Holding Out for You

by Anna Paige

  I broke into a run as Blair’s terror-stricken voice rang out again.

  “Tommy, no!”

  Blair

  When I stepped back from the door, Tommy followed me inside and gave it a shove that didn’t fully close it behind him.

  I wondered briefly if I could manage to skirt around behind him and escape, but the distant sound of the shower running killed that thought even as it emerged.

  I couldn’t leave Charli. Not ever.

  Instead, I tried to act braver than I felt. “I have a restraining order. You can’t be here.” I stopped backing up and folded my arms over my chest. Partially to seem unaffected and partially because it felt like my heart was about to hammer straight through my rib cage and I somehow thought I could hold it in.

  Like a cartoon character.

  I pictured it in my head and almost let out a giggle at the thought.

  I was losing my shit.

  Hold yourself together, dammit.

  Tommy tilted his head toward the hall. “You getting ready to jump in the shower?”

  “I was,” I lied. “Until you showed up, which is breaking the law, in case you didn’t hear me the first time.”

  He shrugged and showed no signs of backing down. “I heard just fine.”

  “Then why are you here?” There was a tremble in my voice that I hated. It sounded weak, and I knew he not only noticed but got off on it.

  “You looked like you believed me.”

  “What?” I blinked, confused.

  “At the courthouse, when I said I was sorry. You looked like you believed me.” He let his gaze roam slowly down my body, his tongue darting out to sweep across his bottom lip in a gesture that made my stomach roil. “Like maybe if that asshole Hunter wasn’t there breathing down your neck you might have forgiven me, maybe even given me another chance.”

  “You’re insane. I never believed you. I’ll never forgive you, and if you step one inch closer, I’ll scream so fucking loud they’ll hear it two towns over.” I pointed at the open windows. “There’s always someone coming and going in the parking lot. Help would arrive in a heartbeat.” I glared at him with pure hatred and a building rage that was much preferable to the fear I’d been drowning in all this time. “Now get the fuck out of my apartment while you still can.”

  Someone outside honked a horn and began loudly greeting someone else across the parking lot. The timing worked out well because it distracted Tommy enough that he didn’t hear the shower turn off.

  Fuck, Charli would be stepping out any minute.

  Oh, God, please don’t let her turn on the hairdryer or he’ll know we’re not alone and he’ll go after her.

  I had to keep him distracted as long as possible. He hadn’t pulled a weapon yet, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have one.

  Hesitantly, I began to inch my way in the direction of the window even as he turned from staring out of it back to me with a bored expression. “Are you really going to try and scream out the window? Like I wouldn’t beat you to it and shut you up before you had a chance? What are you, stupid?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  His eyes narrowed into beady little slits. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

  “I didn’t say it, but I was thinking it. You’re a fucking moron for coming here. At least with that girl you attacked last year you had the sense to sneak in, wear a mask, and keep her from being able to identify you.”

  “Even if that was me, and no one ever found any proof that it was, maybe I went to all that trouble because I knew she would be around to tell the tale later. Maybe because I wanted her to have to live with it every day, knowing it was me but not having proof or the guts it takes to even utter my name.” He grinned a disturbing, crooked grin that made my blood run cold. “But maybe this time, I decided it would be better if there was no one left to run to the cops.”

  Even as my teeth started to chatter and my knees turned to jelly at his words, he began to close the distance between us. I backed up out of instinct, putting my hands up in front of me as he pulled an enormous knife from his waistband.

  “Bullets are so impersonal. Don’t know why I didn’t try this with the others.” He seemed to be talking to himself. “Bet those long legs are gonna look so hot with blood trailing down them.”

  I drew in a breath to scream, turning toward to the window as I did.

  Before I could get even a whisper out, Charli’s voice came from down the hall.

  “You and Ash better be dressed in there because I’m coming out.”

  Tommy’s eyes widened for a second before he shook the knife at me, chastising me for lying, then pivoted on his heels and started toward the sound of her voice. “Two for one.”

  Instantly, the rage was back, and I let out a feral scream that made even my own ears ring.

  He didn’t even turn to look at me as Charli stepped into the living room, pure horror on her steam-reddened face.

  “Tommy, no!” I cried as he raised the knife and closed in on her.

  Charging, I grabbed the collar of Tommy’s shirt and jerked him back with enough force to have him bouncing off the far wall. Before he could regain his balance, I bent low and tackled him, planting my shoulder into his gut and shoving his back toward the window.

  “Blair, the knife!” Charli screamed.

  Hot, searing pain pierced my side from behind as I shoved with all my might. Tommy’s back hit the windowsill and still I didn’t let up. I shoved and grunted, feeling blood trickle down my legs just as he’d predicted.

  “Fuck! Blair!” Ash’s voice cut into the chaos and for a split second, Tommy was distracted enough to lose his hold on the window’s casing.

  I didn’t let that mistake pass.

  Taking one step back, I came at him again and buried my shoulder in his gut, catching him at just the right angle to send him toppling out the window.

