Oakley #2
“That cash was everything I have. Everything I’ve made at the bar since starting there.” My broken whisper is deafening in the silence. “I was going to go to the bank in town tomorrow and open a new account.” Travis is on the old one, and I’m sure he’s already drained it.
Silence follows as I try to rein in my jumbled thoughts. Coming here was supposed to be a new start, not a continuation of the sad life I was running from.
“It might be a small town, but that doesn’t mean we have any shortage of drunks and druggies. I’ll bet it was one of them who saw the door open and decided to help themselves.”
I start to agree, but stop myself. No matter who broke in, it doesn’t change the fact that it happened, and the money's gone. How they managed to get into the safe, when I am certain it was locked up tight before I left, is another mystery.
“I left because I’d finally had enough. You know, my friend used to tell me, you’re not done until you’re done.
And she was fucking right. For months, I made excuses, thinking that there was something more that I could do to make him change, but it wasn’t a me problem.
It wasn’t my fault. I know that. But I can know that and still not know how to pick up the pieces of myself after all of it. ”
Levi reaches out and wraps his pinky around my finger in silent reassurance.
“Maybe I should have never left.”
My admittance surprises me. I don’t drag out the details, don’t rehash the litany of still bleeding scars for Levi. The things he shared today confirm my initial instinct that I can trust him.
“That’s bullshit.” His indignation teases a faint smile to my lips.
“Maybe,” I agree. “But at least I wouldn’t be spending my days worried that he could show up at any moment. Keep your enemies close, and all that.”
“Did you worry about that today? That he’d show up?”
I bite my bottom lip. “I’m not sure I’ll ever not be afraid.”
The lumpy mattress shifts as Levi turns on his side to face me. He props his head in his hand and studies my face, no sign of judgment in his features, only a quiet encouragement to continue. The unspoken promise of his complete attention has my stomach dipping and a chill dancing across my skin.
“Why do you think that is?” There’s nothing but blatant curiosity as he looks up at me, like he actually cares to know my answer.
I shrug. “When you spend so long in fight or flight, it’s hard to differentiate when you aren’t.”
“Mhmm.” He nods his agreement, and I think he wants me to talk through this. Out loud. Wants me to know what the words feel like leaving my mouth. He’s giving me the space to do that.
They feel a whole lot like excuses. They’re valid, but the weight of knowing I haven’t retrained my brain yet makes me feel like the weak girl Travis insisted I was.
I can’t do this anymore. Running a hand roughly through my hair, I sit up, leaving Levi where he lies, my back to him. I can’t see him, but I can feel the weight of his gaze heavy on my figure, the notion sending another round of shivers down my spine.
“Come stay with me.”
I whip my head around to stare at him in blatant shock. “What?”
“You heard me. Come stay with me. Just until we can find you somewhere better to stay long term.”
“I cannot impose on you like that. I’ll be okay here. I’ll buy an extra padlock and install it on the door. I’ll buy a baseball bat.”
“You’ll buy a baseball bat.” He repeats, his voice monotone, but the glimmer in his eyes and the way his mouth twitches at the corner tells me he’s trying not to laugh.
Honestly, that did sound ridiculous, but there is no way in hell I can allow myself to move in with a man that I’ve just met.
Stranger danger is still a thing! I pointedly ignore the small voice in the back of my head telling me that Levi is no more a stranger than Travis became the first time he laid his hands on me.
“Baseball bats are a great self-defense weapon,” I defend, my voice inadvertently squeaking up towards the end, making it clear that not even I am convinced of my statement.
“Right,” he deadpans before grabbing my pack from where I dropped it by the door and heading out into the night. He tosses a simple, “Let’s go,” over his shoulder, and it leaves no room for argument.
My stomach flips and twists and damn near falls right out of my asshole at the thought of what living with him might entail.
I remember our stolen moments under the waterfall—was that only a few hours ago?—and my body heats at the memory, a pink blush staining my cheeks.
“I-I can’t live with you,” I splutter, desperately grasping at the last thread of self-control that’s telling me that putting myself any closer to this man is not a good idea. But what if that part of me is lying? What if I’m so jaded from the past that I miss out on the future?
“It’s not safe here. Grab what you need for the night. We’ll come back tomorrow for the rest of your things.”
“Levi—”
He lets out a frustrated sigh before pinning me with a pointed look. My knees nearly buckle at the hardness of his features.
Fuck, why is that so hot? Given my current circumstances, this is so not the time for those kinds of thoughts.
“I can find somewhere else to stay for the night. I’ll call Jessie! I’m sure she won’t mind me crashing on her sofa for a night,” I rush out, following his retreating form towards the truck.
“And after tonight? Where will you go then?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine to come back here.”
Levi is shaking his head at me before I can finish the sentence. A spark of annoyance ignites in my chest, coupled with a glimmer of defiance that had, until recently, been long forgotten.
“It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t asking. Now, are you going to be a good girl and get in the truck, or am I gonna have to throw you over my shoulder and place you there myself?”
Holy shit.
Yup. Pretty sure my heart just took a nosedive straight from my chest to my vagina, judging by the little flutters of excitement coursing through my core at his words. My face heats, and his smirk lets me know that he notices the color deepening my complexion.
“Ugh, fine! Just— Wait. I need to grab a few things before we go.” Not waiting for his response, I rush back inside and grab the duffel bag from where I stashed it under the bed.
I spend the next few minutes unceremoniously tossing random clothes and toiletries into the bag until I’m sure I’ve grabbed all of the important items. If I’ve forgotten anything, I’ll come back tomorrow to grab it.
I don’t have much in here anyway, and it wouldn’t take me long at all to pack it all up tonight, but something stops me.
It’s the idea that if I keep some things here, then this little room that I’ve somehow managed to make my own is still mine.
Still a safe haven for me to run to if I need to feel safe again.
I ignore the part of my brain that screams at me to remember what greeted me tonight in my so-called safe haven.
Levi’s eyes follow me as I scan the room one last time, trying and failing to pinpoint anything that I could possibly need in the next sixteen hours. When I come up empty, I turn to face him.
Those eyes are still watching me, waiting with an unspoken question in them, darting back and forth between my own.
It’s as if he’s scouring every miniscule detail of my face, looking for my tells, and hoping for confirmation that I’m okay with this.
There’s a flash of apology in his eyes, in the way his lips turn down ever so slightly before returning to the neutral, curious gaze he always seems to fix me with.
Maybe he feels bad about strong-arming me into staying with him tonight.
A large part of me is sad to be leaving, but a larger part of me knows what happens when you ignore that voice of reason telling you to leave.
And while my mind is telling me to ignore the signs, ignore the potential danger—because, let’s be honest, I’m probably overreacting again—that voice of reason that I used to know so well doesn’t sound from within me this time.
My voice of reason is long gone, lost along with the memory of what true safety feels like and replaced only by the pounding of my heart telling me to retreat into myself.
Instead, the voice of reason is screaming at me from across the room, taking the shape of depthless green eyes under dark, thick brows. His voice of reason is the only one I can hear right now, and I suppose I ought to follow it.
Maybe one day I’ll be able to coax my own back from wherever it’s hiding.