Chapter 12
Brooke
I’m pretty sure Deidre is full of shit.
We’ve been friends for a long time. If her husband had a lung issue, I would have heard about it way before now.
I still don’t blame her for not wanting me to come cootie up her mansion. This flu has been no freaking joke, and she is so busy all the time. The last thing she needs is to be out of commission.
Or on television with a crusty nose and glassy eyes.
If I had the money, or even a credit card, I’d offer to go to a hotel. But I’m still a week away from my first check, plus there aren’t many places that would let me bring Bruno along.
When Tobias returns from walking his mother to the door, I stand, rolling right into an apology, trying to head off any upset he might be feeling at his mother saddling him with me. “I’m really sorry. I can find somewhere else to go. I didn’t mean to—”
“No.” The word is sharp and a little loud. Loud enough I react automatically, pulling the stool between us, creating a barrier.
I don’t mean to do it. I’ve worked so hard to hide what I’ve become.
What I allowed someone to make me.
Tobias stops, going completely still except for the movement of his eyes as they shift between the stool and me. My heart is in my throat, and the delicious breakfast he made me is threatening to exit the premises. My whole body is shaking, and I can’t move. I’m stuck.
In so many ways.
I know Tobias would never hurt me. Not physically. But that knowledge isn’t changing anything right now, and I don’t know why.
“Slow breaths.” Tobias's voice is low and steady. Calm. “Breathe with me.” He loudly inhales, taking a cautious step in my direction as he blows the air free of his lungs.
I want to do what he’s asking. I need to stop the rapid rise and fall of my chest. I just can’t.
“It’s okay.” He reaches out, one hand coming to carefully unwind my fingers from where they're gripping the back of the stool. “Everything is going to be okay now.”
It sounds so good. That everything will just be fine again. My life can go back to what it was before Matt. Before I allowed him to slowly and systematically steal everything from me.
But I don’t think that’s possible.
Tobias manages to separate me from his furniture, then slowly wraps both arms around me, pulling me close. He doesn’t say anything else, just holds me. I don’t know for how long, and I don’t care. Because for the first time in my whole life I feel safe. Protected.
My parents never made me feel like this. Growing up, the power was regularly shut off. There was never enough food in the fridge. All my clothes were hand-me-downs from my cousins or purchased from discount stores. School fees regularly went unpaid, and there was never money in my lunch account.
Not because the money didn’t exist, they just chose to spend it on things they cared about.
Slots at the casino, visits to the salon, dinners with their friends.
My parents are, and have always been, all about the show.
Making people think they’re more than they are.
That’s why they liked Matt. He had enough money they could put on one hell of a performance.
Tobias slowly strokes up and down my back, not rushing me out of the embrace, but giving me enough room I can pull away if I want. It’s something he keeps doing. Giving me room even when we're right next to each other. Space even when I’m in his house, eating his food.
Sleeping in his bed.
And that reminder is enough to chase away the last of what I think might have been a panic attack.
Swiping at my messy hair, I step back, unable to look at the man in front of me. Not because he just saw what maybe could be classified as a meltdown. That was bad enough.
But because before that even had a chance to happen, he all but caught me masturbating in his bed.
What the hell was I thinking? I shouldn’t have done it—I know that. But I was just laying there, warm and cozy, and it smelled like him and I knew he’d been laying in that very same spot, and one thing led to another, and…
I ended up falling out of bed with my hand between my legs. Freaking mortifying.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and soak in the tub?” Tobias’s fingers continue to move, like he’s struggling not to reach for me again. “It will help you feel better.”
I highly doubt that, but it certainly won’t make me feel any worse.
And I could probably use a minute to myself. A little time to figure out how in the heck I’m going to manage living in the same house as the new and improved Tobias Bradshaw.
Without accidentally asking him to please fuck me until I forget everything.
Deep down I was really hoping I would never have to tell anybody what happened. That I could just sort of walk away from Matt and never think about him again.
It’s not seeming like that’s going to be the case, and the possibility makes me sick.
I wanted to get away from Matt, and physically, I did.