  He grabbed my upper arm and with it a handful of my hair as he fell, but Ash took hold of my waist and kept me from being dragged through. It felt like one side of my scalp was being ripped off and my arm was wrenched painfully out of socket, but I didn’t fall.

  Ash didn’t let me.

  Watching Tommy plummet three stories to the ground was the most disturbing thing I’d ever seen, and unlike those slow-motion scenes in movies, it was over in a blink. One minute he was there, hanging onto me by the arm and the next his vacant eyes were staring up at me from the concrete below.

  Dark blood seeped around the outline of his head and his legs looked like broken strands of spaghetti, haphazardly arranged around him.

  Someone in the parking lot let out a scream.

  Then more screams joined in.

  I thought maybe some of them were mine, but I realized I couldn’t breathe well enough to make such a noise.

  Bile rose in my throat and my whole body was shaking as Ash pulled me back into the apartment and laid me onto the carpet.

  “Charli, call nine-one-one.” He had his phone in one hand even as the other stroked my cheek. His frightened eyes never left mine as he spoke. “Becker, get the fuck up here. Tommy was here. Blair’s been stabbed.”

  Ash didn’t have the call on speaker, but I could clearly hear my brother’s startled, “Fuck! Is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay.”

  “I’ve got her. Charli is calling an ambulance. And Tommy’s brains are all over the sidewalk. Just get the fuck up here, Beck. Now!” He didn’t wait for a reply. He ended the call, dropped his phone, and ran both hands up and down my sides.

  “You didn’t tell him I’m okay. I am, though, right?” I wheezed out, finding it harder and harder to speak as I fought the watery feeling in my chest.

  “You’re going to be fine, baby.” But he didn’t look entirely confident in his own words.

  “Of course you are.” Charli leaned in and gave me a smile around the phone in her hand, but her chin was quivering. “You just saved my life. You gotta stick around for a long, long ti
me so you can milk that shit.”

  I tried to chuckle but only a strange gurgling sound came out, and I choked on a mouthful of blood.

  “Blair!” Ash leaned down and cupped my face even as my vision swirled and began to go black.

  I couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe, and could barely see, so I told him I loved him the only way I knew how. I placed one hand over my heart and the other over his.

  “Blair! Keep your eyes open for me, baby, please!” His voice broke as he covered the hand I’d placed on his chest with his.

  Becker’s voice suddenly boomed from the hallway as he skidded inside, his shoes screeching on the hard floor. “Where is she?”

  No one answered, but I could hear him drawing closer. Problem was, I couldn’t see him. Or anything really.

  “Blair!” Charli shrieked.

  I choked on another mouthful of blood.

  And then . . . darkness.

  Ashton

  Blair was in the hospital for over a week. Longest ten days of my fucking life. Seriously, I’d pined for her for years, denied myself longer than most men could even fathom, reveled for a few precious days in the knowledge that she was finally mine, and then been thrust into a weeklong hell that threatened to take her away for good.

  The stab wound had punctured Blair’s right lung, necessitating surgery to repair the tear. Her right arm had been dislocated, as well. Those first hours, when seven of us—me, Beck, Charli, my mom and dad, and the Martells—packed into the tiny waiting room and took turns pacing were the longest hours in the history of all humanity.

  Wendy, Blair’s mom, was a complete wreck, shaking and crying until we all thought she’d give herself a heart attack. My mom took up post at her side and didn’t budge. Charli took the other side but was little comfort to anyone as she stared off into space, her face pale and drawn.

  My dad and Blair’s dad, Ben, stood off to the side, sullen and silent as they watched the rest of us work through our shit. They were at the ready if needed, but fighting their own fear in that quiet, fatherly way they both shared.

  There was no need for anyone to tell Ben about me and his daughter. It was written there on my face. If he objected, he was saving it for later.

  Beck was tucked into a corner, slumped forward in one of the hard, plastic chairs, his head in his hands.

  I was perched by the door, leaning against the frame with my eyes trained down the hall, waiting for those big double doors to open and someone—any-fucking-one—to come tell us what was happening with Blair.

  When it finally happened, when a tired looking doctor strolled in and said the operation went well, we all sighed in relief and thought that was the end of it.

  Two days later the lung collapsed again, and she went into shock, which meant another surgery and another round of pacing and waiting that nearly killed us all.

  But she was a fighter, my Blair-bear, and she made it through. Her arm was in a sling from being dislocated and she could barely speak above a whisper without wincing in pain, but she was going to be okay, and that was all that mattered.

  That, and knowing when she came home, she’d be safe again.

  Tommy was no longer a threat, not that I’d had anything to do with it. That was all Blair. Seeing him closing in on Charli must have been more than she could take.

  My girl took that bastard down.

  I was just thankful I got there in time to keep him from taking her down with him.

  The police came by when she was able to be interviewed and took her statement. As she was defending herself in her own home, no charges would be filed and the whole awful mess was officially over as far as the police were concerned.

  Tommy’s funeral was held three days after the attack, while Blair was recovering from the second surgery and all of our energy was focused on her.

  Cody came by to visit on day five and pulled me aside to inform me that he’d talked with one of the gravediggers at Woodbridge cemetery who’d been on duty for Tommy’s burial. Burial, not funeral, since there apparently had been no service.

