by Kate Dunbar
“Play what game? It’s important to be cautious when you’re a girl living by yourself. And I’m not the one standing on the wrong side of the entrance.”
Trevor sighs through the wood and I hear the crinkle of paper. “Fine, what do you want me to say to prove to you it’s me, your boyfriend, Trevor.”
Boyfriend? He’s never said that before.
“I guess tell me something only you could possibly know. It’s either that or I can’t open the door.” I laugh. “Honestly, my boyfriend would want me to be safe.”
“Something only I know about you—okay, the bra you wore last night was electric blue lace. The vision of you in it has been stuck in my head all night,” Trevor growls. “Now open up.”
Game over.
“Fine.” I turn the deadbolt and step back to pull the door open. “Good morning, Trevor. What brings you by so early?” Trevor closes the door behind him looking me over. A look of disappointment flits across his face.
“Damn. Five minutes was too long.” The twinkle in his eyes tells me he’s mostly kidding. “You have way too many clothes on.”
“What’s this?” I reach for the white paper bag and little tray of coffee cups in his hands, intent on carrying them into the kitchen to find out what that delicious smell is. But he sets them onto an end table next to the sofa and heaves me to him before I can snatch the goodies away. Trevor crushes his lips against mine, gathering me into a tight embrace. After a couple of minutes, he pulls his head back enough to place his forehead on mine and gazes into my eyes.
“Donuts. Coffee. My excuse to see you this morning instead of waiting for tonight.”
“Tonight? Do we have plans? I don’t remember making those.”
“That’s because I made us reservations for dinner while standing in line at the donut shop.” He raises his eyebrows at me. “Dinner’s at 7. I got us reservations at Peppercorn Grille in the Village. I’ll pick you up at 6:30.”
“Assuming I don’t have plans that is?” I raise my eyebrows back at him.
“Do you have plans? Wouldn’t you have told me if you did?”
“I tell you everything now?” I stare at him shocked and cross my arms. When had we taken this turn? One night of smoking hot sex and he’s ready to get super serious?
“Sabra, I think we need to talk.” Trevor tugs at my arm and unwinds my hands. He laces his fingers through mine and kisses my knuckles, dragging me toward the couch.
“Are you sure you want to do this right now, Trevor?” Panic rises in my chest, bubbling from my center. I like Trevor. A lot. I’m having fun with him. I don’t want this to end because he wants to get serious and take it to the next level. We’ve been friends for four years. I don’t want a life without him in it. And that should scare the shit out of me, but it doesn’t.
“Yes, now.” He sits on the sofa and wraps me in his arms. I squirm out of his lap and pull my knees to my chest already on the defensive. “Listen, I know you don’t want anything too serious.”
Wait. What?
“You what?” I can’t keep the look of shock off my face. He nods his head at me, running his fingers through his hair. “Okay, good. Although I feel a but coming on.”
Trevor smiles at me. “I know you don’t want anything serious right now.” He grabs my hand and shifts a little closer to me. “I’m fine with that. But I want to establish a few rules with you.”
I have no words. I don’t think anyone has ever spoken to me like this before. Or about this. And I have no idea where he is going with it.
“I’m not a rules girl, Trevor.” I stroke his cheek with the tips of my fingers and grin. “I’d think you’d know that about me by now.”
“Will you listen? And maybe keeping your hands to yourself would be good.” He places my hand back on my lap and scoots to the other end of the couch, putting a foot between us. “You look delicious in those jeans and, no doubt, even better out of them. Which I’m planning on in just a minute. But first—the rules.”
I suck in a breath and hold it, not letting it go until I feel the burn in my lungs. I don’t know what to think about this. Trevor has always been sexy, but I’ve never seen this take charge side of him until last night. I’m not sure how to respond because my breathing has become a little shallow. My gut is clenching. Butterflies have taken residence, battling it out in more than just my stomach. I feel desire moving through my body. Pooling between my legs. And I’m finding it hard to think of sentences as I watch his lips form words, so I nod and stare at his mouth. The same lips that blazed paths of fire over my body last night. Licked me in all the right places. Turned my insides out.
