Alex gently nudges me off his lap and stands. "Yes, I guess I was provided fair warning." He grabs his coffee cup off the table and walks into the kitchen.
I drop my hands to my hips, the way I always do when Alex gives me vague answers to my questions. "Meaning?"
He glances at me and smiles. I tilt my head to the side. Your heart-melting smile is not going to distract me.
He walks over to me, takes my hands from my hips, and kisses. "Meaning I received a few phone calls from Mr. Terry requesting an interview to discuss my mother's death. At the time, I was a little preoccupied with the love of my life being in a coma. I never got back to him. I guess he decided to go forward without my interview."
Thomas checks his watch, stands, and nods at Alex.
"It's time for your therapy appointment. Thomas will take you, and Leigha will pick you up for your day at the spa." Alex waves his hand in the air with a flourish.
"You know, at some point, you're going to have to remember that I'm an adult and capable of driving myself from point A to point B without chaperones." I lean in and kiss his neck.
He grasps my chin between his thumb and forefinger. "Yes, but that day is not today, and tomorrow's not looking good, either."
"Hmm, well, don't postpone it much longer or I'll be forced to take matters into my own hands."
"Don't threaten me with your willfulness. You're not ready to drive, beautiful." His voice is deep and sultry, and an electric current runs through my body. The tingling sensation heats my core.
"And if I disobey you? Will you spank me? Because that might just spur me to break your rules, Mr. Stone."
A playful grin spreads across his face. How long has it been since I've seen him smile like that? I'm suddenly a hot, frenzied mess, and I want him so badly I'm ready to drop to my knees and beg him to make love to me.
"Go to therapy, Miss Tate, and stop trying to provoke me." His eyebrows pull together and he's instantly pensive.
Ice floods my chest and floods my veins. How can Alex go from being so happy and flirtatious one minute to cold and indifferent in the next? I long for things to be like they used to be. This is pure agony. I wish I could curl up in a ball until I wake from this nightmare where Alex no longer loves me.
I sling my purse over my shoulder and head for the door without another word to Alex.
Chapter Two
"Kylie, come on back."
I follow my therapist, Dr. Watson, down the hallway to his office in the far left corner. He has a nice view of the downtown area with its centuries old architecture and winding streets that lead to the docks. I sit on the love seat nestled between two bookcases filled with various psychology books.
"So how have you been doing?" He opens my file, writes something on a form inside, and looks up at me. "Any change in the nightmares?"
"Not really." I sigh, sit back, and sink into the fluffy cushions.
"How about frequency? Still about four-to-five nights a week?"
"Yes, that sounds about right."
He bends his leg, props his left foot on his right knee, and lays the open file across his makeshift lap desk. "What about in terms of the violence…or the events that occur in the dreams?"
"It's the same dream. I'm running, John is there, and he shoots Alex."
"Are you using the tips we talked about to manage your symptoms? The breathing techniques? Are those helping?" Dr. Watson makes some notes on a legal pad resting on the file.
"Yes, somewhat, I guess. When I start to feel anxious, I try to slow my breathing. Regulate it the way you showed me."
"And eating a healthy diet?"
"Yes, Maggie makes sure of that."
"Good." He looks up and smiles. "What are you doing for exercise? Have you started running again?"
I turn slightly, rest my arm along the back of the couch, and support my head in my hand. "No, I have a hard time discerning reality from nightmare when I run, and it typically ends in an anxiety attack. I'm convinced John is lurking somewhere with a gun aimed at me."
He raises his eyebrows. "Have you thought about other forms of exercise?"
I release a long, heavy sigh. "Alex set me up with his martial arts instructor, but I haven't been able to engage in it. We were supposed to do it together, but Alex thought it would be better to train separately."
"Hmm, okay. Well, how about re-establishing connections with friends?"
I shrug. "I talk to Ryan and Paul almost every night, but I haven't seen them in a couple of weeks. Leigha is picking me up after our appointment, and we're going out."
"Anyone else? Other trips outside the house?"
