by Kira Berger
“I know. I’ll make sure of that.” The promise in his voice warms my entire body, and I melt into his embrace. For the first time in a long while, I let myself bask in the protectiveness of another without feeling guilty. “I just wish there was more we could do to stop shit from happening in the first place. I feel like we’re sitting ducks waiting for this to go south. I don’t like it.”
I can feel the steely grip he has on my thigh, his muscles tensing underneath me. I try to soothe his inner turmoil by running my hand across his chest. When the tension doesn’t leave him, I do something I haven’t done in what feels like forever, I cup his cheek and reassure him, “It’s going to be fine, handsome. You were right, nothing is going to happen. Not with you and Brendan watching over me. And I promised to be careful. Okay?”
We hold each other’s gaze, sharing silent mutual promises. Promises we’ll probably break down the road but need to hear in this moment.
Duncan peers into my eyes so long I’m starting to get nervous. What is he looking for? Can he see the lie I know deep in my soul I just told? I pray he can’t. But there is no doubt in my mind that Niall will get to me; he’ll try to hurt me. Like he has before. And if he can’t, he’ll hurt those I love. And I won’t let that happen. There is no way I’ll let Duncan, or Emma, or Brendan pay the price for my mistakes. I will always put their safety above mine.
“Okay, baby,” he finally tells me, breaking eye contact to look at Brendan. I can’t decipher the look he shares with his brother.
Watching the closeness of the two now only intensifies the ache I’ve felt inside of me ever since Oliver died. An ache I’m able to ignore most day but grows stronger whenever I’m reminded I lost my best friend, my partner in crime, my brother.
“Alrighty then.” Emma claps and drags me out of my memories. I look at her to see she’s composed herself and is seemingly back to her bubbly and always positive self, but I can see the tension in the lines of her body. Emma isn’t as positive as she pretends to be. “That settles it then. You guys are gonna keep Alex safe until her crazy ex is locked away. But until anything changes, how about we go eat something? Or order in? I’m starved.” The smile she sends me is reassuring and kind, letting me know she is here for me no matter what.
I’m glad for the distraction.
“Yes, I’m actually hungry, too.” I take a breath, coming to a decision. I won’t let Niall scare me enough to keep me locked indoors. He’s done this enough, it’s time for me to reclaim my life. “And let’s go out to eat. I don’t really want to give him the satisfaction of keeping us inside. It’s not like he’ll come near me with you around. Let’s go enjoy the rest of today, like we planned to. No one is going to ruin the rest of today.”
This seems to break the men out of their silent communication and the tension dissipates. “Sounds good,” Duncan says, pulling me against him tighter.
I lean my head against his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of his arms around me. For the first time in months, I enjoy the comfort given to me by someone after what happened in the past. “Any preference?”
“Wings,” is Brendan’s prompt reply.
“Burgers,” Duncan says at the same time.
I burst out laughing the same time Emma does. “Bar food? Let me guess, there’s a game starting soon?” I say through my laughter.
“Ah,” Brendan hedges. “Maybe.”
“No worries, boys,” Emma tells them. “We can go to the bar so you can watch some football. Alex and I will keep ourselves otherwise occupied.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever. We’ll have drinks while you’re yelling at a TV screen.”
“It’s the first game of the season. It’s important. The whole season can be ruined by a bad first game.”
“Whatever you say, handsome.” I pat his face reassuringly and move to get up from his lap. “I can’t take a sport seriously that stops every two seconds. What’s the fun in that? Plus, if you want to see actual football I’ll take you to an Arsenal or West Ham game.”
I make my way toward the bathroom with the intention of freshening up when I hear Brendan yell out, “Blasphemy! I don’t think we can be friends anymore, Alex. Soccer ain’t more fun than actual football.” Then, quieter I hear him say to Duncan, “Man, you’re lucky she’s a looker. I can’t believe she thinks football is boring. She clearly has no fucking clue—” A grunt interrupts what was probably about to turn into a rant about American football versus football, and I hear Emma yell, “Watch it!”
I can’t help the laughter bubbling out of me. I needed this—the laughter and to be surrounded by people who clearly care about me. I feel like an immense weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Whereas before it felt like a ton of bricks lay on my chest slowly suffocating me, at least now I can breathe. The anxiety isn’t gone, but I know it won’t overwhelm me at any second and propel me into a full-blown panic attack.
Before I join the others in the living room, I take a deep breath, trying to get my thoughts in order. The fear of not knowing what Niall is going to do isn’t gone—quite the contrary—but I’m done hiding. Oliver tried to teach me the confidence to believe it will all be fine, but it took Duncan coming into my life for me to start believing it. These men in the living room will fight to their last breath to keep me safe, and I believe them. Niall might be a psycho who likes to hit women, but he won’t go up against someone stronger. Deep down, he’s a coward; it’s why he ran from Oliver that night. It’s time I stop letting fear rule my life, my every action, and take my life back. I won’t let him ruin it any longer.
In the living room, the guys are discussing some kind of football statistic while Emma is clearly not listening and scrolling through her phone.
