by Celia Crown
I turn to steal a glance at Eric. He hasn’t spoken to me since we boarded the plane from Spain. His face is turned to the window, watching to buildings whizz by as I catch the reflection of the green taxi from a store’s window.
His body is turned and guarded, cutting me off physically and emotionally as Eric traps himself in his own mind. I have known everything is not how I foolishly hoped it to be; I have dreamed that we would be in a big house with children and live the rest of our lives in peace.
I know that it’s my fault, my fears won’t let me settle down; I have been in homes for less than six months, and I would be leaving again, it’s the life that I grew up with and those are the restrictions in my way.
The driver announces that we have arrived at the intersection that I had given specific instructions for. The house is about two blocks down and this way no one can track down which side the house is at.
I pay the driver, and Eric is out of the cab with his duffle bag on his shoulder, and his stance is aggressive and angry. Again, I don’t blame him for being agitated, and I know that he won’t be anymore since he won’t be leaving again.
I wait until the driver drives down the street and turn the corner before turning to Eric. His brows are knotted, and the dismay in his eyes makes my heart throb dully.
I manage to screw this up, I’m not cut to do this, and I expected too much from him. Producing a set of keys out from my pockets, I dangle them in front of his chest and wait for him to take them. He snatches them from my fingers. I bite back a wince at the pain that the key ring left behind.
“It’s two blocks down,” I say as I point to the direction that is opposite of the path the taxi left on.
He’s stalking down the sidewalk the second I spill out the number for his house. It’s all his. My name wouldn’t be present in anything in this last new life.
We can’t keep doing this, he wants one thing, and my fear wants another. It’s not fair for him to have to indulge in his perpetual paranoia that I have. I hope he can forgive me after all this time.
It takes me a bit of time to put one foot in front of another. It takes me longer to approach the perfect house in fear that I will taint it with my presence.
Sighing through my lips, I lift the weight on my shoulders higher as I’m actually categorizing in the same group as Adam.
He is right, though. I am a wicked woman. I am too selfish to let go of the man who I have come to love more than myself, too stupid to realize that I have been hurting him for three whole years, and too irrationally in love to not see that our worlds can never co-exist in amity.
I stop in front of the house, contemplating whether I should put my foot on the single step that leads up to the house. The strong brick foundation supports the house; I made sure to get the best for him, so he doesn’t have to fix anything.
The door swings open. His massive frame takes over the doorway as he comes stalking up to me with eyes firing up in piqued fury. In my head, I’m already berating myself for not even being able to give him the home that he had essentially painted me a picture of during the early months of our escape together.
I have no adequate word for what we have been doing for the past three years. We weren’t living. That’s for sure, but we weren’t running away either. It’s a complicated situation that Eric never signed up for, I should have told him the possible drawbacks if he wants to be with me.
Love is truly blinding.
“What the fuck is this?” he demands it. The end of his voice doesn’t end with a question, and he’s dragging me up to the house.
I’m powerless to stop him, and a part of me wants him to put me in the house himself.
He slams the door shut and I’m left wondering what section of the house he doesn’t like. Everything in here is exactly what he would want. I remember every detail about the ideal house that he wants and I’m sure I got every little detail down. The basement has a spacious work area for him to do some handiwork. His hands are used to construction so it would be great for him to do something down there.
“Is something wrong here?” I ask hesitantly. It’s like I’m trying to not poke the bear awake, but it’s hard when the bear is alert and angry.
“Everything’s wrong,” he snaps.
My heart drops to my stomach, and I survey the living room, and I wonder to myself where it is wrong. I can’t pinpoint one thing that he hates here; it’s his dream home, and he’s acting like I put everything he hates here.
“This is everything I wanted,” he says, and confusion is stronger than ever as thick smoke is stuffing between my brain cells.
“So, what’s wrong with it?” my voice comes out as a squeak.
His big hand yanks the strap of my backpack off my shoulders, and he tosses it to the ground by the couch as he pulls me by the wrist. I barely have time to remove my shoes before my feet is stumbling over his shoes as we make way towards the bedroom.
It’s a two bedroom and two-bathroom house, a backyard and a basement. The entire house is fenced with a garage to the side. I find no fault in a home like this, and Eric still thinks that it’s the worst thing ever.
“It’s not what you wanted,” he clarifies.
I blink in confusion, “Yes, it’s not what I want. This is for you.”
“The kitchen, the couch, the fucking basement— even the wood floor is everything I want,” he rants, instinctively clenching his fingers around my wrist.
I can feel my skin digging into my bones as they twist to find room to go when he’s strangling the skin through sharp pain catching on my numbing fingers.
He stops, eyes darkening in seething anger as his jaw ticks. “You’re going to leave.”
My heart drops lower; it’s on the floor now, and it hurts hearing it from his mouth. I think that this is better because I’ll have a hard time leaving by myself with what little willpower I have, but if he tells me then it’s a reason for me to not push back and beg for him to let me stay.
“Okay, I’ll leave—” I nod, swallowing back the tears and the ugly lump in my throat.
“You’re not listening to me,” he snaps, wrapping his hand around my jaw and fixing my gaze up to his.