"That's a little more difficult. Alex doesn't want me to go out on my own. I have drivers and chaperones everywhere I go."
"Why is that?"
"Do you ever ask a question that doesn't begin with 'why?'"
He shakes his head. "Not often."
We sit, staring at each other. "Come on, Kylie. Why doesn't Alex want you to go out by yourself?"
I'm overheated and sweating. I rub my palms over my jeans and glance at Dr. Watson. I blow out my cheeks and slowly release the air. "He can't control what happens and, therefore, can't ensure my safety. I'm like a china doll—always on display but never played with because I'm too delicate and may break."
Dr. Watson widens his eyes and tilts his head to the side. "Well, it sounds as if Alex may be suffering with his own PTSD." He closes the file and places it on his desk.
Of course. How had I never considered that before? The trauma of watching his mother die and then to nearly lose me, too. My heart sinks, and a dull ache beats in my chest.
"Okay, Kylie, that's going to have to do it for today. Keep up with the breathing exercises, and I'll see you next week."
The receptionist looks up from her computer screen as we enter the spa. "Good morning, how can I help you?"
Leigha saunters up to the desk while I take in the surroundings. Soft pan-flute music is playing. Lavender, eucalyptus, and mint scent the air. Glass shelves are filled with soaps, lotions, and other products to make skin flawless while calming the senses.
Leigha steps next to me, holding two flutes of champagne. "They'll be taking us back to our private changing room in just a moment," she says in her most haughty voice while passing one of the flutes to me.
I chuckle and take a sip. Leigha is one of the most down-to-earth, unpretentious people I have ever met. It's probably why we get along so well.
I sigh. After the morning session I just had with Dr. Watson, I'm ready for a couple hours of pampering and rejuvenation. The champagne helps, too. Nothing like a massage and a bottle of bubbly to take my mind off my worries.
A young lady dressed in a white polo shirt and white pants escorts us to our changing room. We each take a shower stall and strip out of our clothes, wrapping in the plush white robes and slippers, both embellished with the spa crest in gold thread. We refill our champagne glasses and follow our escort down a long hallway to a set of frosted double doors. She pulls them open, and we step into a large room with a dozen chaise longues lining the walls. A large stone fireplace occupies the entire wall at the opposite end of the room, a roaring fire heating the space. The lights are dimmed, and the same soft music is playing. In one corner is a table with a large pitcher of cucumber water, a pot of coffee and a couple open bottles of champagne in an ice bath.
"Please feel free to help yourselves to the beverages. Victoria and Joanna will be taking care of you for the remainder of your time with us. They will be along shortly."
Leigha slides onto one of the chaises, drops her head back, and closes her eyes. "I really should do this more often."
"I hear ya," I say, lying on the chaise next to hers. "I can't remember the last time I had a massage."
"If you can't remember, it was too long."
"We should make this a once or twice a week habit." I hold out my champagne glass.
Leigha clinks her glass against the rim. "I agree. Let's
make it happen."
Over the next few minutes we chat about whether or not Will, her boyfriend and Alex's younger brother, is ever going to propose. A young woman with short brown hair appears, wearing the same uniform as the last girl. "Leigha?"
Leigha stands. "See you on the other side. Have a fabulous massage."
"You do the same." I close my eyes again. The music transforms into lightly colored waves. I drift farther from the shores of reality into the dark waters where sleep resides.
"Well, well, if it isn't Kylie Tate."
My eyes pop open. Heat flushes through me. Rebekah. The woman who has tried her damnedest to come between Alex and me—who nearly succeeded with her lies about a fake affair—stands in an identical robe with a glass of champagne. She slithers onto the chaise vacated by Leigha.
"How's your closed head injury?" She takes a drink of her champagne, her gaze never leaving mine.
My pulse races. I want to smack the glass right out of her hand and choke the shit out of her.
"Getting better every day. Thank you. How's your escort service?"
"Same rude little bitch you've always been, I see. I hear you drove your ex-boyfriend insane, and he attempted to kill you."
