by Morgan James
“Oh? What’s that?” Her back stiffened a bit in apprehension, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“How would you feel about meeting my parents?” His back was to her as he checked on the food, unaware of her discomfort. “I was thinking maybe we could go up there one weekend soon and you could meet them and my sisters. They’ll love you.”
He threw a grin over his shoulder and she forced a smile to her lips. “That sounds... nice. But isn’t it a bit soon?”
Hearing the hesitation in her voice, he turned and rested one hip against the counter. He studied her for a moment before speaking, his face unreadable. “It was just a thought.”
She nodded. “I can see what I have going on.”
He relaxed a fraction and smiled. “I know things have been a little hectic. Once this is all over, we can focus on you and me.”
She nodded, not entirely convinced. What would happen when this was over? This was the last week that he was scheduled to work security at her building. Did he already have something else lined up? Would they see each other after this?
Blake’s words tore her from her reverie and she jerked her attention back to him. “What do you think of the country?”
“It’s fine. Why?”
He glanced at her and shrugged before turning back to the stove. “I think I’d ultimately like to find a home with a little bit of space, a big yard for kids to run around.”
“Okay.” Her eyebrows drew together in confusion and he laughed.
“It’s just something I’ve been thinking, especially after someone broke in here. What if we moved in together?”
Her eyes rounded in surprise. She’d been trying to figure out where he was going with that train of thought, but this was the last thing she’d expected. She probably should be glad he planned to stick around, since she’d been wondering just moments before what would happen to them after his job with her was over. But this? It was all a little too much.
“I just...” She held up a hand. “Can we take a step back for a minute?”
He leaned against the counter, dismay on his face as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I knew it was too soon. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
No, she’d needed to hear it. She just wasn’t entirely sure it was what she wanted to hear. “We’ve only known each other for a few weeks. Why do you want to move in together?”
“For one,” he ticked it off on his fingers, “I think you’ll be safer. And two, I like being with you. I like spending my nights with you, having dinner together, waking up with you.”
“Yeah, but... it’s too soon.” Johnathan’s words from earlier resounded in her mind and she struggled to push them away. Blake wasn’t like that.
“Do you think so?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I just... Someone told me today to take things slow, make sure it was what I wanted.”
“Johnathan.”
She shifted uneasily and stared over his shoulder at the wall. “Well, I went over to his place and—”
“I thought you were going to stop encouraging him.”
Disapproval drenched his words and irritation flared within her. “I actually stopped by to tell him that you and I were seeing each other. I never pegged you for the possessive type.”
“Only when some asshole is trying to seduce my girlfriend,” he shot back.
She hesitated, the breath stolen from her lungs at his declaration. “Is that what I am?”
He threw her a look of disbelief. “I thought we’d established that.”
She shrugged and shifted on her feet. “We never talked about it.”
“I assumed you felt the same way.” His eyes narrowed, his tone accusing. “Is that not what you want?”
“I...” It was exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it? Thoughts whirled through her mind and she fought to focus. She needed time to think on everything—besides, he was changing the subject. “That really isn’t the point right now.”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course it is!” He exploded, throwing his arms wide. “Why the hell do you think I get so pissed about this whole thing? No guy wants to see his girlfriend with another man, Victoria. I know he’s your friend, but we can’t go on like this. All he’s done since day one is try to coerce you away from me. That’s not something a friend would do. If he cared about you at all, he would want you to be happy.”
“He does want me to be happy. You’re the one that’s jealous and trying to isolate me from my friends.”
“That’s not true,” he countered. “Just him. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like him.”
“Please,” she huffed. “You’re just jealous and want me all to yourself. Why does it matter so much to you?”
“Because I love you, damn it!” Blake raked his fingers through his hair and turned away from her.
She froze, her heart constricting in her chest. It was what she wanted to hear, so why did it feel so wrong? She was so confused. She needed time to process everything and break it down rationally. “No, you don’t. You can’t.”
He turned back to her, a sad smile on his face. “I do.” She automatically recoiled even as his voice gentled and he reached for her. “You were made for me. You feel it too, sweetheart, I know you do. We fit; we belong together. I love you and you love me.”
She shook her head vehemently in denial. “You don’t love me, Blake. It’s just the stress from the past few weeks, and... we wouldn’t even be together if I hadn’t gotten that phone call.”
“Who cares how we met? All that matters is you and me. We’re here now, together. I need you, Victoria.”
She took a step backward and wrapped her arms around her waist. Maybe it was a hero complex—maybe the attachment they’d formed had been borne out of that alone. “I understand that you think you need me, but you don’t. It’s not healthy to feel that way about someone. In a lot of traumatic experiences, people form a special bond. But it’s easy to perceive that shared empathy as love. What’s between us isn’t—”
“I know how I feel.” He cut her off, his tone firm and resolute. “Just because you refuse to acknowledge it doesn’t mean it’s not true. No amount of persuasion on your part will ever convince me that I’m not in love with you. My feelings won’t change—not ever. I’ll wait for you, Victoria. Forever, if that’s what it takes.”
