7. Chapter 7 #2
Waiting for Elias, I note several vehicles still parked despite evening approaching—it’s four thirty-five, with many clinics having closed already.
I don’t usually have my appointments this late, it makes my Uber rides more expensive, but it was the only one available.
My last one was cancelled because I didn’t show up; in my defense, I was studying for an exam.
Once I remembered, it was too late and I had to reschedule.
Speaking of, I need to put my next appointment on my calendar or I’ll miss that one, too. Though he’s never mentioned hunting me down, I wouldn’t put it past Mr. Kensington to send the police for a welfare check if I miss my next session.
It only takes me a few seconds to get the information saved and set on repeat—color-coded, and timed. I’ve learned that if I’m missing certain details, then I forget about my obligations all together.
“Like the outfit today, Sunshine. Were you aiming for homeless and cute, or finally ran out of clean clothes in your disorganized closet?”
Masking my smirk, his voice sends the crawling itch of beetles deep in my belly—where normal girls feel butterflies, I have insects seeking dead flesh.
Spinning, I face him. He’s so fucking close I’m forced to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
Truthfully, I’m surprised Kate didn’t sense him and send me into a tizzy; she must like him today, can’t say the same about tomorrow.
Towering over me, he has on a lightweight jacket—black with plenty of pockets on the front.
A dark gray Henley hides his chest, the tail hanging a few inches past the waistband of his dark wash denim pants.
Practical, easy to put together and nothing to fuss over, but still attractive.
Then there’s his salt-and-pepper hair, green eyes, and thick rimmed glasses I noticed the other night.
I’ve noticed him, you know what I mean?
A very different light casts over Elias, creating shadows in places I’ve not dared to glance at until recently. Areas he’s pinned me to, made me writhe and wiggle against, leaving me a scalding wet mess with nothing and no one to soothe me.
He flipped switches in my head the other night.
Ones I’ve searched for since the day my thoughts were invaded.
Whatever he did, the way he held me, commanded my mouth with his, silenced the noise.
No anger, no voices or thrashing—I’ve even lost all desire to sink a screwdriver into his gut for having his hands on me.
For the first time since he held me after I sliced my arms wide open in Canada, I felt… good.
Now that he’s here, I want it again and have no idea how to feed the budding addiction. All I know is Kate will hurt him. Therefore, my fight is now with her—not just the world.
“It’s called grunge, you dinosaur.”
“Whatever it is, it looks like you pulled these out of the garbage.”
Elias hooks one of his rough fingers through a frayed hole in my denim shorts, and tugs me closer.
Instinctively I resist, yet he doesn’t relent.
Instead, his eyes meet mine, silently scolding me.
Embarrassment loses the race to lust when heat flares in my cheeks, my lips part, and feet move on their own volition.
My platform combat boots make the slightest thud once I’m in range.
The fishnets I’m wearing beneath crisscross up and down both legs and do nothing to stave off the chilly air.
Never mind the shorts threatening to rip across the curve of my ass or my oversized hoodie hiding a crop top band shirt underneath.
Swiftly, my tongue swipes over my bottom lip, tasting the ghost of him.
“Don’t wear these outside anymore. Fishnets can stay. If you’re going to show off your legs, wear shorts that have a shelf life longer than twenty-four hours. These look like they’re about to turn into dust.”
What? Did he…
“Surely you’re not telling me what to wear. Now I have to clean out every Goodwill from here to New York.”
The digit he once had hooked in the hole of my shorts now dings under my chin and forces my attention.
“Go ahead. I have a buddy on the bomb squad who owes me a favor. Reducing each of them to rubble sounds like a regular Tuesday. Besides, a skirt would be better, so I can feel how wet you are instead of just smelling it.”
Red hot mortification holds my words hostage, stored in a cage somewhere between my throat and hell.
Did he—no, he didn’t. Yes he did, he just said he could smell me.
Am I? Wet? No, I’m not. I just came out of therapy and nowhere near aroused, definitely not here. Does that mean he could at the event?
Oh.
My.
God.
In shock, I shove him away and retreat several steps. Confusion settles over his features, making his fuller brows pinch together then relax as a grin spreads across his face, stretching the stubble at the corners of a mouth I shouldn’t want.
“You alright, Sunshine?”
“Do… do NOT talk to me.”
Nervous and embarrassed to high heaven, my hands tremble as they lift my hood and drape it over my crown. I cram my long hair into the hood to conceal it, preparing to shove my head into sand and forget this conversation actually happened.
“Truck’s around the corner. Let me take you home.”
“What did I just say about talking!” Yanking the strings of my hood, it cinches over my face, hiding me away.
This motherfucker has the audacity to laugh at me.
First, he brought up… good God, I don’t want to repeat it, but now he’s laughing.
That’s it; I’m no longer happy with him, he’s going on my shit list—all three top rankings.
I’m getting on the Internet and looking for every black magic curse I can find: chicken pox, intestines coming out of both ends, his eyeballs exploding, allergic to oxygen—whatever it takes.
“Come on, Sunshine,” he rumbles close to my left ear, taking my elbow into his hand and leading the way. Not once does he tell me to lower my hood—if he does, I’ll headbutt him.
“Sorry for embarrassing you.”
I’m not replying, it’s a trap. He’s trying to draw me out to gloat at how red my face is, and to mortify me more. I may not have had anyone to play with growing up, but if I can’t see him then he can’t see me—this I know!
There’s a honk, followed by a low growl as an engine starts.
It’s not loud enough to be a muscle car, nor fast like imports, nor does it have that V6 eco purr newer trucks do.
I feel like I’m about to climb into a van that has ‘free candy’ sprayed on the side and with someone who’s bound to make me disappear.
An older, military trained, salt-and-pepper haired kidnapper with teeth all the better to eat me with.
Fucking hell.