33. Chapter 33
thirty-three
I t felt like they’d drifted off for hours in each other’s arms when Julian untangled himself from their blanket.
Annie opened her heavy eyes. As sleep released her, she realized his bedroom was lighter than it had been when they’d first entered. Julian knelt on their pillows and looked out the small round window over the head of the bed.
At the slam of a car door, she flinched.
“Someone’s here.” He squinted. He cursed softly under his breath. “I don’t recognize the car.”
She sat up on her elbow, a crease forming between her brows. She glanced at the clock on Julian’s bedside table. “It’s four in the morning.”
“Maybe a neighbor needs something.” Julian stepped off the bed and yanked on his shirt and jeans.
He had his shirt half on as he went to his nightstand.
From the drawer, he pulled a firearm and a small box.
He glanced over at her as he loaded two bits of ammunition into the gun before he tucked the weapon into the back of his pants.
“Just in case. Stay here.” With the hard expression on his face, he looked so far from a man who’d just lain with his lover.
Annie quickly pulled her dress on, too. Her heart hammered in her chest, as if she’d just heard the unwelcome call of a nearby wild animal. Something didn’t feel right .
Totally not spooky at all… It’s fine... Just fine...
Nervous, she realized her phone was still downstairs with everything she’d brought into the cabin. Something told her to grab her phone. On tiptoes, she slipped downstairs.
When Julian saw her, he frowned and hissed, “Go back upstairs.”
“I wanna be able to call 911. In case.”
Looking grim, he smoothed his hair back from his forehead and waited.
Purse in hand, she started back up the creaky stairs. She flinched when her phone, still tucked inside, began to ring.
The hell…?
She sprinted up the stairs, pulling her phone out. The number was a mystery, and she let it go unanswered. To her surprise, the caller left a voicemail.
For whatever reason, a chill ran through her. Curious, she opened her inbox and listened. Although it was an unfamiliar phone number, she was greeted by a familiar voice.
“Babe, I know you’re here. Your car’s out front,” came Christopher’s voice.
A demanding knock came from the door downstairs.
“We need to talk,” the voicemail went on. “I came to bring you home.”
Someone’s determined to get our attention. Julian wasn’t a paranoid man, but given the hour of the night… They were either in a real bind, or had themselves brought a heap of trouble to his doorstep. His hand went back to the gun in his waistband. His other hand reached for a deadbolt.
“Julian. W-wait! ”
He twisted around. The last thing he wanted was to put Annie in danger. A growl of exasperation escaped him. “Stay upstairs.”
“It’s Chris,” she whispered, pointing at the door. “He just called me.”
“Who? Your–”
“My ex. He’s outside.”
Julian went cold with anger. This asshole was on his property? In the middle of the damn night? “Why’s he here?”
“He’s trying to get me back. She held a hand to her forehead. “Look, he’s been to Molly’s cabin before. But I don’t know how he figured out I was here.”
“Is this something to worry about?”
“No, no. I have zero interest in hi—”
“Annie. Is he dangerous?”
“No…”
“Is he stalking you?”
The color drained from her face. She trembled. “I don’t know. Peter was worried he might…” She tucked her rumpled hair behind her ear.
A second later, her phone lit up and her ringer went off again.
Another bang on the door.
She declined the call and appeared to be texting the number back. “Just leave, Chris...” she hissed between her teeth. Her hands shook violently. When her ex’s voice came through the door, she almost dropped her phone.
“I’m not leaving! I’m not giving up on you!” A pause. “I’ll break this door down if I have to, babe!” His voice went weepy. “I love you…”
Julian’s spine tingled. It was obvious Chris wouldn’t give up easily. The state troopers were easily twenty minutes away. If they could handle this themselves, end this tonight… “He’s never been violent towards you?” he whispered.
Annie shook her head hard. “He’s just passive aggressive.”
Julian’s fingers flexed at his side, caught between reaching for his gun and reaching for Annie. Was calling the cops the responsible thing to do? Yes. But putting the fear of God into Chris, however, would be far more satisfying. “I’ll tell him to leave,” he finally said, voice tight.
“No. I should do it,” Annie replied. “Tell him off to his face.” But even as she said it, her stomach twisted even tighter.
Julian shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
“It’ll mean more coming from me.” What Julian had no way of knowing was that she hadn’t been face-to-face with Chris since his nightmare of a house party. This confrontation, this solid closure, was long overdue.
His eyes shifted, betraying the conflict in his own mind. It was clear he wanted to protect her, wanted to take the lead. “You’re sure he isn’t violent?”
She nodded. “Just arrogant and dismissive.”