“I... I think you should go.” She pulled her arms tighter against herself, afraid that she’d fly apart if she loosened her hold even the tiniest bit.
His eyes pleaded with her. “You let him plant that seed of doubt, Victoria, don’t you see? This is exactly what he wants. He wants you to doubt me, to walk away from what we have. But you know me. And deep down you know I love you—will always love you. The truth is, you’re afraid. You don’t want to admit you love me, too. And that’s what scares you the most.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t love you.”
Her arms remained crossed and he pulled one hand free. She half-heartedly tried to pull back but surrendered, looking away to hide the mist gathering in her eyes. He placed a kiss on her palm before releasing her.
“When you finally start listening to your heart, you’ll know the truth.”
With a sad smile, Blake turned and walked out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The man drummed his fingers on the expensive desk and stared out the window. He should feel happy. He should be content. Instead, he felt restless... incomplete.
He brushed his thumb lightly over his upper lip. It still felt strange sometimes to not feel the gap that had once split his mouth. Adult skin wasn’t as resilient as children’s, but the scar cream they’d given him after the surgery had worked wonders. Though the flesh had been healed for several years now, he’d continued to use it. Maybe it was all in his mind, but he was terrified of being associated with the boy he’d left thousands of miles and many years behind.
Once, he hadn’t had two nickels to rub together. Now, he h
ad a successful business and everything his heart desired. Everything but her. She should know by now how determined he could be once he set his mind to something. Of course, he’d never told her about his past; not the truth of it, anyway.
For as long as he could remember, rage had consumed him. His father had been an abusive drunk, taking his anger out first on his mother, then himself as he got older. His mother had abandoned him just after he’d turned twelve, turning to drugs to escape her dismal reality. He’d found her one afternoon when he returned home from school, her eyes cold and lifeless as she gazed at the ceiling from where she lay reclined on the couch.
He’d received the thrashing of his life that night as if he had wielded the needle himself, and the last scrap of humanity within him fell away. He lived with his father for the next five years until one night, he’d had enough. Father had come home drunk with fire in his eyes, and he knew one of them wouldn’t see the light of morning. Self-defense, he’d claimed when the police questioned him about the knife he’d wielded against his raging father. With a track record a mile long and a bad reputation in town, the police had been eager to believe a seventeen-year-old boy struggling to survive under a tyrant’s rule. Only he and his father knew the truth of that night—and now the secret would be carried to his grave.
For a brief period of time, custody had been awarded to his father’s sister, an equally abrasive, worthless excuse of a human being. The tiny house had reeked of gin and cigarettes and he’d left the day he’d turned eighteen in search of a better life. She’d ridiculed him for going to college. She’d called him ugly and worthless, told him he’d never amount to anything; he was no better than his trailer park roots. He’d reluctantly gone back at her request several years later, one weekend during his senior year at West Virginia University. She’d been evicted from the house for not paying rent, and, out of familial obligation, he’d driven up to help her move. Little did he know that the trip would change his life. It was then that he’d experienced his first taste of raw, pure power. It was the same fateful weekend he’d met Victoria—though her name was Bekah back then.
The morning following the murder, his aunt had accosted him as he came out of the tiny spare bedroom. Though he’d spent an hour or more cleaning himself and getting rid of his clothes once he’d gotten home, she’d somehow known he was responsible. The death of one local woman and the assault of another had been all over the morning news.
She’d looked him in the eyes and pointed a bony finger at him in accusation. “You killed that girl, didn’t you?” When he failed to respond, she’d continued her tirade. “They know what you look like. They’ll come for you.”
She’d made to move past him, probably in the hopes of finding more damning evidence in his room. For a split second, panic had assailed him. But then there was something... more. Confusion had filled her cold, snake-like eyes as his hand whipped out and fisted in her shirt. Fear immediately replaced the confusion as he’d shoved her away from him, watching with an odd sense of detachment as she’d tumbled backward, her body landing in an awkward, lifeless heap at the base of the stairs. For good measure, he’d kicked a moving box down behind her and, as far as he knew, the authorities still believed she’d broken her neck after she’d tripped while carrying it down the stairs.
He’d gathered his things, wiped down every surface he could have possibly come in contact with, then climbed in the car and made the two-hour journey back to campus. His life had taken a completely different turn that day. He’d thought his father’s murder had been a fluke—just a young boy trying to protect himself and survive. But it was so much more than that. It was the gateway that had set him on this path. While he’d initially broken away to make a better life for himself, he’d never imagined something so amazing lay in store.
For years he’d tried to recreate that feeling, the high of his first. When he’d taken Leah’s life that night, he felt like he could move mountains. But none of the others had been the same. Even Victoria’s demise wasn’t at all what he’d planned. She was never supposed to fall over that bridge into the water, and she certainly wasn’t supposed to live.
