by Kira Barker
Of course, every single thing Ray had said to me was droning through my mind again. Was this already what he had warned me about? Darren’s actions rubbed me the wrong way, but they weren’t a complete deal-breaker to me yet, provided he could explain them and proved that he was ready to take a step or ten back and leave me my personal freedom. Other women might not be so lenient. Then again, what else had he been up to that I hadn’t realized yet? Already I felt like my heart was seizing up, and I had a feeling that things were only just beginning to get worse.
I still hadn’t made up my mind about what to do when I got home. Part of me wanted to call it “his house” again, but while I’d resented on some level how I’d come to live here, I liked the house. Meeting James was not something I was looking forward to now, but then chances were good that I’d have to actively track him down if I wanted anything rather than him approaching me, so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
As I sat in the car waiting for the gate to open, I looked over the sprawling grounds around the mansion. Sure, there were bigger houses in the neighborhood, and the design was a little too bland and simple for me, but that could easily be changed with some minor improvements. I could see myself living here for the rest of my life, happy and content even though it was a cage in many ways. Maybe I just needed to find another job, one that got me out of the house regularly.
Or maybe I should just break up with Darren, face the music, and weather out the storm raging inside my heart and mind.
Either way, just sitting in the car, staring at the green grass had never accomplished anything.
I parked the car in its usual spot, then hesitated at the stairs leading up. Once again my gaze was pulled to that door at the other end of the room. It was now the only part of the house I hadn’t been in—not a huge deal if it was really just a maintenance room, but still. If it was to be my home now, shouldn’t I know where the breakers were?
Whipping around with sudden determination, I strolled over to the door and tried it.
Locked.
And just like that, my momentary will to fight deflated again. With all my other problems stacking up, the maintenance room really shouldn’t have been on top of that list. Shaking my head at myself, I returned to the stairs, then walked up to the bedroom to change into more comfortable clothes.
Only hours ago, the idea that I’d have the entire afternoon to myself until Darren came home for our talk had been killing me. Now I was kind of happy to have some more time to clear my head.
That, and maybe find a few clues about what else was going on.
I started in the bedroom, but that was a complete waste of time. Unless there was a secret door in the panel behind where his suits were hanging in the closet, I knew every single nook and cranny of that room. And yes, I checked the back of the closet, just to be sure.
Next was the library. I called it a library, but Darren mostly used it as his office. He’d given me the password for his computer, and snooping around only revealed a heap of work-related files I maybe shouldn’t have had access to, and his rather uneventful browser history. The man wasn’t even watching any kind of weird porn, just run-of-the-mill stuff that was mostly tamer than what we’d gotten up to. Then again, what had I expected? A monthly subscription to “I-wank-to-tracking-my-girlfriend-everywhere.com”?
I started rifling through some papers, then went on to pulling random books from the shelves until I noticed something else that should have stood out to me before. There were no personal items anywhere. No photos, no random memorabilia like a stone he’d taken from his favorite childhood vacation or a small gift someone had given him for a birthday. Now that I realized that, I quickly went through the upper level in search of anything—and came up blank. I had never realized that something was missing because the house didn’t feel empty to me. There were books and art and carpets, a vase or two, and other utilitarian items stored everywhere. But suddenly the entire house looked like a realtor’s dream come true—completely furnished, but it could have been anyone’s house, really. I wasn’t a hoarder by a long shot, but even I had accumulated two boxes full of stuff that I’d likely never need again or that hadn’t had any use to begin with but that I’d been hesitant to throw away. Of course, now none of that was in sight because that had all disappeared into that ominous storage facility.
Where was that damn butler when I needed him?
After ten minutes of looking everywhere, I made a wrong turn and almost collided with James, pretty much confirming my suspicion that he’d actually been trailing me in his attempt to remain hidden. As usual, his face was impassive, and I only let my eyes flicker down to his knuckles for a second. If he’d really been the one to mess Adam up like that, shouldn’t there be some scrapes or bruises? But no, his suddenly very large seeming hands looked as unremarkable as always.
“Do you need something?” he asked, likely grumpy that I’d crossed his evasion plans.
“I need something from storage. From one of my boxes,” I explained. If this really was a joint storage facility, there should be boxes holding Darren’s stuff, too, right now my best guess for finding anything. If there was even anything to be found, which I was slowly but surely starting to doubt.
“I’m afraid that is impossible at the moment,” he informed me, not even bothering to gloat. The words already said it all.
“Why is that impossible? Just give me the keys or number combination or whatever, and I’ll drive myself over.” The address would have been nice, too, but I thought I could cobble it together from memory if I had to.
“I cannot do that.”
“And why not?” I asked, my annoyance rising quickly. If he told me next that he didn’t have them, I was going to scream.
“Because Mr. Hunter has told me expressly that only he is to have access to the storage facility.”
Now there was some minimal gloating, but I did my best to ignore it.
“Seriously? You keep my stuff in there, too, and now I’m, what, not allowed to get it?”
