by Krista Lakes
With a shake of his head, Roger rolled to his side, then up to his feet. Dean moved around to stand between me and Roger, gliding along the floor like a big cat. I rubbed my wrists, trying to keep my panic under control.
"Get out." Dean's voice was like ice.
"She wanted it, man," Roger said, trying to appeal to Dean. "Just wait until my father hears about this." Dean's face only hardened. Roger swallowed and started backing up toward the exit. He stopped and gave me a wink and an evil smile. "I own this city. There isn't anywhere you can go to escape me, so I'll see you later, Kaylee."
I shuddered, then looked back at Dean. When I first met Dean, I didn't understand how he was a bodyguard to the billionaires. He was tall and in shape, but he just wasn't physically imposing. Now, watching as he strode toward Rashid, his eyes gleaming violence, I understood. I would willingly take on ten muscle-men bodybuilders before I even thought about messing with Dean.
In one fluid motion, Dean had Roger pressed against the wall, his hands wrapped in the front of Roger's shirt. Roger started spluttering, the whites of his eyes growing bigger until he looked like a scared rabbit. Dean held him there, then leaned in and whispered something. I couldn't hear it, but somehow Roger's eyes grew even bigger. His hand started scratching at the wall, desperately looking for the door handle to make his escape.
Dean let him go, pushing off of him like he didn't want the stench of Roger on his hands. Roger scrambled for the door, running like a beaten dog with his tail between his legs. The door slammed shut behind him as he scampered down the hallway.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked, turning to me. He grabbed my wrists and looked them over, checking for any sign of damage. A single tear rolled down my cheek.
"He was gonna... he was gonna.." I couldn't get the words out. They were too horrific. Dean wrapped me up in his arms, protecting me from the world. He touched my hair softly and made a soft soothing shush noise as I broke down in tears.
I sank to the floor, and Dean followed me, still holding me. I cried into his shoulder, letting the terror and frustration work itself out. He just kept quietly comforting me, keeping me safe until I was ready to talk. Finally, the tears wouldn't come anymore and my ragged sobs slowed to where I could speak.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked again, concern showing in every word. I nodded.
"How did he get in here, Dean? I didn't let him in. I was in the kitchen, and then he was just there."
"I don't know, but I'll find out. I'm sure he just bribed someone or stole a key from housekeeping. I'm so sorry, Kaylee. This never should have happened."
I looked up at him, not wanting him to feel guilty for this. This was Roger's fault and no one else's. "There is no way you could have known he was going to do this. I should have been safe here."
Dean sighed and pulled me closer. I liked how secure he made me feel, like the way I did when my dad would keep me safe from monsters. "I still feel bad. It's my job to keep you safe."
"You did. You saved me."
Dean gave me another squeeze, my body still shaking from fear and adrenaline. I felt like I would never stop shaking.
"How did you get here in time? I thought you were still going to be gone for a while," I asked glancing at the clock. My water in the kitchen was boiling. I should turn it off before all the water evaporated.
"There was a sandstorm coming, so I hurried back. I'm afraid I didn't get your cilantro."
I felt a smile crack my face. The cilantro didn't seem so important anymore.
My phone chirped across the room, a text coming in from Owen. Dean and I both looked at it, knowing that we were going to have to tell him. Neither of us moved. If I didn't tell him, maybe I could convince myself it didn't happen. If Owen didn't know, then it was all just a bad dream.
My phone chirped again and Dean released me, standing up and retrieving my phone. I clicked on the message, not quite brave enough yet to call him.
We've been invited to go deep sea fishing on Rashid's yacht. If things kept going this way, Roger and his father would be permanent fixtures in our lives.
