And just like that he turns and walks away, and I'm left with an old man holding a door for me, and the promise of a fun ride back to reality. "Okay, John," I say as I get into the open door, "this had better be the best ride ever to have interrupted that."
Chapter 9
Home sweet home. Driver John was a bit of a letdown, but I guess I built him up in my mind a little bit unfairly. Even though he's never been this way with me, I can see how a girl can get swept up in the fantasy of Kane Marsden. He's tall, handsome, and uses his money in that casual way that only very rich people can. I don't care about his money at all, and he's never tried to play it up to me, but if I were a different type of girl I could go full Pretty Woman in my head...minus the hooker part, anyhow.
I'm thinking back on how open he was with me before; the things he said, the things he almost said, and all the things that I didn't say. I start to feel guilty, even though it wasn't like that at all. I know I'm being stupid about it all, but my first impulse when we were talking was to hold things back. There's actually been a lot going on with me, at least emotionally, and the entire time we were speaking I wanted him to be open with me without my reciprocation.
What's wrong with me? Why do I need him to be vulnerable while I have no intension of being the same with him, at least not yet? For starters I don't really know him that well, but I still let him kiss me. I'm so confused! My head is spinning when I think about all that's happened with Kane, and everything else that I'm thinking about.
John dropped me off at home like he was told to, but that's not where I am anymore. I didn't feel like driving anymore, I've had enough wind-blown hair for one day. But it's early enough that a long walk with Jordan is just what I need to soothe my soul. Jordan's game to go anywhere I lead; she's such a good girl, and her company is so completely comforting to me that I realize why everyone has dogs. As we walk I can see the freaked out looks on people's faces as we pass; her black and brown mouth handing open to let her tongue wag in the breeze; stopping to pee here and there, or to sniff in the direction of scared passers-by. With the looks I'm getting you'd think I was walking a tiger with a blood-soaked mouth around town. People can be so ignorant.
I have no destination in mind, but my feet carry me where I always want to go. It's a strange location for anyone who knows me, but then again it isn't strange at all really. My friends don't know this side of me, but that's completely my fault. What they don't know about me seems greater and greater the more I think about it. I'm not secretive, and I want Kevin and Mia to know me as well as anyone knows me, but there are parts of me I've learned to keep hidden away; even when it comes to good things like this. If my friends saw me here, heeling a 100 pound Rottweiler while standing in front of a community college they'd laugh at both, but the truth is I've always wanted to school.
With a strung out, mentally ill mother raising me I barely made it out of high school with a diploma. My guidance counselor gave me all the college brochures and the speeches about 'doing something with my life', but it mostly fell on deaf ears. Surviving those four years without losing my mind or ending up like Mom was my only goal, and I never saw past it. To seventeen year old me, surviving was winning, and I managed to get through all the homework and tests and shitty teen relationships with my sanity intact, and the last thing on my to-do list at the time was enrolling in more science and math classes.
What I really want to do is write. Silly, I realize, but it's something I've always done when I'm sad. I write in a journal, or on my phone, or terrible little poems that make me feel better, even if they're total garbage. I've always wanted to take writing classes to learn for real, but I never have the time or money. Well, I never have the money, anyway. So instead of sitting in a classroom or eating in the cafeteria I just walk past the school whenever I'm out. I pass it all the time and when I take long walks I come here like I belong. Sometimes, if it's nice out, I'll sit on the bench and write a little something, or just take in the energy of young kids moving around with overpriced books in their hands. I love being here more than anything, and no one in the world except my new baby knows it. She likes it too. There's no shortage of squirrels and other little creatures running around for her think about going after.
I'm not a person who regrets much. There are a lot of things I'd do differently if I could do them again, but I've never really regretted much of my life. But as I stand here watching these kids walk around going to class, I wish I had at least taken a few courses here or there. Maybe I still can one day; I can't be a just serve people waffles and coffee for the rest of my life. While I'm lost in thought Jordan starts pulling on the leash a little, and a group of girls walking by me jump to the side like they're avoiding a lion attack. I kind of like that people are afraid of her, even though she's about the most harmless creature in the world as far as I can tell. She's just misunderstood. I guess we both are.