Julian hesitated, his jaw working. Then, moving his arm behind his back, he said, relenting, “If there’s any funny business.”
Annie heard the small click and flinched, torn between what it implied and the sense of security the gun brought them. Nodding, she handed him her phone. “I’ll be quick.”
Julian unbolted the door. As she opened the door and walked out, he turned the porch light on for her.
Chris sat on the steps, slouched, hugging himself in the bitingly cold air.
Dressed in only a rumpled t-shirt and jeans, it was no wonder.
He looked over his shoulder and his face lit up.
“ Annie! Thank God!” he exclaimed, his voice a blend of relief and desperation.
Instead of rising to his feet, Chris turned and dropped to his knees.
He crawled towards her. Angry patches of pink flesh blotched the center of his puffy face. A scruffy beard shadowed his jawline.
“Please come back–”
“Chris!” Blood rushed to her face. Second-hand embarrassment left her scrambling for what to say.
“The house’s so empty without you, Annie!” he pleaded, voice raw. Still on his knees, he stopped in front of her.
“Chris, get up!” She grabbed two fistfuls of jersey knit to pull his sorry carcass up by the shoulders. Up close, the alcohol on his breath hit her like a brick. Did he drive drunk?
Fear trickled down her spine.
“I can’t lose you,” he sobbed. Before she could sidestep, he dove forward and grabbed onto her waist. He blubbered into her stomach, wholeheartedly debasing himself. “Don’t leave me…”
Annie froze, holding her hands up, panicking.
“I’ll stop. No more parties at the house.”
“It’s more than just partying. I keep telling you—”
“All the booze down the toilet, every drop of it,” he blubbered on. “I’m so sorry. I got fired this week. I don’t know what to do. We’re perfect together!”
His wet face dampened her bodice. Letting him cry — she owed him that, at least?
Didn’t she? Even though he’d frustrated her to no end, his distress broke her heart.
It was a straight punch to the gut. Maybe if she’d been more tactful when she’d left, maybe breaking up would have been easier on them both.
She let out a heavy breath and glanced over her shoulder.
Julian stood in the doorway, looking horrified.
He took a step forward, but she held up a hand.
I can take care of this myself. “Chris,” she said as evenly as she could manage, “Chris, listen to me closely. ”
Still sobbing, Chris hugged her tighter. His whole body shook.
“You’re the person you’re going to be. There’s somebody waiting to be with you fully. But I’m not that person, Chris. We can’t make each other into the people we need each other to be.”
“I can change, though… We can work together…”
She shook her head and reluctantly patted his head. “No... I’m... no. You have to change on you own. For yourself. I’m not coming back, Christopher. We’re done.”
Sobs wracked his shoulders even harder. In reply to her words, his thick arms constricted around her.
Annie winced.
“I’m nothing without you.”
“Chris, let go. You’re–”
Letting out a strangled, feral groan, her ex suddenly went down into a crouch and lifted her up and over his shoulder.
“No!” Annie’s soft-hearted grief erupted into black terror. “C-Chris– No, stop—please!” Her voice was caught somewhere between a command and a scream. Her fists pounded against his back.
He staggered forward. “Shoulda done this the night you ran away.”
Julian rushed forward, catching one of her arms with two hands. Both men stumbled. Chris cursed loudly, spun, and reared his fist back.
A solid thwack broke the silence of the night. Julian fell away from Annie.
Shit! Annie’s vision swung as Chris moved again. She wriggled and tried to kick, but he held onto her legs with an iron grip. They went down the deck stairs, his ragged breath against her bare skin .
“Christopher, please—” she begged. Some part of her wanted to believe he really wouldn’t hurt her, but he’d just punched out Julian. “You’re not thinking. This isn’t— you can’t kidnap—”
It was a short distance to his car, but Chris panted like he’d sprinted a mile.
“Not kidnapping. We’re going home!” Unsteadily, he yanked open the rear passenger, pulled her off his shoulder, and set her next to the car.
His bruising grip locked onto her bicep.
She tugged her arm and reared back, disgusted, and shoved his other hand away, but he caught hold of her dress. He picked her up.
“No!” Her hands scrambled to grab the door and door frame. She braced her legs against the car seat.
He grabbed a fistful of her short hair and shook her soundly. Tears erupted in her eyes, blurring her vision, and her hands slipped. When she fell face forward on the seat, legs out of the car, she gasped for air.
“I deserve better than someone like you,” he spat, “but I won’t give up on us.” He grabbed her legs and pushed her inside.
“Don’t move!”
“The fu–”
“I said,” came Julian’s voice, “Don’t. Move.”
Dizzy, Annie twisted around. Julian stood beside the car, arm extended, gun pointed at her ex’s head.