I don’t dare to utter a sound as I wait with a hammering heart; my ribs are bruising my lungs from how wide they are expanding to accommodate the lack of oxygen.
“All of this is for me,” he says, but it’s a statement that isn’t meant to be answered with a confirmation or a denial.
“There is nothing in here that is yours,” he adds slowly, making sure that I’m absorbing his words.
He’s stating the obvious, and I don’t know why.
“You’re leaving me.”
I stammer with a hasten heart and shortness of breath, “Wait— what, um yeah— well, no, but yes—”
His fingers dig into the column of my neck, cutting off a small amount of air to get me to concentrate on him again.
“You were going to leave me here by myself,” he repeats with deliberate sneers that corner my courage to think properly.
“You want a permanent home, Eric,” I whisper, petting his scarred knuckles.
The familiarity of the action gives me a peace of mind, and I’m taking his scent into the shape of my lungs when I breathe in.
“I don’t want it if you aren’t here,” his other hand strokes my hair as he gazes down at me almost lovingly, I’m too out of it to believe it’s not real.
“This place is perfect for you; no one will find you here. I made sure of it. You are a completely new person here,” I lean to his touch as he pulls me closer.
“We have been through this,” I murmur thickly, “If I stay, I will end up dragging you along—”
“We have been through this,” he recites back to me, “I love you, and I will follow you to the end of the world.”
“Eric,” I whine wetly; my nose is itchy with the need to cry. “You’re making this harder than it already is!”
“Good,” he grun
ts darkly, “No more moving, this is the home you will permanently stay in. I know about your paranoia, and I have let it go on for too long, it’s time I put a stop to it.”
I tense under his securitizing glare, peering through my green eyes and grasping my escaping soul into his rough hands. He’s holding to hostage and relentlessly keeping it behind his ribs for safekeeping, and I’m not strong enough to take it back.
“What if—”
He kisses me to shove the thoughts back into my mind, and he bites down on my bottom lip to reprimand me.
“There is no threat. We haven’t had those since the one-year mark.”
I think back, and he is right, I haven’t had anyone after me when the one-year mark passes. I was too focused on the negativity that I forgot that I was safe for a while. I know that my past will always come, it’s part of a retirement factor that sadly comes along with the glass of Mai Tai on a beach.
However, Adam is a contracted killer with too many ethical morals that set forth a tycoon of deception for others. I have an inkling that he is the reason why people have stopped trying to find out my identity since the title Eve had been put up for the competition to those who are strong enough to win against other competitors.
“How long have you been thinking about his?” Eric drags my face upward, putting his forehead on mine, and my tears are rimming at my lashes.
“Don’t worry about it,” my voice cracks.
I absentmindedly trail my fingers along his tattooed arms, heat sizzling in my pounding heart when I realize that he isn’t going to let me walk through the front door. I hate myself for doing this to him again. When had I gotten so weak?
“Nora,” he rasps softly, “How long?”
“Too long,” I vaguely put out a time. I’m clueless as to when I have had the first thought of a future without him.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, pecking my lips with a chaste kiss.
I hum in uncertainty, “What for? I should be the one apologizing for making you leave all the time.”
“I let you think that I am unhappy with you,” he says with a sigh.
I blink in hopes that the tears would go away, “You aren’t happy with me.”
Strong arms circle around me, tucking my smaller frame securely to his body as he rubs his nose to the side of my head.
“I was an asshole,” he hisses, clenching my shoulders with one arm and coiling the other around the small of my back.
I tentatively loop my arms around his thick waist, muscles rippling under my fingers as he adjusts me in his arms to be more comfortable.
“I was only thinking of myself, and you were thinking of me too. You were concerned for both of us, and I didn’t appreciate what you were doing. I’m so selfish, Nora, I’m sorry. I have only been thinking about myself; I’m sorry that I made you feel unloved.”
I nod with the unspoken message of forgiveness. There is nothing to forgive when I wasn’t angry at him in the first place. I had no right to be upset that he had been distant with me. I can only blame myself for where we are right now. I pushed him away subconsciously that I would be surprised if he doesn’t want me anymore.
“You know the I love you, right? I always did, and I didn’t show it much over these past months, and I’m sorry.”
I shake my head with limited movements as I listen to his heart, “I love you.”
“I love you,” he mutters back into my ear, “Put that new passport in the safe. We’ll use it when we need it.”
I become rigid when I hear him mention the passport in the backpack, but it’s common knowledge to him that I always have a backup passport and ID in my backpack for emergencies.
“No more running,” he firmly states; it’s a command that my mind battles furiously with my heart.
My concern for his safety is just as strong as my love for him, “Can you stop me when I’m thinking about leaving again?”
“I’ll distract you.” his chest rumbles with a laugh, “I will talk you out of your paranoia.”
My head nuzzles into his neck, lips pressing to the strong and lively pulse under my lips as I sigh contently.
“Can I stay?” I whisper a pitch too quiet.
Eric smiles in my hair, speaking in his darkly velvet tone. “I will never let you leave me.”
Finale
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Noir MC Series
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