“So, that’s rule one. What do you think?”
I shake my head and snap out of my reverie. “What?” I inch my way toward him and place my hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry. I got distracted. Tell me again.” Trevor’s jaw tightens. His eyes shift toward my hand.
“You got distracted? I’m telling you the rules to our relationship, and you got distracted? How is that even possible?”
“I started thinking about last night and your lips on me. And that made me start thinking about your lips on me again. And that made me think about your hands on me. And that made me think about everything else on me.” Trevor stares at me with his mouth hanging open.
“I swear, you never cease to surprise me, Sabra.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward his chest. After a few moments, he uses his finger to gently lift my chin and brush his lips over mine. “Screw the rules. We’ll just wing it.” I smell his minty breath as he moves down my jaw with those magical lips and across my collarbone. Trevor’s fingers grasp the edge of my shirt. All I can think about is that same breath and those same lips scorching my skin again.
I’m losing myself in his touch. His kisses. The sweet words he’s whispering into my ear. I’m lost in him. And then my phone rings, blasting through the room. Shaking us out of the moment. Trevor pulls back to look over his shoulder at the intruder.
You have got to be kidding me. How is it possible the entire world seems to be calling me this early?
I glance at the phone sitting on the coffee table beside us and realize I don’t recognize the number. “I’m sorry. I have to answer this.” Trevor grabs my hand and settles it on his lap. I can feel how much he doesn’t want me to answer it.
“Are you sure it can’t wait, Say?” He smiles his crooked grin and cocks his head to the side. “Can’t they leave a voicemail, and you call them back?”
“It could be my agent. I had that audition yesterday. I just need a second.”
“Fine. I’ll go get a donut hole.” He grins and stands. “And then I’m coming back for yours.”
“Ew, gross.” I snatch my phone and slide my finger across the screen, rolling my eyes at him as he walks into the kitchen laughing. “Hello?”
“Hello, Sabra. How are you, sis?”
EIGHT and ELEVEN
I feel him before I hear or see him. The air changes in the room, and I’m instantly awake. All the normal grogginess that comes with waking up in the middle of the night flees in a moment. I don’t move though. I can’t.
The green glow from the Barbie alarm clock my Daddy bought me for my birthday illuminates the room enough that I can see the outline of my dollhouse. I know without looking that my jeans are in the corner right where I left them when I slipped on my nightie before I went to bed and after bath time. That same nightie is bunched and twisted around me. I want to straighten it, my fingers itching to yank it down and around, but I can’t. The movement will alert him that I’m awake. Encourage him. So, I clutch my doll, Baby Sarah, to my chest tighter instead. So tight I can feel her plastic fingers making imprints on my skin. And I listen. Hard.
The click of the door, almost imperceptible, makes my breath hitch. Soft footfalls, nine of them total, make their way across the room. Each breath he takes I feel in my bones, down to my toes, as he stands over me. It’s the same thing every night. One twitch and he’ll leap. Tak
e the jump. I don’t know what he’ll do exactly each time, but the hairs standing up on the back of my neck tell me it’s not something good.
This is what my Mama has warned me about. But it’s with strangers. It’s not supposed to be someone who sleeps next door to you. Watches movies with you. Babysits you while your Mama runs to the grocery store for milk. That person should protect you. Let you braid his hair or win at cards when you play war. Beat up the boys who tease you at school.
Not this.
The fear makes me shiver. I can’t help it, and all I want to do is cry out. Scream and wail for my Daddy.
But that shiver is all he needs.
“Hey Songbird…move over.”
CHAPTER FOUR
No. No. Nooooo…NO. This can’t be happening. I yank the phone away from my ear and stare at it. Absolutely not. The air feels thin. My lungs feel like they’re about to burst.
“Sabra? What is it?” Trevor stares at me with this look on his face, like he thinks I’m crazy.