Since I can't stand around link a weirdo staring at college kids all afternoon, I decide to continue our walk. I tug at Jordan's leash, distracting her from the two squirrels running up the tree in front of us. By the time we get back to my place it'll almost be time for dinner. Maybe I'll text Kevin and see if he's busy.
Dacia: food?
Kevin: can't tonight, I'm supposed to take Margot out to dinner.
Dacia: that's fine, take her out to dinner at my place. We can get Chinese and she can bond with Jordan.
Kevin: she hates Chinese
Of course she does, I think to myself. I've never met Margot, but I already have a bad idea of who she is based on the things Kevin's told me.
Dacia: whatever, I don't care what we eat, just want some company. Get your girl and come over, okay?
Kevin: let me see what I can do.
While I wait for him to contact his crazy girlfriend, Jordan and I start the walk back to my place. We walk for about five minutes before I hear the ding in my pocket and reach for my phone. Jesus, Kevin, keep me waiting why don't you...
When I look down I don't see Kevin's contact name in my screen, I see another strange number like I did when Kane texted me, only this time it isn't Kane. My eyes and my mind don't process what I'm seeing, and without even realizing I just drop my phone on the ground and stand in total stillness. My heart is racing a mile a minute, and some nice older man in front of me comes over and picks up my phone for me. At first I don't even react, I just leave him hanging with his nice old man arm extended in my direction holding my phone. "Excuse me, Miss, you dropped this." He says in a soft tone that would normally calm me down, but right now there'll be no calming down. "Miss," he repeats, "are you alright?" I'm not alright at all, but I'm aware enough to at least snap out of my catatonia and take back my phone.
"I'm so sorry, sir, thank you, I'm fine." I try to smile but my face won't cooperate at all, and I just stand there making what must be the strangest combination of fake smile and terrified grimace. The old man is nice enough to accept my obvious lie without prying any further, so I just take my phone back and thank him one more time.
It takes all of my mental strength, but I finally look down at my phone while holding Jordan's leash in the other hand while she sits heeled at my trembling side. I see that Kevin texted me back, finally, but the phone must have been on the ground when it went off. I click on Kevin's text, ignoring the other message for a minute.
Kevin: sorry - no sale. She says we're supposed to have dinner with one of her friends. Next time. I'm sorry.
I read over it without any emotion, I know what other words are waiting for me when I click on my last message. It's crazy how fast things can change. About 60 seconds ago I was walking my dog, fantasizing about going to college one day, and trying to convince my friend to bring his crazy girlfriend over for Chinese. But right now all I can feel is the kind of fear that makes you freeze in place, and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
I force myself to look at the screen, and to click on the message that made me drop the phone to begin with.
But this time I'm ready; at least as ready as I can be. It's from...him, and I read the words over and over again until my mind allows me to process their implications.
"I'm back. And I'll be seeing you soon enough."
I can't believe he's out, and I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'm so freaked out that I can't think of anything else to do but call Mia. Not a text, not a honeymoon email, but a real call to my best friend. I know she's coming home in a few days, and I know that it might be 3 am in whatever exotic part of the world she may be in right now, but I don't care about any of that, I only know that I have to hear my best friends voice. But then something inside takes control of me, like my body's possessed, and instead of opening my contact to Mia, I open it up and dial a different number. When I hear the deep, exhausted-sounding "Hey?" on the other end of the phone
"Kane," I say quickly, and I can hear the controlled panic in my voice, it's Dacia. Look I can't explain or get into it right now but I need to see you. Can you..." and before I'm even finished; before even having any context to what I'm talking about, he answers back,
"Give me twenty minutes and I'll be over. I'll bring coffee, don't worry." He hangs up before I can respond, but I notice that my hearts slowed to a more normal pace, and I'm kind of amazed by what just happened. As soon as I get off of the phone my body comes back to me, and I start to move freely. Jordan pulls me a little and I realize that I have to keep walking home, only this time I shut my phone off until I get there, I know Kane will be coming - with coffee, yay! And I don't need any more texts like the one I just got. I need to get home. C'mon Jordan, lead the way.