But if I allow what he did to me to continue affecting everything I do, then I didn’t really get away at all.
I’m still letting him dictate what I do. How I think. How I feel.
Who I am.
It’s bullshit.
Keeping my eyes on the floor, I nod. “Yeah. That sounds good.” Spinning away, I make a beeline for the staircase, hurrying up the steps. Reaching Tobias’s bedroom, I go straight to the bathroom, ignoring his bed as I pass.
How many other women have slept there? Women who—unlike me—probably didn’t sleep alone. Women who also know how safe it feels when Tobias holds them close.
The bathroom door slams behind me. Weird. I didn’t think I yanked on it that hard.
I shrug and start to peel away his clothes, hating myself for so many things as I run a tub full of hot water and dip beneath the surface. I sit, fully submerged, until it’s too cold to stay, then climb out feeling just as morose as I did going in.
I guess at least it didn’t get worse, right?
Wrapping the big towel I used after my shower last night around my body, I leave the bathroom, walking into a shockingly tidy bedroom. After falling out of bed at Tobias’s unexpected arrival, I’d picked all the covers up and tossed them onto the mattress, but hadn’t done more than that.
I sure as hell hadn’t made the bed, smoothing every blanket and pillow so there wasn’t a single wrinkle in sight. I also hadn’t carefully laid out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.
I didn’t even hear Tobias come in—possibly because I was literally stewing over the thought of him with other women—but he was obviously busy while I bathed. The whole room is just as pristine as it was last night when he brought me up here.
I was too tired and sick and under the influence of cold medicine to ask many questions about the space.
All I did was take a quick shower, fish around for something close to put on, and curl up under the blankets.
It wasn’t until I woke up that I put two and two together and figured out Tobias had put me in his room and not a guest room.
And now he’s encouraging me to wear more of his clothes.
I would’ve been happy to put on the ones I slept in, but they’re nowhere in sight.
He must have swiped them while he was cleaning up.
Left with no other options, I pull on the pants and T-shirt, working my hair into a quick braid since I don’t have my products or diffuser.
Steeling myself for whatever questions are coming my way, I head downstairs.
To discover an empty house.
Not totally empty, because Copper and Bruno are curled up together in one of the dog beds, but there’s no sign of Tobias anywhere. Not in the kitchen that’s just as clean as his bedroom. Not in the office at the front of the house. Not in the great room. Not even in the garage.
He’s just… Gone.
After looking around the space where he stores all his cars, I wander back into the kitchen, feeling weird about being in his house without him here. I reach the island where we’ve shared a few meals together, and my eyes snag on a piece of paper I hadn’t noticed during my first pass.
It’s plain—no lines or design of any kind—with a handwritten note at the top.
Brooke,
Went to get your things from my parents’. Be back soon. Pick a movie and hydrate.
T—
A pen sits on the counter next to the paper, and I pick it up, smirking a little as I write beneath his slanted words.
T —
It’s the twenty-first century. You could have texted me.
Brooklyn Marie
For some reason it strikes me as amusing that he went to all the trouble of leaving me a note. Amusing and endearing. He doesn’t owe me anything, but still wanted to make sure I knew where he was.
So I guess the least I can do is hydrate and pick a movie.
Pulling a bottle of lemon–lime electrolyte drink free of its plastic binding in the fridge, I twist the orange lid free as I walk to the great room. I spent most of my time here yesterday asleep—and the space was dark when I was here for dinner—so I’ve never gotten a great look at the room itself.
It’s a large space with soaring ceilings covered in planks of warm wood. Windows line the back wall, looking out over the distant mountains. A large stone fireplace takes up another entire wall, with a television that’s probably as wide as I am tall mounted above the mantle.
Plopping down on the large, overstuffed sectional Tobias made up as my sickbed, I pick up the remote and turn on the television. It’s set to a music station, and I can’t quite figure out how to get anywhere else.
Copper and Bruno both pop their heads up, attention snapping my way. A second later they’re jumping out of the cozy little dog bed they’ve occupied all morning, and racing my way. Copper leaps right onto the cushion next to me, flopping down dramatically.