My phone slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor. I didn't even bother picking it up. In my head I could see exactly what was going to happen. The sheik was going to ask Owen for a last minute business meeting, and I would be on the boat alone with Roger. He would come at me again, and this time, there would be no Dean or Owen to save me. I started to cry again at the memory of him touching me, the smell of his cologne, the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Dean's arms were around me again in an instant as I crumpled back to the floor. "I can't do this..." I whispered, my lungs too compressed to get much more than a wheeze out. A cold panic sunk into my bones, every muscle in my body trying to "fight and flight" at the same time. Outside, the sandstorm hit, the wind howling with anger at being denied entrance.
"He's going to be everywhere, Dean. He will never leave me alone. Especially not after today." The fact was like an ice cube in my mind, always bobbing to the top and making everything cold. "He really does own the city, Dean. He and his father have connections to everything. I can't stay here; I'm not safe here anymore. I just want to go home."
Dean pulled out his phone, hitting a speed dial number and waiting patiently until a voice answered on the other end. It was Owen. Just hearing his voice on the other end of the phone sent elation and fear through me.
"Sir, there's been an incident." Dean was the perfect professional.
"What happened? Is Kaylee alright?" The phone wasn't on speaker, but I could still hear his voice clearly. I wished so much that I could bury myself into Owen's chest, let his arms wrap around me, and let this bad memory drift away. I wished I could have made the past thirty minutes different. I felt horrible that this incident would probably sour his relationship with the sheik. I wished I had another option, one that wouldn't have the possibility of destroying what he was working so hard on. I knew I shouldn't be the one feeling guilty, but I couldn't help it. Yet another wave of anger washed through me that Roger would completely and utterly betray my trust and personal space.
"Kaylee is fine, sir. A little shaken, though. I got here just in time." Dean glanced at me. I was still shaking like a leaf in an autumn breeze. He gave my shoulder a slight squeeze, then stood and headed toward the kitchen to tell Owen what had happened. I was grateful that he was giving me space so I didn't have to hear the words happen again.
I looked out at the sand beating against the window. It was beautiful in a way, but I knew I could never survive out there. Lightning flashed amid the swirling brown clouds. There was no moisture out there, only swirling, hateful sand. It was as if Mother Nature herself was telling me that I didn't belong in this place.
"Yes, sir, I understand. I'll see to it. Thank you, sir." Dean came over and handed me the phone. My hands were shaking so badly that I almost dropped it.
"Owen?" I was surprised that my voice didn't come out as a squeak. It sounded normal.
"Are you alright, Kaylee? I'll come home right now, sandstorm be damned." He sounded angry, but I knew his anger wasn't directed at me though.
"I'm okay. A little shaky, but I'm okay. Really." If I told him I was okay and he believed it, then maybe I really would be. "Please wait until the storm is over. Dean is with me and I don't need you getting turned into a sand zombie."
"Kaylee, I want you to know that I'm not going to let this kind of behavior slide." Owen's voice vibrated with a quiet rage. I was very glad he was on my side.
"Thank you, Owen," I said softly.
"I'll call back in a little bit, okay?"
I nodded, not caring that he couldn't see me as the line went quiet. I let the phone fall to my lap as I just stared out at the raging storm that would never yield any rain.
When the storm finally ended, the world returned to too-bright sunshine and blue skies. Down below, I could see workers with brooms pushing piles of sand from the sidewalks, the clean-up already beginning. Owen was ho
me shortly, almost as soon as the sky was clear.
"Kaylee," he called, barging into the room. I got up from the couch, knowing I was pale and trembling. I was in his arms before I could take a second breath.
Owen held me tight against his chest, his heart pounding wildly. I held onto him like he was the only solid thing in my world, a strong rock to hold onto among the swirling sands. He kept his arms around me, but looked down, releasing me slightly to brush a stray strand of hair from my face.
"You're sure you're okay?"
"If either of you asks me that again, I will hit you," I said, glancing toward Dean. He sat protectively by the door, a lion guarding his den. "Look, I made you both some dinner. I don't want to talk about what happened right now. I just want to eat."
The two men shared a glance and nodded. I knew the smells coming from the kitchen were intoxicating. Once I had hung up with Owen, I had dived into my cooking. It was something that required my concentration and allowed me to distance myself from what had just happened. I wasn't ready to deal with it yet.