Chapter 10
I'm not home ten minutes before I hear the knock on my door. My first impulse is fear, but then I quickly remind myself who's at the door. Jordan's head pops up from the flood as she hears the knock, her ears shooting strait up like they're capturing information from the air around her. She doesn't get up, and she doesn't make a sound, which keeps me calm also.
I open the front door and see Kane there, filling up the breadth of my doorway with his frame, a hot coffee in each hand, and wearing the same clothes I left him in earlier at lunch. He looks tired, his shoulders are a little slouched and his eyelids are screaming to be closed, but his eyes never waver from mine, and they burn with an awake intensity that defines how the rest of his body looks. "Delivery." He says, which makes me smile even though it's a strain.
"It's just what I ordered, thank you." He hands me the coffee in his right hand and follows me inside. We both plop down on the couch and take a deep breath, like our lungs are trying to release all the stress of our days. His sigh is much deeper than mine. "Long day at the office?" I ask.
"They're all long days," he says, "I mean, really, what's the point of owning a company and having money if you have to work so damn hard? I should be on a beach like Wesley is right now, sipping some sort of fruit inspired drink and thinking about something expensive to buy."
"Who knows if he's even on a beach," I answer, "for all you know he's on camel back somewhere in North Africa right now."
"Knowing the lengths he's go to to make Mia happy it's not that far-fetched. But I spoke to him earlier, and he actually was on a beach." He smiles, and it lightens my mood. He tells me about his day at the company, which I'm totally listening to, but as he's speaking I'm also reflecting. I'm thinking about how the sound of his voice and the little things he does actually calm me down and keep me that way. About a half hour ago I was shaking with anxiety and dropping my phone on the ground, and now I'm sipping coffee on my couch with this beautiful man. But he still doesn't know what's going on. He finishes his story, which I'm mostly paying attention to, and then he shifts his attention entirely to me.
"So what's going on?" He asks. "You sounded a little worried on the phone, which is why I rushed over here. Come to think of it I probably left some very sensitive materials open on my desk, actually, but I'll get to them tomorrow. Are you okay?"
Here it is, the moment I've been dreading for almost...has it been five years already? I guess time flies when you're living in fear. I never thought I'd be sitting on my couch and talking about this - to Kane of all guys- but, like I said, feelings and situations can change on a dime sometimes. And strangely, I don't feel as weird about what I'm gong to say as I think. I just don't know how to start. "Yeah, I'm fine," I say awkwardly, and it's mostly the truth, but only insomuch as I let myself forget the terrible things that happened to me. But I can't pretend anymore, it isn't fair. After all, I'm the one who called Kane in a panic, I need to at least explain what's going on. But Kane doesn't before I can even get the first syllable out.
"I meant it when I said you were a terrible liar. Now tell me what's wrong." He isn't demanding, and he isn't dominant, he's just really concerned about me in a way that's so obviously genuine that I'm touched in a way I never thought I'd be with him.
"There was this guy," I begin. I'm already shaking inside even starting the story, but I know that I have to keep going. "His name was...his name is Derrick."
"Okay," Kane says in a soft way that meant to keep me talking, "so tell me about this Derrick."
"I don't want to tell you about him. To tell you the truth I never wanted to think about him ever again, but I have no choice now. Now I have to remember; whether I want to or not." I'm lost in thought already, even though I've only just started telling him the terrible story that's about to follow, but even when I'm upset I can still see him seeing me; his eyes so intensely looking at me, and a concern on his face that's unmistakable.
"Tell me." Is all he says, and I do.