And then he learned she’d become a psychologist, of all things. He couldn’t help seeking her out, putting himself in her path. He’d concocted the most ridiculous reason to speak with her, but she’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. And in turn, he’d fallen for her. He’d come to her with an intricate plan of revenge but had been blindsided by the reality of her. She was nothing like Leah, nothing like the other women he’d taken over the years. Victoria was the embodiment of perfection. Clean and untouched, sweet and devoted, she was perfection personified. He’d spent years perfecting his plan and instead had found his perfect mate. The revelation had hit him hard—he wanted to keep her by his side forever, cherish her.
It was almost comical how uncomfortable she was with men, and he felt a momentary twinge of regret for the discomfort he’d caused her all those years ago. That feeling was eclipsed, however, by the possessiveness he felt for her. He had marked her as his own that day, and she would never belong to anyone else. Red flashed before his eyes as he thought of the man he’d seen her with. He couldn’t allow that. Victoria was meant for him alone, and he would take her with him.
He clutched the paper in his hand, crumpling it in his fist, and let loose a low string of oaths. The short newspaper article declared that the police were following a new lead from the break-in at her house, and an eye witness was supposedly giving them a composite sketch. Had someone actually seen him? It was possible, he supposed, but he’d taken the utmost care in concealing himself in plain sight. He was there often enough to blend in, but he couldn’t take the chance. He would have to move soon—it would only be a matter of time before he popped up on their radar. He had to get to her before then.
He regretted the way he’d left things the last time they were together. He hadn’t meant to upset her, but desperation had overruled him and he’d lashed out. Now, he’d have to find a way to get to her and get back into her good graces. But how? Victoria was a complex creature, and he would have to find something that called to her, something she wouldn’t be able to ignore. A slow smile spread over his face as a plan began to form in his mind.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Well, you look like shit.”
Blake flipped his friend a one-finger salute and returned his focus to the papers scattered across the desk in front of him. Jason had pulled everything he could find on Greg Andrews but, so far, there didn’t seem to be any motive to hurt Victoria, nor did the man have any ties to Ohio that they could find. He’d been scouring the pages for hours now, almost certain he was missing something, unsure exactly what it was.
“Things go sideways already?”
“Fuck off.” At his friend’s intent stare, he growled low in his throat and leaned back in his chair. “Goddamn it. Yes, we had a fight.”
“And?”
“What the hell do you mean, ‘and’?”
Con shrugged. “What are you doing about it?”
Nothing. He was doing absolutely nothing. Worse, he was pretty sure things were beyond repair. She had completely ignored every call and text for the past two days. He’d tried to apologize when he’d seen her at the healthplex, but she’d run in the opposite direction. Not before he’d seen the tears in her eyes, though. The thought gutted him. He had no idea where he’d gone wrong and no idea how to fix things.
In retrospect, he probably should’ve kept his mouth shut, at least until she’d had a little more time to come to terms with everything. They’d only known each other for a few weeks, but he knew deep down he didn’t want anyone else. He wanted Victoria by his side—forever. He was willing to wait that long, too, but he couldn’t fix things if she continued to ignore him. And she wouldn’t be upset if she didn’t care, right?
He let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know. Maybe she just needs some time.”
Con shook his head. “That’s
the last thing she needs. Trust me. The longer you give her to stew over it, the harder it is to overcome. Go see her, make her talk to you. You’ll never accomplish anything by sitting here doing nothing.”
Blake raised an eyebrow. “You get that from a greeting card?”
Con returned Blake’s sentiment from earlier and flipped him off.
Blake laughed. “I think you missed your calling. You should have been a motivational speaker.”
Con pushed off the doorjamb. “Turn off the lights when you leave, asshole.”
He stifled a grin. “Hey, man, I appreciate it.”
Con harrumphed, staring at the floor, and once again Blake thought back on the snippets of conversation he and his friend had shared over the years. He wouldn’t trust advice from just anyone and wondered vaguely if the guidance Con had offered was from personal experience. He couldn’t remember the woman’s name, but Blake knew she’d been Con’s high school sweetheart. Whatever had happened, though, was a mystery and it had obviously affected his friend.
He was curious about what had happened, but he had enough of his own shit to worry about. Hell, he couldn’t even fix his relationship with Victoria. His head dropped back against the chair and he stared at the ceiling.
Damn that asshole Johnathan for planting seeds of doubt in her mind. Blake wanted to rip him limb from limb, claim her as his own and force him to accept it. But Victoria had to make that decision. He’d been vindicated, at least, when the other man had shown up at the healthplex a couple days ago and presumably been turned away by Victoria. Johnathan had swaggered into the building with a confident smirk only to return minutes later, shooting daggers at Blake as he passed. He hoped Victoria had given the man the set down he deserved and more.
It pained Blake to know that Johnathan was being so selfish. He clearly wanted her for himself, though she refused to see it that way. The man knew that Victoria had been happy with Blake but he was too jealous to do what was best for her. Blake felt bad for the guy. Kind of. He couldn’t imagine being just friends with a woman like Victoria. Any man would be lucky to have her, and it would be torture to have her in his life but not be able to touch her intimately. He prayed to God she would come to her senses, and soon, because not being able to hold her, love her, laugh with her, was driving him crazy.