Chapter 11 KATIE #2
Running into the bathroom, I quickly splash some cold water on my face, blow my nose, and reach for the bottle of clear eye drops on the bathroom counter.
As I squeeze a few drops into each eye, I don’t have time to cover my blotchy skin with makeup, I’m hoping I can pass for someone just home from the gym.
“One second!”
I swear to Christ that if this is Enda, my postman, I’m going to kick his arse.
Then I realise it’s Sunday. No post. Not Enda.
I pull the front door open and nearly puke all over his freshly pressed jeans. “Aiden?”
Double shit!
I didn’t even hit send on the text.
“What are you doing here?” We were supposed to meet at the cafe. Why is he at my house?
There is a dangerous glimmer in his eyes as he takes my measure. “What’s wrong?”
“Migraine,” I manage to mutter, trying to hide my confusion. “I was going to—”
“Cancel?” He steps inside, uninvited—not a vampire then. He’s got a massive box in his hands and sets it down on the couch.
“What’s that?” I ask, my voice trembling.
He’s already removing his jacket, revealing a black t-shirt that fits tightly against his muscular frame.
“I figured I’d give your rats something other than my face to shit on,” he replies with a smirk.
His eyes homing in on the guinea pig cage in the corner of the room.
Hunkering down beside the cage, his eyes lock on my black and white cavy. “Oreo, I presume?”
I nod, still unsure of how to react to his unexpected presence.
“And this one,” he points to my orange cavy. “Cinnamon?”
“Ginger.” I can’t help but grin at his accurate guess. Risking a peek inside the box, I see everything from washable cage liners to a variety of toys and treats. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”
“I know,” he says, getting to his full height and turning to me. “What’s wrong, Katie?”
“I told you it’s a—”
“No. It’s not,” he interrupts, his voice firm yet gentle. “I can see it in your eyes. Something’s wrong.”
I shrug and turn my back on him, feeling a round of tears trying to fight their way to the surface. “I’m just not feeling too well. I think I might be coming down with something.”
“Good thing I’ve got a strong immune system,” he says with a small smile. “Go on then,” he tilts his head towards the stairs.
“What?”
“Might as well get comfortable since we’re not going out for coffee.”
Why do I get the feeling that he has no intentions of leaving?
“I don’t want you to get sick.”
“I won’t,” He’s already unpacking the box. I watch as he sets up a cosy spot on the couch, pulling the blanket from the back and arranging the pillows. “Tea or coffee?”
The fuck?
He strides past me, heading straight for the kitchen like he owns the place.
How the hell does he know where everything is?
I stand there, bewildered, as he effortlessly navigates through the kitchen, grabbing mugs and rummaging through the cabinets. It’s as if he’s been here a hundred times before.
I’m so confused as to what the hell is going on that I don’t notice him coming with a glass of Lucozade (I don’t remember having any in the house) and forcing it into my hands.
“Sugar for shock.”
“Thanks.” The word comes out in a whisper as I take the glass, still trying to process the situation. I drain the contents in one gulp, and then Aiden takes the empty glass from me and places it in the dishwasher.
“Go on now,” he turns, nodding again at the stairs.
“I really don’t need to—Aiden!” Never have I ever been so manhandled by someone before. Aiden’s strength surprises me; he effortlessly throws me over his shoulder and carries me up the stairs. I hold onto him for dear life, afraid of falling from his shoulder.
How the hell does he know which room is mine?
I’m tossed onto the bed like a sack of spuds, and in the next heartbeat, he’s already rummaging through my wardrobe.
“Do you mind?” I shout, trying to regain some control over the situation.
“Not at all.” He doesn’t even have the decency to look at me when he says it.
It takes him a minute to locate my pyjamas, and he tosses them at me without a second thought.
He then spins for the chest of drawers and starts rummaging through them.
A pair of fluffy socks are soon tossed over his shoulder, hitting me squarely in the face.
“Are you fucking—”
“What is this?” he purrs, holding up some lacy lingerie that I had forgotten I even owned. I blush, feeling a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “Put that down!” I demand, snatching the lingerie from his hand. He smirks, picking up the matching G-string and dangling it from his index finger.
I snatch it from him, my face turning even redder. “What? You’ve never seen women’s underwear before?”
“I’ve never seen your underwear before,” he turns, stuffing his hands into his pockets, adding, “at least, not in the light.”
“You can thank your lucky stars for that.” Stuffing my lingerie back into the drawer, I slam it shut and end up turning into the brick wall that is Aiden’s chest.
His smile has turned into a scowl. “Why do you talk about yourself like that?”
“Like what?” I try to push past him, but he blocks my way, his scowl deepening.
“Like you’re worthless” it comes out like a hiss. He tries to reach for me, but I recoil, stepping back instinctively. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He moves forward, and I move back, trapping myself between the wall and Aiden’s advancing figure. His palm feels warm and solid against my cheek as he forces me to look into his eyes. “Who was it?”
“Who was what?”
His eyes darken to a stormy grey. “Whoever made you feel that you were beneath them needs to be hung by their scrotum and set on fire.” His fingers squeeze my jaw—a restrictive move, not painful. “I don’t ever want to hear you talking about yourself like that again, Katie.”