"Yes, turns out the two of you have a great deal in common. You're both psychotic and have failed at getting rid of me." My body temperature surges. How dare she twist John's sadistic actions into witty repartee? My temples throb, pressure builds at the base of my neck, and my head is pounding. Pain radiates through my clenched jaw. I don't think I have ever wished harm to anyone—until now. In this moment, through the haze of red before my eyes, I want her to feel the pain of a bullet breaking through skin, ripping through muscle, and tearing apart vital organs.
She tosses her head back, and tilts it to one side. "I never wished for your demise, Kylie. Although, I do feel Alex would be infinitely happier without you in his life."
"So he can be even more unhappy with someone like you?" I lean my head back and close my eyes. "You do realize that even if I'm not with Alex, he'll never want anything to do with you? Ever."
"That may be, but then again, word in our circle is Alex feels trapped. Doesn't want to stay with you, but can't leave you, either. I mean, how would it look for Mr. Philanthropist of the Year to abandon his brain-damaged girlfriend so soon after she came out of her coma?"
A heavy weight sits on the center of my chest. It's difficult to breathe, or speak. Is that true? Is Alex staying with me for appearances? It kills me to think that anything that comes out of Rebekah's mouth could be true. But it's possible I have become just another of Alex's charities.
Leigha walks in and halts. Her face twists as her eyes fall on Rebekah.
"What the hell are you doing, skank?"
Rebekah glances over her shoulder, rises, and puts out her hand. "Just chatting with Kylie. How are you, Leigha?"
Leigha pushes Rebekah's hand aside. "Don't for one minute think I'm falling for your little game, Rebekah. I know better than to trust a snake like you. Why don't you go slither back into your hole in the ground? Kylie and I aren't interested in the venom coming from your forked tongue."
Rebekah narrows her eyes, and her lips curl into a wicked smile. She struts across the room, shoulders back, and an air of indifference.
I choke back tears and march out of the room, Leigha close behind. God, I hate how weak I have become.
I yank open the locker door and slam it shut a few times before I drop my robe and pull on my clothes. "I have to go."
Leigha places her hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want to get your massage? We can stay in here until they're ready for you."
"No." I shake my head. "There's no way for me to relax, knowing she's here. I really don't want to run into her again. If you want to stay for your manicure, I understand. I can call Thomas to pick me up."
"Hell, no. If I see that cunt again, I may cut a bitch." She grins, and there's a twinkle in her eyes.
I wrap my arms around her. "Thanks."
"Sure thing, sister. We gotta stick together, right?"
The ride home is silent. Fatigue overtakes me, and misery spreads through my limbs. "Rebekah says Alex feels trapped in our relationship. Do you think that's true?"
"Are you kidding me? No way. Alex loves you."
I shrug. I want to believe her, but nothing feels the same these days. I don't recognize myself most of the time. How on earth can I expect Alex to love a woman that only partially resembles the one he fell in love with?
Leigha swings into Alex's driveway and comes to a stop near the front door. She turns in her seat, and looks me straight in the eye. "Kylie, listen to me. While you were in the coma, Alex never left your side. One day, I stopped by for a few minutes, and I stood in the doorway and watched him. He was stroking your face and begging you to come back to him, to give him another chance to be the man he was supposed to be. He kept saying how sorry he was for failing you. God, it broke my heart."
Tears sit on the rim of my lower eyelids. I swallow hard over the lump in my throat. Leigha takes my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze. "I swear I have never seen a man more in love with a woman as Alex is with you."
I nod, open the door, and get out of the car. "Thanks for that."
"Anytime, sister. That's what I'm here for. Love ya."
"Love ya back."
I slowly trudge up the steps to the front door. My legs are heavy, as if my feet have become cement blocks. Nothing compares to the heaviness I feel in my heart. Alex slipping away.
And Rebekah's words ring in my ears.
Alex is trapped. He doesn't want to stay, but can't leave.
