick it up and squeeze it in my hands, saying desperately, “I really like working for you, Mr. Grant. It’s the most secure I’ve felt in, well, ever.
Seeing Rosie happy makes me feel… Well, it’s indescribable. I’ve never known anything like it. ”
Happy. Wistful. Hopeful. I carry a sense of loss over the loving, colorful childhood that I never experienced, but also the thrill of making it happen for another little girl.
Cullan studies me closely. “You weren’t very happy growing up, were you?”
“I remember it being very gray. Lots of church and chores and no money for toys. But I shouldn’t complain. I had a roof over my head. My aunts were always there. I wasn’t in an institution or moving from foster home to foster home.”
Cullan puts a hand over mine as I grip the bunny. “You’re strangling it.”
I put the stuffed animal down.
He places his hands on my shoulders and draws me closer to him. “I remember what you said when we first met. You must make people feel safe all over Blackport .”
I remember too. Cullan had an inexplicable effect on me.
I’d never beheld a man as handsome, reassuring, and protective as him, and the words just slipped out of my mouth.
A sense of security emanates from him at all times.
It’s soothing, intoxicating, and sexy. I stare at the glimpse of the tattoo at his throat, not trusting myself to look into his eyes because I might go up on my toes and kiss him.
He draws me into his arms, folding me in his warmth and protection. I press my face into his chest and breathe in his masculine scent.
“That’s all I want for you, Elena,” he says softly into my hair. “To feel safe. You can call me whatever you want. But please stay. ”
I squeeze my eyes shut and hold him tight. I never want to let him go. “Thank you, Mr. Grant.”
My throat feels achy with unshed tears as I push the stroller in the park.
I called Cullan “Mr. Grant” as I said goodbye to him this morning, and I nearly burst into tears.
He’s still Cullan in my head. I can’t help it.
Despite my best efforts, my sweet little crush on him is in danger of tipping over into a full-blown infatuation.
I wonder what would have happened if I had looked up at him last night.
If I had kissed him.
If I had dared to hope that something wonderful could really be mine.
I push those thoughts away and put on a bright smile for Rosie as I unbuckle her from the stroller.
She holds my hand tightly while I walk her over to the play equipment and help her into a frog chair on a spring.
There’s so much delight on her face as she pushes it back and forth, holding tight to the handlebars.
I can pretend everything’s fine and that I have everything I want. I got really good at that while living with my aunts.
We spend nearly two hours at the playground, alternating between the equipment, sips of water, and rice crackers and apple pieces. After a trip down the slide, I catch Rosie in my arms, and she says, “Bottle. ”
“Thirsty? Me too,” I say, and carry her over to her stroller. I take out Rosie’s water bottle and see it’s almost empty. I could fill it up at the fountain, but there’s a convenience store next to the park, and I feel like something sweet on such a hot day.
“You want juice instead? Let’s go get some juice.” I buckle her into the stroller, and we head over, cutting toward the entrance through a parking lot.
We pass an electric blue sedan, and it reminds me of Leon’s car. I realize with a jolt when I see the number plate that it is Leon’s car.
A couple is walking away from the vehicle. The dark-haired young man has his arm casually draped around the girl’s shoulders, and they’re kissing. I recognize them both, one because his face was once almost as familiar as my own, and the other one from a lurid series of bedroom selfies.
I stop dead, gripping the stroller until my knuckles turn white.
Why did she do it? Why send me all those pictures of her in bed with Leon? Why sleep with Leon in the first place if she knew he was taken?
I suppose it was to break us up, and it looks like she got what she wanted.
The two of them look happy because consequences don’t exist in their world.
No one makes them feel like they’re a waste of space.
Sneers at them. Berates them for being a slut or for missing church.
For daring to eat a cookie at a kitchen table.
For wanting care and love instead of always being treated like a nuisance .
I look away from the couple, breathing hard. A truck must have hit an old wall, as there are bricks scattered over the concrete. I stare at them as anger and resentment build inside of me.
I wonder if the only reason Rebecca came around to the house last night and screamed at Cullan was because Leon told her a sob story about me “dumping” him via text and that once I gushed about his father.
Leon was trying to get me fired. This job is the only happiness I have, which Leon knows better than anyone.
He’s not content with having a happy, perfect existence. He’s trying to ruin mine.
Leon’s pristine, expensive car is right there, sunlight glinting on the tinted windows. The parking lot feels deserted.
I pick up a brick, feeling its weight and hardness in my hand.
How dare Leon try to destroy what little happiness I have when he’s the one who cheated on me. Humiliation and anger surge through me, and I hurl the brick at the driver’s side window.
I don’t know what I expected to happen. For the brick to bounce harmlessly away without leaving a mark?
The window turns white and explodes into a million tiny glass pieces. The shattering is loud . I stare in shock at the empty hole and the brick laying on the driver’s seat amid pieces of broken glass.
Oh, crap .
Grasping Rosie’s stroller, I turn around and walk quickly away, the back of my neck prickling madly.
As we enter a side street, I anticipate hearing angry shouts or police sirens.
For Leon to come running after me. For Angie to scream at me and throw me to the ground.
I walk faster, and we turn down another side street.
I risk taking a glance over my shoulder and see that no one’s followed us. No one’s looking at me accusingly or calling 911. I take a steadying breath. Maybe no one saw what I did.
I wipe my sweaty hands on the seat of my jeans, take a firm grip on the stroller, and walk swiftly but calmly toward home.
As my heart rate begins to slow, I picture Leon’s face as he and Angie return to his car to find that the front window has been smashed. They’ll look around for the culprit, but they won’t see anyone.
My lips twitch, and I slap my hand over my mouth, but the bubble of laughter rises up my throat and bursts from my lips anyway.
I dig my phone out of my pocket and text my friend Justine.
Elena: I just did something really stupid and crazy and so not like me. I can’t stop laughing. I think I’m hysterical.
Justine: Girl, what did you do!! Actually, don’t tell me now. Tell me over cocktails tomorrow night.
I frown at my phone, unsure what she means.
Elena: What are you talking about?
Justine: Hello?? It’s your birthday tomorrow.
My mouth falls open. I’d completely forgotten that tomorrow I turn twenty-one.