“I can’t help it,” I admit, and I feel the overwhelming shame wash over me when the tears trickle down my cheeks.
His eyes follow the trail of my tears, his expression softening. His thumbs gently wipe away the droplets from my cheeks. “If you only saw what I see,” his forehead rests against mine, “you would never doubt your worth again.”
It takes everything in me not to fall to pieces.
Abuse, I can take.
But Aiden’s words all but floor me.
He pulls back a fraction. “That’s something we’ll have to work on.” His lips brush my forehead as he speaks. “Now, get comfortable and meet me downstairs when you’re ready,” he says, giving me a reassuring smile before leaving the room.
What the hell just happened?
It takes me a few minutes to get changed and pretend I didn’t turn into a sobbing mess in front of a man I barely know. I wouldn’t be surprised if I never heard from him again. I’m shocked he’s still here and didn’t run out of the house as soon as he saw my breakdown.
He’s not in the sitting room or the kitchen when I come down; instead, I find him in the extension, browsing my bookshelves.
“You have a lot of porn on these shelves,” he jokes, causing me to laugh despite feeling like a pile of dog shit.
“I could say the same about your phone,” I counter with a smirk. “It’s not all smut, look,” I point to the Lord of the Rings, The Witcher, and Harry Potter books on the shelf.
“Ah, yes, but look at this,” he gestures towards my Sarah J. Mass shelves. “That is essentially monster porn,” he says, making a point of tipping A Court of Silver Flames off the shelf and flipping through it.
“I’m not even sorry about that, batboys for the win!”
Aiden slams the book with a chuckle and puts it back on the shelf. He then crouches down, pulling me with him to the floor. “You seem to have a thing for serial killers as well,” he mumbles, pointing to my collection of true crime novels.
“I find them fascinating. The darker the story, the better. It’s like peeking into the twisted minds of those who walk among us.”
His head bobs up and down as he scans the titles, his eyes lingering on each spine. “You’re just full of surprises,” he says with a smirk. “I never would have guessed you had such a morbid interest. It’s refreshing to meet someone who appreciates the macabre like I do.”
I’m not sure what motivates me to ask; I’m either too exhausted to maintain “appropriate conversation” or still dazed from my breakdown. “Did you shoot that garda?”
He freezes, his head snapping in my direction. “I did,” he nods. “Rubber bullets, Katie; I didn’t shoot to kill.”
“Why did you do it?”
He pauses briefly before answering. “The man partly responsible for éabha’s imprisonment was a dirty garda.
” He bites his lip, wondering if he should continue.
“There was an elaborate set-up to catch him, and, like rats that are trapped, he panicked and drew a gun. Nick’s wife was pregnant at the time; Joe had his gun on the dirty garda, and I wasn’t perceived as a threat to him. ”
“Why not?”
“Because he thought I was the man that I’m rumoured to be.
” Aiden pushes himself to his full height and then offers me his hand.
“I had a feeling I’d need to bail Joe and Nick out of a sticky situation, so I loaded my gun with rubber bullets, and when the rat started getting an itchy trigger finger, I shot Nick. ”
“You saved his life,” Light bulb. “That’s why the charges were dropped.”
“Exactly.” He offers me a wolfish grin and walks with me to the sitting room, only to stop dead and say, “I think your guinea pig is having a seizure.”
I look into the cage and laugh. “He’s popcorning.”
“He’s what now?”
“He’s popcorning,” I repeat, chuckling at the sight of Oreo excitedly hopping around in its cage. “It means he’s happy and excited.”
Aiden gives the cage another sideways glance before he heads to the couch, pressing his back against the pillows. I take a seat on the opposite side and earn a glare.
“What?”
He reaches over and grabs my legs, dragging me down beside him. He tugs the blanket over me and wraps his arm around my shoulders. Two cups of tea sit on the coffee table in front of us, steam slowly rising from the cups.
He turns on Netflix and starts scrolling through the different options.
“What are we watching?” His arm tightens around me, and I’m pulled onto his lap.
All of my anxieties flare up as I feel the weight of his body against mine. I shift, so only half of my weight is resting on him. “A horror?” I try to move in a way that doesn’t look obvious. “Something gory.”
“A woman after my own heart,” he chuckles, giving me a playful squeeze and readjusting me on his lap so more of my weight presses against him.
Oh my God, I can’t. What the hell is he playing at? I’m not light! I’m five-nine and just shy of thirteen stone. There is some chonk in this booty that I’m usually ok with, but this fucker doesn’t so much as have a ripple of fat on him. It’s like sitting on solid rock.
“Katie,” Aiden purrs in my ear, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.
I freeze. Oh no, I’ve crushed him. His legs are numb. I know I don’t look it, but I’m harder to kidnap than I appear.
“Sit. The fuck. Down,” he tugs my hips back and guides me onto his lap.
“I’m heavy!” I blurt out.
His hand slides around my throat, his grip firm but not constricting, as he pulls me back against his chest. “You’re perfect.”