“A very apt observation, if I may say so,” he agreed.
I’d never wanted to slap someone so badly, but quenched that impulse as soon as it surfaced. Even if James hadn’t made minced meat out of Adam’s face, I was well aware that he could just pick me up and lock me in the hallway closet, and there was no reason to tempt him.
“Thank you. For nothing, really,” I grumbled, already turning away.
“A pleasure as always,” he called after me, now showing teeth but not in what any sane person could have interpreted as a smile.
With nothing else to do, I spent the rest of the afternoon pacing through the house. I’d planned to eat lunch with Darren, then with Adam, but both options hadn’t exactly worked out. Now I was too upset to even think about food, nixing another activity that might have occupied me for a minute or two.
The more time I had on my hands, the more jumpy I got. I sat down and started scrolling through my phone, trying to sift through the few personal messages I’d written over the past months. The number I came up with was depressingly small. Someone from high school had married, a misguided acquaintance from college had sent me vacation pics of her and her brood of children, but that was about it. The odd “Hi, how are you?” and “We have to meet for drinks again!” from a couple of Brigitte’s girls, but I hadn’t even replied to all of them. So much had changed in my life, but in the end, only Brigitte, Adam, and Darren knew about most of that, with Darren being the only one privy to everything.
Seven came and went, as did eight. The sun set in a glorious riot of color, but I couldn’t really appreciate it, although I retreated to the deck to observe. The spot also gave me a good view of the driveway.
Finally, long after I’d started to shiver out in the cool evening air, a car pulled up to the gate, then crawled up the driveway at snail speed. One of the sleek, black limousines, so I figured it was Darren. Not wanting him to see me fretting over his return, I went back inside and sat
down in the library, my fingers digging into the leather of my armchair.
It took him fucking forever to find me, wearing down my nerves to thin threads. He’d taken off his jacket and was just unknotting his tie, tearing it off with a jerky motion as he stopped, looking at me. Swallowing thickly, I did my best to straighten my back and keep my legs perfectly crossed. If I was going into this fight, I would do it with all my weapons cocked and loaded.
“James told me you wanted something from storage?” he asked first. No greeting, no comment about how I looked, how my day had been—straight to business.
“I’m surprised you needed to ask him about that to know,” I replied haughtily. No more pulling punches, no holding back.
Darren moved his jaw to the side in what I’d come to think of as his momentary thinking pause gesture, then he cocked his head to the side.
“Last time I looked, I couldn’t read your mind, and your actions have become quite erratic of late. So excuse me if I can’t just anticipate your every whim.”
“No, of course not, but considering you bugged my phone, I thought you’d already know.”
I pressed those words out with a smile, sure that it wasn’t reaching my eyes.
Darren didn’t react, and the lack of guilt made my stomach sink.
“I presume your tech monkey told you that?”
“So you aren’t even denying it?” I hissed, coming to my feet. My heels put me at a few inches below eye level with him, but I didn’t need physical height to try to stare someone down.
“Didn’t say that,” he replied, his voice still even, if slightly condescending now. “But considering that he told me he would do anything in his power to make sure that you wouldn’t end up with me, it wasn’t just a lucky guess.”
My thoughts ground to a halt, but I forced myself to keep going.
“And when did he supposedly tell you that? The day you sent James over to kick the living shit out of him?”
Again no reaction from him.
“He told me that day you happened upon us in the hallway, right before our weekend in New York. Not that I fault him for his misguided attempts to turn your head around. If I’d been in love with a woman for years and then missed my chance to land with her, I’d hold a grudge against the guy who wasn’t so stupid in the first place.”
That didn’t exactly throw me for a loop, but it was still news to me.
“What do you mean?”
Darren allowed himself a small but not very nice smile.
“That he’s in love with you? I didn’t think I’d have to explain the mechanics of that to you. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize it, but kudos to your instinctual habit of ignoring everything that could complicate anything for you. That must have served as a survival skill for you for a long, long time.”
Licking my lips, I tried not to show that he’d landed a blow with that, but really, it was of no consequence.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” I pointed out.
“You didn’t ask one,” he shot back. “I have no idea what has gotten into you, but the entire day now you’ve been unreasonably irritated, and while I have no objections to helping you let off some steam, I will not let you go on verbally abusing me.”
“I am abusing you?” I said, taken aback by the nonsense of that accusation. “I’m not the one who stalks people and messes up their friends. Who constantly tears down their self-confidence and feeds them your bullshit expectations of how they should react. I may have been stupid enough to let you do that to me until now, but this stops, right here.”
A muscle in his cheek jumped, but he still kept his posture relatively relaxed.
“What do you want me to say, Penelope? That it pains me when you go off on a tangent again about how mean the world is and how you can’t win? That I should let you whine and bemoan your fate when really, you’re the only one responsible for it and I’m giving you all means possible to turn the tide around?”