I tell him about the night I met my ex-boyfriend, Derrick, a little over...God, has it been five years already! I tell him about how, ironically, i was the one who approached him because I thought he was hot, and I noticed him looking at me across the dance floor of the club. I tell Kane how nice Derrick was to me: how sweet, how attentive, how unusually understanding he was of all of my many, many issues. And how it was all just an act.
"Wolves in sheep's clothing, you know?"
"I know a thing or two about that, yes," he answers, clearly wanting to hear more of the story. "And what did this particular wolf do?" I can sense the anger in his question; not at me, but at the potential of any bad thing that I might say happened to me next. It's something I notice guys do - at least the good ones - when they think another guy has wronged a woman in their life. I can see the tension in his face, but for the time being he's doing his best to hold back and just listen to me, so I go on.
"So Derrick and I went out for about a month before things got weird, and looking back now I guess that I ignored some things that I should have paid attention to about how he was with me."
"Like what?"
"Like, he made little issue when I wanted to see Mia and Kevin, or even the few times I wanted to try and reach out to my Mom - he would always tell me that I didn't need them, or that they were bad for me, and that he was the only one who could give me what I needed." It sounds so crazy and...what's the word my therapist used to use...codependent. Even as I say the words I somehow hate five-years-ago-me; that Dacia was weak and she was a victim, and telling this story doesn't even feel like I'm really talking about myself. It feels like I'm telling a story about some dumb girl that I used to know.
M"Go on," Kane says, and so I do.
"Well at about a month into dating him all of those little comments and issues I mentioned became huge fights. Once he felt like we were in a relationship he kind of claimed me in a way - he went from suggesting that spend less time with my friends to demanding that I spend less time with them. He used to tell me that I was his, and that no one had the right to have something that was his without his permission. It got...it got bad."
"Did he ever get violent or aggressive with you?" He asks softly.
"I'm getting there." This is the part I've been dreading. The first part of the story is hard enough to get out, but the last part is even worse, but I've come
this far with it, I may as well finish the sorry so that he understands what I'm dealing with. "So after it became obvious to me that he was a complete psycho I broke it off, and that's when things got really bad."
"Bad how?"
"He started stalking me, and I don't mean that figuratively, either. He'd show up at whatever job I had at the time, he would send me messages on social media, text me from different phones each time I would block his number, and always found a way to harass me without actually breaking the law."
"So what did you do?"
"I blocked him on social media and on my phone, but when he persisted I had to delete my profiles on different sites and then change my cell number. But even that didn't work. The mistake I made was in thinking that he was just kind of obsessive and clingy, but that once he saw I really didn't want him that he'd move on to the next girl, or whatever. But as I found out later on, that's not how actual stalkers operate. They never give up, they just stalk their prey like an animal until...something bad happens."
"So how did it all end, then?"
Here we go. "After I did everything I could to keep him away he started getting desperate, and he'd send me things in the mail, or slip notes under my door for me to find since he knew where I lived. He even came to my job pretending to be my boyfriend and left a note for me with my boss with his number in it. And when I ignored all of that and filed a police report things got very dark."
Dark. That's a good word for it. Dark is what I remember the most. Dark is what I woke up from in that big, cold hospital bed, and I still remember how much the light hurt my eyes - the eyes I could barely open because of the swelling. I finish my story as best I can, I'm not even sure if I'm using the right words to make Kane understand, but as I speak I can see the story in my mind like a movie - the parts I can remember.
The last memory I have before waking up was seeing him there, in the alley outside of my job when I agreed to work the late. It's perfect that my boss called it the graveyard shift, because that's where I would have ended up if that couple hadn't walked by the alley as it was happening. Derrick found me at work - not that that was a hard thing to do, but I really didn't think that he would go that far in the way that he did. He waited and he watched for me to come out alone, and that's the last thing I remember: him standing there in a dark hoodie, with a look on his face that I could read even in the darkness of the alley, and an object in his hand the cops later told me was a pipe. I don't remember what happened next, only that I woke up days later, with doctors and detectives standing over me, asking me if I knew my name, and later asking me if I knew who might have done this.
Impressions of Me (Impressions Series Book 2) Page 8