“Ready to go?” I ask, interrupting their discussion.
Emma jumped up and yells, “Fuck yes,” causing all of us to burst out laughing.
“Awww,” Brendan murmurs. “Were we boring you, my dear?”
“Why yes, you definitely were. Nothing worse than men going on and on and on about statistics on players. I found statistics boring in college, them being about sports doesn’t make them any less mind-numbing.”
I walk over and link my arm with hers. “C’mon, girl. Let’s go get a drink and talk about the players’ asses while we pretend to be interested in the game itself. Solidifying the stereotype of women across the world.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Emma says through her own laughter.
Because even though my past has come crashing back into my life, I’ve made friends who would be there for me. I’ve met people who would do everything in their power to protect me and keep me safe. They didn’t bail; they stayed and made me believe that maybe I’m worth sticking around for after all.
Today will be one of those days I’ll cherish and use to hold the darkness at bay.
They managed to make me forget what happened in the morning and I was able to enjoy the rest of the day without giving too much thought to the past. They managed to turn one of the worst days of my life into one I’ll always remember as the day Duncan and Brendan taught me all about American football—not that I’ll remember—and Emma had me in stitches laughing about how she trolled one of those social media profiles who contacted her claiming to be some kind of prince from Africa.
Chapter Twenty-One
It’s been two weeks.
Two weeks of nothing.
No messages. No flowers. Not a peep from Niall. Nothing.
It was rather anti-climactic after the shitstorm his roses caused. For two weeks—fourteen days—every one of us has been on edge, looking over our shoulders, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Only when it doesn’t, we, or at least I, have no clue how to deal with the silence. Niall has never been one to practice patience, so I’m confused by the fact that he hasn’t immediately followed up the flowers with a message or something else.
It’s driving me insane—the waiting, the anticipation, the unknown.
I’m on edge. I feel like th
e walls are closing in on me. And my nightmares are back with a vengeance. But instead of dreaming of the past, my dreams are filled with me drowning. The darkness surrounding me, choking me, while water fills my lungs. I wake up most mornings drenched in sweat and out of breath, like I’ve just run a 10K.
It’s the same over and over again.
Today hasn’t been any different, and I’ve been tense all day. A bow drawn tight and ready to snap in half.
This situation is killing me, the suspense of waiting for what’s about to happen, and I know something is about to happen, without any news, either good or bad. It’s getting to me, I can’t relax, I’m on constant alert.
And I’m about to break. I can’t take it much longer.
As soon as my last class is finished for the day and my classroom is emptied out, Duncan appears at my door. For the last two weeks, this has been the norm. I’m barely ever alone. Duncan or Brendan have been with me if I go anywhere, from the grocery store to the mailbox. I know they’re afraid something is going to happen, something bad, but I’m tired of having a babysitter and being unable to do anything by myself. I’ve always been independent, even when I was with Niall I had some measure of independence. Even if it was just going to work. But I work with Duncan now, so there is nowhere left for me to be alone. Having that taken away from me again is aggravating and slowly grating on my nerves.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Duncan calls out to me. “Ready to go home?”
With a sigh I reply, “Yep, just let me grab my stuff.” I start cleaning my desk and pack up the papers I still have to grade. I shove my phone in my jean’s back pocket, I make sure I have everything and walk toward him. Once I reach him, I burrow into his chest, needing his warmth. I’m so over worrying about Niall and the constant fear. I wish it would all just go away. “How was your day?”
“Looks like mine was better than yours. You okay?” Duncan answers folding his arms around me.
“Just tired. Antsy. I’m over this whole thing. I wish he’d just leave me the fuck alone,” I whine.
“I know, babe. Brendan is working on it, but you know he still hasn’t found a record of him entering the country. We have no clue where he is, he could still be overseas or he could be lurking somewhere here just waiting to snatch you. We have to be vigilant. You just have to be patient.”
It’s the same thing he has been repeating for the last two weeks, and suddenly the well of bottled up frustration inside of me breaks and shatters all over Duncan.
I shove away from him and comb my hands through my hair. I’m frustrated, irritated, and angry at the whole situation. I’m terrified of what will happen to my friends who are sticking out their necks for me. And he just doesn’t get my frustration with this whole thing. He doesn’t know what it feels like to constantly look over your shoulder, terrified of everything, being restricted in your daily life like this. “I know, but I’m just so sick of being cooped up all the fucking time. I haven’t had a minute to myself ever since this whole nightmare started.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “Well excuse me if we take your safety seriously and don’t take fucking chances for him to get to you.” His voice is showing his own frustration.
I guess the situation is getting to him more than I noticed. But I don’t care, not about them being afraid for my safety or that all of them just want to keep me safe, not while the tidal wave of frustration is consuming me.
“You don’t understand.” I throw up my hands and turn away. “I have no space to breathe! I can’t breathe being watched constantly. Having to be conscious of every step I take, every move. I moved here to get away from that.” I say all of this before I think, and when I turn around at his sharp inhale, I see the hurt swimming in his eyes. That’s when I realize what I said and how it sounded, even though it’s not what I meant.