At his words, I felt doubt crawl up my spine, but I forced myself to ignore that. It had taken me way too long to realize how he was manipulating me, all the damn time, and I wouldn’t give him the power anymore to go on.
“Did you bug my phone? And my tablet? Just answer the question, Darren.”
He took an awfully long time, but eventually, he inclined his head.
“Yes, I did.”
No excuse, no explanation, no nothing. Narrowing my eyes at him, I crossed my arms over my stomach, trying hard not to make it look as if I was hugging myself, although that was exactly what it was.
“Care to explain why?”
“Isn’t that obvious?” he replied.
“I’m trying to give you a chance here to justify your actions. Unless you want me to jump to conclusions, you better wise up.”
That clearly didn’t sit well with him, but his voice was still measured as he responded. I hated that he had such control over his emotions while I was hard-pressed not to start screaming hysterically any moment.
“I have enemies, and by associating with you, I’ve made you a target. You also didn’t exactly have the safest profession in the world, so I thought it prudent to give myself the means to protect you, should you need protection.”
“How does spying on me protect me?” I asked.
“I wasn’t spying on you. I just wanted the option of tracking you down more easily should the need for that arise. I could have easily used the information of where you were when to deduce who you were seeing and use that against them, but I didn’t. I respect your clients’ privacy.”
“Just not mine,” I ground out, then took a deep breath to calm myself. “Why not tell me?”
“Because you would have flipped out and called me a controlling asshole?” he offered, showing considerable self-assessment.
“Which you are,” I pointed out. He said nothing, just kept on looking at me in that stoic way of his that was driving me insane.
“Is that all? Because if yes, I’ll go downstairs to eat something. I’m starving,” he said, already turning to go.
“I’m so not done with you yet, Darren,” I hissed, making him stop in his tracks. I thought I saw a look of relief cross his face, but that had to be my imagination playing tricks on me. Why would he want to continue to fight if he’d so far been avoiding it and just tried to get out?
“What else? Do I snore too loudly at night? Are you still mad at me because you think I pushed you into your new, terribly boring life?”
“Your sarcasm doesn’t do you justice,” I informed him, then sat back down in my chair. He remained standing but took a few steps into the room until he could lean against his desk.
“And you’re insufferable when you’re acting like a heinous bitch,” he replied when I took another moment to sort out my thoughts.
Pain squeezed my heart, but I forced myself to ignore that, too.
“If I’m that much of a pain in the ass, maybe we should just call it quits? I can’t quite shake the feeling that until I moved in with you, you regarded me as your shiny new toy, and now I’m just a boring nuisance.”
I hated using Ray’s words there, but they fit too perfectly not to fall back to them.
Darren blinked, a sure sign of irritation, but he was suddenly very cautious in picking his answer.
“I never said that I don’t want you with me anymore, and I never did anything to indicate that. I tried—repeatedly—to encourage you to make this your home, and to start reintegrating yourself into society. You are the one who keeps shying away from everything, and then you complain that nothing works as you want it to.”
“I’m not—“
“You are!” he shouted, making me shrink back more with surprise than actual fright. “The same as you pushed Brigitte and Adam away, and now I’m next? You are the problem, Penelope, not the rest of the world!”
That accusation left me stunned speechless, and when my voice finally started working again, it was scratchy and pressed.
&nb
sp; “I pushed them away for you. You made me decide between my friends, my life, my job on the one side, and you on the other. And I chose you.”
“I never forced you to take that step,” he replied, looking a little harried himself now.
“But you reinforced my conviction, and you fucking rewarded me for it! Or why else did you take me to New York or Paris? All of those grand gestures to make me feel important and loved. Don’t you dare claim you didn’t make damn sure that I knew exactly what decisions to make when the time for them arrived.”
He stared at me for several seconds straight, his fingers digging into the edge of the desk.
“I thought you loved me. That’s why you wanted to be with me. Not because you felt pressed into it,” he ground out.
“But I do love you!” I cried, frustration, anger, and pain making it almost impossible for me to think straight. “And that’s the problem! I love you! Weird shit keeps happening left and right and I should probably have run weeks ago or never even considered starting a relationship with you, but I just can’t help myself! Even knowing what you did, what you continue to do to me, I just can’t stop loving you! But that’s just not enough anymore.”
It had probably never been, but I’d been too naive, too lost in my own fantasies to see that. Our love had been hot and crazy, and now it was fizzling out. Crash and burn.
The world seemed to spin around me as I got up, and the sick feeling in my stomach was strong enough to make me want to puke. How had I not seen this coming? It had been right there in front of my eyes the entire time. Brigitte had been so right. He’d been the perfect man for me—as a client. We could have likely kept that going forever, indefinitely. But I’d been stupid enough to lose my head, and he was clearly not equipped to handle the mess that had resulted from that. I really didn’t want to, but I knew that the only thing left for me was… to go.
“Goodbye, Darren,” I whispered, then turned around, taking a first, slow step toward the door.