I enter the house through the garage and immediately check the coffee pot, grab a mug from the cabinet, and drink half the cup before I track down Alex. In the past, he would've met me at the door, usually with a coffee mug in hand, and ask me about my day.
Things are different now. I crave my old life and hate what is happening to us. I resent that John was hellbent on keeping Alex and me apart and unhappy. And detest John's success to ruin our lives. Alex and I share a house, but we are not sharing our lives, and are nowhere near as happy as we once were.
I check Alex's study and stop dead in my tracks. Alex is embracing a woman. Her head is buried in the crook of his neck, and he's running his hands up and down her back.
My heart stops. I can't breathe. My lungs are suddenly working twice as hard to pull in half the air. Nothing feels real around me, almost as if I am in a dream.
The woman lifts her head and gazes into his face. "I don't know how to thank you, Alex. It means so much to me that you want to do this."
My chest is on fire. I want to run away, scream, or attack them. Instead I stand, paralyzed, and watch them embrace. Smiling as they gaze into each other's eyes.
Alex's eyes dart over to where I stand. His face blanches.
"Kylie, I didn't realize you had come home," he says, stepping away from the woman.
Heat flushes through my body. "Well, you seem to be preoccupied."
The woman faces me, and bile rises in my throat. Lisa, my former assistant and Jake's girlfriend—or so I thought. "Hi, Kylie. How are you?" My stomach twists into a knot. My skin tingles, and I'm dizzy.
What the hell is going on? Why is Lisa here, in Alex's arms, gazing at him like a lovesick puppy?
Alex walks behind his desk and sits. He runs his hand through his hair, clears his throat, but doesn't make eye contact with me. "Lisa just came by to talk to me about law school."
I fold my arms across my chest, and cock my head to the side. "Law school?" Pressure builds at my temples and my head pounds.
Lisa sits, crosses her legs and immediately uncrosses them. "Alex pulled some strings, and I was able to start this fall."
Alex straightens his tie, his gaze darting over to me. "It was nothing. The dean was very agreeable after I explained your circumstances."
"Well, I owe everything to you…getting me in, and payi
ng my tuition."
Silence. Alex fidgets with his collar, and swallows.
Lisa shifts in her seat. "I'm sorry I haven't been over to visit, Kylie. This is really the first free day I've had. I knew there would be a ton of studying, but never realized just how much until I was in the weeds. Anyway, I hope to have some free time over Thanksgiving. Maybe we can get together and get caught up?"
I plaster on a fake smile. "Sure. That'll be great."
She stands, clutching her purse, and nods at Alex. I watch her walk down the hallway to the foyer and wait to hear the door close.
"So, that's an interesting bit of news. I had no idea she got into law school—or that you're paying her tuition."
"She deserves to go. You've said yourself that she's smarter than most of the lawyers at the firm. I simply called in a couple of favors."
I snicker and shake my head. I will never understand why Alex continues to keep me in the dark. I always find out, and it forces that evil voice in my head to chant, "you can't trust him." It feels as if we are at sea, the surf choppy, and the shore a million miles away. Every time we get close to each other, within arms reach, a wave surging, crashing against the side of the boat, jostling and throwing us across the deck, and separating us from one another. Leaving us farther and farther from the shore, always adrift.
I hate that he hides things, especially little things that mean nothing on the surface, but become an implied act of betrayal when I discover them.
And it had to have taken more than a couple of favors to get her accepted that quickly. "What new building will bear your name at the law school in the coming year?"
"Library…but it will have your name on it, not mine." He comes around the desk, pulls my arms from across my chest, and wraps them around his neck. "You're the brilliant legal mind in the family. Plus, you have a love affair with libraries of all kinds. You should be the one immortalized there, not me."
The heaviness in my limbs subsides and start to tingle. There is a fluttering in my belly whenever Alex gives me that innocent boy grin. I try not to smile, but my lips curve up at the corners anyway. "Don't be sweet to me. I'm still mad at you."
Revenge: Tri-Stone Trilogy, Book Two Page 2