“Is that what you think I’m doing?” The hurt for my unwarranted accusation is filling his voice, his arms fall to his sides and his shoulders drop. My stupid comment has definitely hit its mark. I feel the remorse filling me, the disgust at myself. All they are trying to do is keep me safe. Before I can say anything, he keeps going, “That we’re smothering you? Controlling your every move because we enjoy it?” His voice is quiet and rough with hurt. “I’m nothing like him, Alex.”
The hurt filling his words flays me, ripping me wide open. My words were said in careless frustration, but I certainly didn’t mean them the way he took them. Yet, before I can fix my mistakes, he keeps going. “After everything that happened, you still don’t trust me, do you? Not enough to lean on me through all of this.” Sadness clouds his features, the hurt palpable. “You can’t breathe? I’ll give you some space. I get it, spending practically twenty-four seven on top of one another is a lot, combined with this whole shitstorm maybe too much. I just wish you’d trust me.” He sighs, the disappointment and hurt clearly audible.
I’ve always expected it to be me who’ll have her heart broken, but this time I’m the one doing the hurting. He’s shutting me out, all because I didn’t think before I opened my big mouth. I mean, I do feel like I can’t breathe, but not because of him.
Never because of him.
He’s the one thing keeping me sane.
And I took my frustration out on the one person who’s trying to protect me, who’s been there for me through all of this. But… maybe this is a good thing. For a second, I feel relief. If he’s not near me, he’ll be safe.
Even though I want to keep him safe, I can’t let him leave like this. I need to fix it. I can’t lose him, not now, not ever.
I take one step toward him and lift my hand, trying to touch him, but he takes a step back. The look of disappointment blazing in his eyes kills me; it’s like someone is pouring salt on each open wound I inflicted myself.
“Duncan, I—” I try but his sad voice interrupts me.
“I’ll call Brendan to come get you and drive you home. He’ll stay with you. Please, don’t leave until he’s here.” And with that, he turns away from me and leaves without another word.
No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening.
But again, before I can get my frozen to body move, he walks out the door without another word or backward glance.
I’m frozen to the spot, unable to move an inch, too busy trying to lock my knees to prevent my body from crashing to the door. The self-inflicted pain of what just happened is excruciating. It’s ripping my insides to shreds, leaving me bloody, and I did it to myself.
I hurt him, the one person I care about more than anyone else.
I can’t believe he thinks I compared him to Niall; he’s the furthest thing from that psychopath as humanly possible. I know this. I have to grip the desk next to me to keep myself from falling. The pain radiating through my body is excruciating. I can’t believe I said what I did. I did this to myself. He has a right to be upset, it was cruel and unnecessary, but it doesn’t matter that I didn’t mean it.
It’s not until I hear a door slam in the distance and my torso jerks back at the sound that I’m shaken out of my stupor.
My mind clears, shoving the darkness engulfing it away far enough to realize what just happened. What I let just happen.
He might have been the one to walk away from me, but I didn’t do anything to stop him. I just stood there mute and watched the man I’m in love with walk away from me—and yes, I’m finally honest with myself, I love Duncan. And I didn’t fight for him. If the last two minutes taught me anything, it’s that I can’t give up, not without a fight. I can’t just let him walk away. Losing him would hurt too much. If the pain of my heart breaking is anything to go by, I can’t live without him.
I need to at least try to save this—us. I just hope he gives me a chance to apologize and explain—make this right. With this in mind, I run out the door and down the hall to the parking lot. I burst through the door out of breath. I look around the lot in a frenzy, trying to locate his car. Getting more and more anxious because I can’t find hi
m, I look toward the exit, only to catch the taillights of his car turn the corner.
“No!” I shout, but it’s too late. I’m too late; he’s gone. And the pain comes crashing back, but this time, my knees give out and I smash painfully onto the concrete. I don’t notice the figure creeping up on me from the side of the school. Too late I realize I left the secure building alone and unprotected.
“Duncan,” is the last thing I whisper before stars explode behind my eyes and my world goes black.
The last thing I hear is an eerily familiar, “Miss me, bitch?”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I jerk back to consciousness.
Light is flooding my sight, blinding me. My head is aching, the pulse behind my eyes pounding. I blink, trying to orient myself. My vision is blurry, but I instinctively know I’m not home or at Duncan’s.
Where the hell am I?
I lift my hand, trying to rub my aching temples when I hear a clinking and my hand painfully jerks to a stop. Slowly, trying not to jolt my throbbing head too much, I look down at my hand. Handcuffs are shackling me to a metal chair.
What in the fuck is going on?
My aching head can’t comprehend how I happened to be chained to a chair. The last thing I remember is chasing after Duncan to the parking lot only to see him drive off and then… nothing.
Fuck, Duncan… I can’t believe I just let him leave like that without an apology. And now I’ll never be able to tell him how sorry I am. I know how these things end—I’ve seen enough movies—I’m deader than a doornail.