Did I say that out loud?
I hit the end button and get up, pacing from one side of my extremely small living room to the other. This is a nightmare. No. It has to be a wrong number. He’s in prison. There’s a chant happening in my head.
He’s in prison. He’s in prison. He’s in prison.
“Sabra.” I flinch as Trevor touches my arm and instinctively move away.
“Don’t touch me.” The hurt in his eyes is obvious. So deep. I might as well have slapped him. And I don’t care. “Don’t. Touch. Me.” I growl it at him.
He’s in prison. He’s in prison. He’s in prison.
“Sabra, what the hell is going on? What happened?” Trevor paces a step away and turns to look at me. “Who was that?”
“No one. A wrong number. No one at all.”
But I know it wasn’t. He’ll call back. Come back for more. He always comes back for more. Dammit. How is he coming back for more?
He’s in prison. He’s in prison.
I feel Trevor’s heat before I realize he’s next to me. “I don’t believe that. It was someone.” He grabs me by the upper arms and shifts me back against the wall. “You’re shaking and white as a sheet. What’s going on? Who the hell was that?”
I’m shaking?
He’s in prison. He’s in prison.
Wait. My mom called…
And I realize why she was calling so early. Dammit. Everything clicks into place. Tremors course through my body. I can’t control them. The chant changes in my head.
He’s out. He’s out. Oh my god, he’s out. I. Can’t. Breathe.
That’s why she was calling. To tell me something about him. To “fill me in” as she would say. The panic sets in at a rate like never before. My knees feel weak and the edges of my vision are going dark. Hands grab my arms, and the fight or flight instinct fills me. Fists go flying. Feet start kicking. Claws are out.
Hell no. I will never be in this spot again.
“Let me go.” The room spins harder and I lurch to the right. “Let me go!” But those hands hold me tight until I feel the floor jolting out from under me and I’m flying. Praying for oblivion. Praying to die.
He’s out. He’s out. He’s out.
I can’t do this again.
The smell of sunshine, fresh linens, and ocean water invade my senses. I feel toasty warm and don’t ever want to wake up from this dream. It’s bliss. And I’m safe. Warm and relaxed. Nothing can harm me. My heart is full, expanding. It might burst because what is more perfect than sunshine and lying outside on a beautiful day? What is better than feeling content like this?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I’m safe.
A sigh escapes my lips. I crack one eye open, glancing around. And realize the heat and delicious smell is not coming from the same place I thought. I’m not outside. I’m in my room on my bed and that was an awesome dream.
When I shift my head, I see Trevor pressed against my back, arms around me. The heat. This is where it’s coming from. His body is peaceful against mine, but his eyes are filled with horror. Fear. Trepidation. And everything comes flying back into my head, thoughts whirling and spinning. Screaming through me as I remember. The room lurches and my stomach flips. I already know there’s no way I’m getting to the bathroom in time.
I scramble away from Trevor and the delicious warmth of his body, and throw myself across the room, barely making it as I throw up into my trashcan. Sobs and vomit keep coming until there is no more in me. Nothing left. But it’s not just my stomach that’s empty, it’s me. I’m a shell. Hollowed out. Gutted by one phone call. Amazing how a few words can have that effect so quickly. I sound like a wild animal—moans and growls slipping out from me. Desperation and anger writhing within my gut.
The tears don’t stop when the vomit does. All I can do is lie on the floor in the fetal position and pray. I don’t even know what I’m praying for. My lips move. My body rocks. The tears stream down my face. But I’m aware of nothing until I hear footsteps making their way across the room, soft and sure. They stop in front of me and there’s nowhere to go. My back is against the wall. There’s no escaping this.
“Sabra,” Trevor pleads with me.
“No, don’t touch me.” My hands fly out as if they can protect me from him. His muscles. His power. Whatever fury is deep within him that he hasn’t chosen to show me or let go over me yet. Because I know it’s always there beneath the surface. Beneath the boyish good looks and charming smile. It’s always there. “Don’t come near me.”