Owen put on a smile, his face attempting to convince his brain that everything was okay. "What did you make? It smells wonderful."
"Cheeseburger Pie, a salad, and cookies." I motioned them both to the table and brought out a steaming casserole dish.
"What's cheeseburger pie? I don't think I've ever heard of it," Owen said, eying the baking dish in my hands.
"It's basically meatloaf with mashed potatoes and lots and lots of cheese. I had to improvise on the salad a little bit, but I think it came out pretty good. I'll put the cookies in the oven in just a couple minutes so they'll come out warm when we want to eat them." I smiled at the two men.
It was so much easier to just pretend that nothing had happened. I didn't want that afternoon to be real, so I chose not to think about it. I knew that I was going to have to face it eventually, but I didn't want to do it right this minute. I wanted to pretend, just for a little while, that everything was normal and things were going to work out the way they should. I just wanted to forget.
We ate quietly as the sun began to sink and the world turned dark. I put the dishes in the sink and we sat on the couches eating cookies, only making small-talk. When the cookies were gone, Dean volunteered to do dishes. I watched as Owen turned his phone on, which was bizarre because he never had his phone turned off. It immediately chirped at him and he went into the next room to work on it.
I sat on the couch. The room dipped into darkness as night fell across the city. For the first time since I was a small child, the dark made me nervous. I was sure every noise in the hallway was Roger trying to sneak back in. Every creak of the giant building made me feel sure that something terrible was about to happen.
I ran around the room, turning on every light I could find, but it didn't get rid of the fear. Owen came out and sat beside me on the couch, trying his best to be strong and comforting. I knew I was jumping at shadows, but that didn't make me any less stressed out.
A key slid into the door and the handle moved. I froze, but the door didn't unlock. A panic swept through me. I knew it was Roger coming back to take his revenge on the three of us. Would he be armed this time? Owen looked at me, his face going pale. Dean moved to the door like a hunting cat, opening it like he was expecting to jump on his prey.
A very startled businessman looked up at Dean with wide eyes, his hand holding the keycard in midair. "I must have the wrong room! So sorry!" he yelped, quickly scurrying out from under Dean's predatory gaze. Dean watched him disappear down the hall before closing the door.
"I'll be right outside if you need me," he said softly, knowing that Owen and I needed to talk. I waited until the door clicked shut before speaking.
"I can't stay here." I could feel a tear trickling down my cheek. I hated being afraid. "I want to go home."
Owen's brows furrowed. "Are you sure? We could get another hotel?'
"I know he would just find us again. Besides, we're supposed to have dinner with him tomorrow night. His father is the man you are here to see. I'm so sorry, Owen, but I can't stay here."
"Kaylee, I don't know what to do here. I want to do my job, but I want to make sure you are safe. You are more important to me, but I want to make sure that's really what you want."
"I know this contract is important to you Owen. I never meant to make things complicated-"
Owen cut me off before I could finish the sentence. "This is not your fault, Kaylee. Rashid is a jerk and if his father can't see past that to do business then he is an idiot."
I smiled, glad that Owen would be on my side no matter what.
"Owen, this place is your life. Not mine. I don't like it here. The sun, the sand, the foreignness of everything, the constant threat of Roger-- it just makes it clearer and clearer that I don't belong here."
"Maybe next time-" Owen started, but I cut him off this time.
"There will be no next time, Owen. I won't come back here."
Owen went quiet. If I never came back here, then that meant he would spend weeks here alone. We couldn't be together. Thoughts and pain flitted across his face like shadows across the sand dunes.
"I'll take you home, then," he said finally. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."
Chapter 19
"Owen, you don't have to come. You have obligations here," I said softly as we walked in the desert sun to the waiting jet. The red carpet was there once more, along with the stairs into the plane, but I didn't feel glamorous today. I just wanted to go home and forget that this trip ever happened.