  There were only three attendees: his parents—who’d refused a formal service, kept their heads down, and disappeared immediately afterward—and a young woman around Blair’s age who lingered long enough afterward to spit into the open grave even as the workers were beginning to fill it in.

  Like Tommy’s parents, she disappeared right after.

  There was no doubt in my mind who she was, and I could only hope that she, too, would feel safe again with him gone.

  Despite what he’d done, she could march into her future without the shadow of him looming over her.

  We all could.

  And I for one couldn’t wait.

  Epilogue

  Blair

  “Has it really been a year already?” I muttered as I lay draped across Ash’s chest and stared up at the night sky. We were back on the football field, in “our spot” as Ash had taken to calling it, on the anniversary of our first date.

  “Down to the minute.” He kissed the top of my head and ran his hands up and down my arm.

  “Any regrets?”

  There was no hesitation. “Just one.”

  I sat up and propped myself up on one elbow. “Really? What?”

  He rolled himself over, pinning me down on my back again and staring deep into my eyes. “Waiting so long.”

  “To finally tell me how you felt?”

  He shook his head, one hand snaking down between us.

  This fool is gonna get us an indecent exposure charge.

  I prepared myself for the feel of his fingers fumbling with my jeans, but that sensation never came. There was some wiggling and shifting on his part—not that I was complaining since every wiggle had his erection rubbing against me—and a moment later, he made an ‘aha’ sound and presented me with a tiny, platinum box.

  “I regret waiting so long for this.”

  He rolled off me but stayed right by my side as he opened the box and revealed a stunning diamond and platinum ring. It was so beautiful I could barely breathe.

  What was more beautiful was the way he was looking at me.

  “Ash . . .” My voice broke and my chin trembled.

  He sat the open box on my chest, nestling it between my breasts, and cupped my cheek with one hand. “Blair, I’ve got memories of you at every stage of my life. When I was ten, you were there watching me try to be cool jumping off the diving board at the pool, only to trip and damn near crack a tooth on the stupid thing before I hit the water. When I was twelve and my dad walked out on us, you found a way to make it better, if only for a little while. When I was eighteen and leaving for college, you gave me the biggest hug of the day and sneaked an extra container of brownies into my luggage, so I wouldn’t have to fight Beck for some of his.”

  “I thought you’d assume it was my mom,” I whispered, smiling.

  “I saw you put them in my duffle bag, because I couldn’t keep my eyes off you, even then. I’ve always been aware of you, even before I understood why. My most vivid memories all have you in them. Arguing, bickering, or quietly supporting each other, it’s always been you and me in technicolor in my mind. And I don’t want that to stop, Blair.” He ran the tip of his pointer finger over the ring, still in its box. “I want the memories I haven’t made yet to include you. I want you in my life, in my home, in my wedding photos. I want you holding my babies—our babies—in your arms. And when I’m old and withered and the end is closing in, I want you by my side.”

  He shifted until he was sitting on his heels and took the box from my chest. “Blair Martell, love of my life and former pain in my ass . . .” I chuckled at that despite the lump in my throat. “Will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?”

  I tilted my head and pretended to think it over. “I could still be a pain in your ass on occasion, you know?”

  “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

  I held up my trembling hand and smiled so wide my cheeks ac
hed. “Then . . . yes. I would absolutely love to be your wife.”

  The following spring, we were married on the very beach where it all began, and those old, disturbing memories were replaced by new, beautiful ones.

  Ash moved into the apartment with me after the wedding—though he already basically lived there anyway—and Charli took Ash’s old room in the downstairs apartment with Becker. My mom was scandalized by the arrangement, them not being married, but the separate bedrooms thing got her to calm a bit.

  Of course, the fact they slept in the same bed every night—whether hers or his—was a bit of information Mom need not have.

  Charli and I graduated in June and after a few weeks of getting sorted, we each landed jobs we loved. Hers was with the county, putting her right down the hall from Miss Bonnie, who kept her well fed and up to date on all the gossip. My position as an office manager for an insurance agency wasn’t glamorous, but I adored my work family and was appreciated. Couldn’t ask for much more than that.

  Becker, though still scouted by the occasional head-hunter, was not only content in his locally-based position, he was moving up fast, his drive and talent allowing him to break into management within the first nine months after he was hired.

  Ash remained at the tech company whose offer he’d taken the year before, loving that they were a competitor of sorts of the firm Becker eventually signed on with. There was a lot of shit-talk between the two of them, not that there hadn’t been before. Ash also designed software on the side and said he was biding his time until he had the capital to start his own firm, where Becker would no doubt be signing on, no matter how much he pretended otherwise.

  Everyone was gainfully-employed, safe, and content, as it should be.

  My parents were traveling regularly, and it was doing amazing things for their marriage. They were like teenagers again, heavy on the PDAs, much to my brother’s chagrin.

  Phil and Janet were more committed to each other than ever and spent every free moment at the cabin, which Janet had started referring to as their love nest. Ash hadn’t wanted to spend another night there since, which I found hilarious.