Bruno isn’t big enough to accomplish the same feat, but he still gives it his best attempt, managing to clothesline himself on the edge of the seat.
“Oh no.” I scoop him up and pepper his furry face with kisses. “Are you okay?”
“Not bad.” Tobias’s voice makes me jump, pulling Bruno close as adrenaline drops into my veins.
At some point he’s going to notice how on edge I am. The way any unexpected sound or movement results in a response I can’t seem to get under control.
And at some point, I’m going to have to tell him why. He’ll look at me differently after that. He should. I look at me differently too.
But if Tobias notices my unnatural reaction to his sudden appearance, he doesn’t show it. He just nods toward the television, giving me a grin. “Having a hard time working that thing?”
My relief at having a little more time before everything changes has all the air rushing from my lungs on a weird laugh.
“Obviously.” I drop the remote to the sofa beside me.
“I was about to start pushing random buttons, so I guess you got here just in time. Otherwise I would have had everything all screwed up and it would’ve taken you hours to fix it. ”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s just a TV.” He says it simply. Easily. Casually. As if it’s impossible anyone would consider me royally screwing up his entertainment system a big deal.
But I can say with absolute certainty, someone would.
They would act like it was the end of the world and I was the biggest freaking idiot on the planet.
They would yell. They would scream. They would belittle.
They would shrink me just a tiny bit more.
Add another crack in the shape of who I am so it would be easier to mold me into who they expect me to be.
Tobias sits on the couch next to me, his movements calm but controlled as he picks up the remote and patiently explains how I get to all the different streaming apps. He’s just finished explaining how to activate the cable box, when his phone starts to ring.
Passing me the remote with directions to pick something to watch, he stands, digging his cell from a pocket as he walks toward the hallway leading to the garage.
He doesn’t make it all the way there. After taking only a few paces, Tobias stops, his shoulders going tight as his spine snaps straight. “What?”
Again, I startle. Not visibly, but my insides still react. Not in surprise this time, but at the sharp tone of his voice. The sudden tenseness in his frame.
When Tobias spins to face me, his expression is hard, and it affects me in a visceral way.
Almost immediately his features smooth out, shoulders dropping, hand unclenching where it was balled into a fist. He's listening to whoever’s on the other end of the phone, but not saying anything back.
After what feels like forever, he finally responds, tone chilly. “I’ll be there in five minutes.” He disconnects the call, watching me for a second before scrubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t want to have to tell you this.”
I swallow hard, bracing as much as I can. “What is it?”
His eyes lift to the ceiling, head barely shaking as his jaw clenches. “Your parents are at the big house.”
I knew this was coming. It was only a matter of time before they narrowed down my location. There are honestly only so many places I could’ve gone. It says a lot about them that it took this long to find me. Shows how little they actually know about what my life has become.
Or maybe they know, and just don’t care.
“I’m going to go talk to them.” Tobias shocks me with his statement.
“What?” I stand, remote dropping to the floor. “Why?”
Tobias shifts on his feet, bringing one hand up to drag his fingers through his hair.
“I don’t know exactly what brought you here, Brooke.
” He holds up a hand when I start to speak.
“You don’t have to tell me. Not ever. Not unless you want to.
” He swings his hand toward his parents’ house, pointing that direction.
“But I think we can both agree they’re not here with your best interests in mind.
” He shakes his head. “And I’ll be damned if I let them make you feel like you’ve done something wrong by coming here. ”
My throat goes tight. Again. I’ve gone years without crying, and now it’s like my body needs to catch up for lost time.
I’m not letting it. Even though this is the first time anyone has ever stepped in to protect me.
And as much as I want to let Tobias do that, I can’t. I have to face them. Not standing up for myself is what got me here.
Pulling in a deep breath, I square my shoulders. “I’m going.”
Tobias doesn’t look thrilled with my declaration, but instead of trying to tell me what to do—like so many other people have—he jerks his chin in an unhappy nod. “Fine.” He reaches one hand toward me. “But you’re not going alone.”