"Kaylee, I can't in good conscience let you get on that airplane by yourself. You don't exactly do well on them." He smiled at me, but there was a tension around his eyes which I hadn't seen before. I boarded the airplane first, and I glanced back to see Owen standing at the first step, his gaze at the horizon. He was taking the scenery in as though he might never come back.
I buckled myself into the large leather recliner, settling in and taking some deep, calming breaths. This airplane wasn't as frightening this time, but I wasn't about to think that I could do this flying thing on a regular basis. Owen sat across from me, looking out the window and resting his hands on his knees. He looked mostly relaxed, save for the tension in his jawline.
I gave him a smile, though in all honesty it was only a curve of my lips since my heart wasn't in it. He mirrored my expression as I popped one of the pills from the previous flight into my mouth. I leaned back, focusing on my breathing and convincing myself that I could do this.
The plane started to rumble forward, the engines turning form a high-pitched whine into a solid roar as the wings met the wind. I could see Owen open up his laptop and begin banging on the keys, a frown across his face. I wondered just how much this little detour was screwing up his business dealings. He was supposed to be meeting with the sheik right now to discuss billions of dollars' worth of contracts, not getting on a plane to fly a terrified girl home.
My ears popped as we rose higher, and I took a deep breath, trying to keep my fear at bay. My body wanted to give into the terror, but I wasn't going to let it. The medication was starting to work itself into my system, making it easier to turn off the instinctual fear.
"Owen?"
He looked up for a moment, annoyed, before smoothing the lines of his face.
"Thank you." I gave him a small smile, hoping his edginess would subside. He smiled and ran his hand through his golden hair.
"Of course, Kaylee. You know I would do anything for you."
An awkward pause fell between us. I didn't know what to say. How could I thank him for possibly ruining a billion dollar contract because of me? Because of Roger, I quickly corrected myself. It wasn't my fault that I no longer felt safe in Dubai. Unfortunately, just because it wasn't my fault, didn't take away the guilty feeling.
There was a space growing between Owen and I that wasn't due to the position of the plane. He was angry about something, the way he banged on his keyboard, and
the flash in his eyes giving it away. I knew he wasn't mad at me but rather the situation. I wished for the millionth time that I could change how things had happened. I just wanted to go back to the way things used to be.
"Owen?" I asked, hoping to catch his attention. He made a noncommittal noise, but didn't look up. I didn't continue and instead just leaned my seat back. Something had changed about him, but I couldn't figure out what. The medicine was starting to make me drowsy, and since Owen didn't want to talk, I just let it overpower and carry me off to sleep.
Rain beat on the windows of the chauffeured town-car, smearing the lines of Des Moines into sad gray smudges. We drove by Gray's Lake and the crab-apple forest, but the blossoms were long gone. The lake was blocked by cement barriers displaying signs that the park was closed due to flooding. Over the softly playing radio, I could hear a weather report for yet more rain and increasing flooding throughout the area.
Owen and I sat on opposite sides of the vehicle. He hadn't said more than a word since we got off the airplane and into the car. We both knew that something we didn't want was going to happen. The flight had been painfully uncomfortable. Owen had focused on his work as we flew away from the thing he was trying to accomplish, the silence deafening. I appreciated that he was willing to drop everything for me, but I didn't want to ruin his dreams.
It wasn't even so much the leaving that was keeping us quiet; it was the fact that I would never go back. Rashid al-Saffar had too much influence in the region for me to ever feel safe there again. Unfortunately, that was exactly where Owen's job needed him to be. He would travel, and I would have to stay behind. It would be a long distance relationship that would never work. We both knew this was going to be the end, but we were trying to maintain the illusion of us as a couple for as long as possible.
The car pulled to a stop in the parking lot of my building. We sat silently, neither one of us really ready to say goodbye, but knowing it had to be done. The driver exited the car and started moving my suitcases toward my apartment. A small rumble of thunder echoed in the distance, breaking the silence.