“Sabra, I want to help. Let me help you. Please.” I glance at him. Trevor watches me. One hand stretches out toward me, fingers curling, beckoning me to reach out to him. Let him help he says.
I’m beyond help. No one can help me. No one ever helps me.
“No. Leave me alone.”
“I won’t leave, Sabra.” He pleads with me. “Please.”
I slide across the carpet until I’m sitting in the corner with my back against the wall and draw my knees to my chest. My eyes watch him stand there looking at me, confusion wrinkling his brow. “Trevor, I don’t need your help.” I try to steady my voice. “Get the hell out. It’s done. Just go.”
“What? No fucking way. I’m not going anywhere.” He peers at me some more, the shock clear as day with a bit of anger mixed in. And I watch confusion flicker across his features again. Briefly. Enough that my heart tugs toward him. “Tell me what in the hell is happening?” He doesn’t understand. My chin drops to my chest and my shoulders sag under the weight of this new knowledge.
He’s out.
But Trevor will never understand. No one can. I need to make him understand. And I need him to believe me. My head snaps up and I push my shoulders back, steeling myself.
“Don’t make me say things we’ll both regret, Trevor. It was fun. You were fun. And now it’s over. Get the fuck out.”
It was fun. I don’t want it to be over. He ruins everything.
My words hit Trevor. They land square in his chest, like in those cartoons when the anvil falls on the coyote’s head. The intake of breath and his hand sliding to rub right over his heart tell me I met my mark. And all I want to do is sink against the wall further. Let oblivion take me under and into the darkness again.
He can’t know. I need him out. He can’t know.
But Trevor isn’t moving. He’s standing there gaping at me, deciding whether to take me seriously or not. And I know I must put the final nail in the coffin. I need him out and the only way he’s going is if I convince him I’m okay—better than I was at least—and I mean what I say.
I throw my weight against the wall so I can push up and rise to my feet. Square my shoulders and look him dead in the eye.
“Last night was fun, Trevor, but that’s all it was. I don’t do commitment. You know that. I do fun. And now the fun is over, and so are we. Please leave.”
Why did that cut me to the core?
“Sabra.” Two steps. That�
��s all he takes. Two slow and deliberate steps in my direction. And anger fills me.
He’s not listening. No one ever listens to me.
“No.” My voice gets louder. “A great, fantastic girl will keep you happy someday. But I’m not her. I wish I could be, but I’m not.” Trevor opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “Thank you for the past month, but please, don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Don’t make a fool of yourself over me. I’m not worth it.” He stands there gawking at me in shock, one hand reaching for me again.
“Just leave. Go,” I demand.
It takes all my strength to get the words out. I lean against the wall to hold myself up because all I want to do is crawl into a hole and have people throw dirt on top of me. Let me breathe in the richness of the soil. Breathe it in until it takes my last breath. Because that would be nothing different than every other day of my life except I feel that way and get to watch the world go by. People living their lives with joy while I suffocate on the truths and secrets I harbor alone.
Trevor steps backward toward the door without turning around or breaking eye contact. Nine steps in all. I count them. I always count the steps.
And of course, there are nine. It’s always nine steps that break me. Over and over.
“This isn’t fucking done, Sabra. I’m going now, but I’ll be back.” He watches me for a long time. Waits for me to change my mind. But I can’t. I can’t let him get close to me ever again. I gambled too much in the past month already by letting my heart get involved. It can’t happen again. He means too much to me to risk. I need to let him go. Set him free from me and the inevitable heartbreak.
“Sabra…” His words stall as his other hand extends toward me, joining the first in a last and final plea. I harden my features and stare him in the eye. Give a slight shake to my head. I can’t let him hurt Trevor too. And I know it will happen. He hurts everything.
“This isn’t over.” Trevor yanks the door open and walks out into the open space. It’s not until I hear the apartment door slam shut that I sprint to bolt the deadlock.