The Only Shark In The Sea (The Date Shark Series Book 3)

by Gladden, DelSheree

  It didn’t matter, because they got across the street and Vance managed to sit himself in the passenger’s seat without needing any help. Although, when Natalie sat down in her own seat and saw that Vance hadn’t buckled himself in, she bit her lip. There was no way she could do it for him. It was just too close. Being in the car with him was hard enough. Panic sprang up and tried to choke her just thinking about putting her hand that physically close to him. She had to close her eyes to avoid thinking about it too hard.

  “Can you…please, can you put your seatbelt on?” she begged. He didn’t respond and her heart rate began edging upward. “I don’t think I can help you. Please, Vance.”

  Maybe it was the pleading in her voice, or her erratic breathing, but something finally got to him and he pulled his belt across his lap to click it in place. Once her heart resumed its normal pace, Natalie was tempted to let the ride go in silence, but she feared he’d fall asleep if she didn’t keep talking and then she’d really be in trouble. So, she chattered about Gypsy and anything else she could possibly think of the whole ride to his apartment. The only interruptions were when Vance told her to turn one way or the other. It was weird, but good in a strange sort of way.

  She didn’t stop talking until they reached Vance’s apartment door and he slipped the key into the lock. That’s when it finally hit her. It was like something sucked all the air out of her body and nothing she could do would bring it back. Her hands snapped up to cover her nose and mouth, but it had happened too fast and she was carrying the food. She felt herself sliding down the wall as her vision went black around the edges. She hadn’t fainted in a long time, but she feared her streak of control was about to end.

  Vance’s face appeared directly in front of her, his eyes and expression clearer than they had been all afternoon. “Natalie, breathe, you can do this.” He frowned, his focus slipping. “I mean, you don’t have to come in, I’ll be fine, but you don’t want to pass out in the hallway. It’ll mean I’ll have to pick you up and take you inside until you recover.”

  That almost made things worse. Her breathing jumped up again, but the sense in what he said sunk in a few seconds later and gave her back a smidgen of willpower. Slowly, she forced herself to calm down and breathe a little slower. It was a good five minutes before she was able to pick herself back up off the ground. She wasn’t sure where the food had gone.

  “Are you okay?” Vance asked. Not trusting herself to speak, she just nodded. Vance sighed. “You can go back to work, really. I’m fine.”

  Natalie swallowed the last of her panic and dug deep for the strength she needed to get through the rest of the afternoon. “You’re not fine, and I took the afternoon off. Plus, you have my lunch.”

  Glancing down at the takeout bag in his hand, Vance frowned. Sure, Natalie had just embarrassed herself right in front of him, but he had been the one to call her. He didn’t want her to leave and Natalie knew it. So she waited him out until he finally folded to his desire not to be alone. “Fine,” he mumbled before pushing the door open and walking through.

  Natalie took a deep breath then stepped gingerly across the threshold like it might open up and send her tumbling down to Hell if she touched it with too much pressure. She was actually a tiny bit surprised that it didn’t. It took her a few seconds to take another step and clear the door. Tempted to leave it open so she had an easy escape route, Natalie reminded herself of how exhausted Vance was and that he’d likely be asleep soon after eating.

  She could do this. Maybe. Hopefully. No, she had to. Suck it up and be brave, she chided herself. She’d never been outgoing or particularly daring, but once upon a time she had been strong. It was hard to remember what that felt like. Thinking about it required dredging up memories of her early life and everything her parents had put her through. That was just as dangerous as letting someone touch her, but if anyone was worth reliving the pain of her childhood, it was Vance.

  For a brief moment, she let herself go back to the many times she stood in front of her father and let him try to beat her down. It was never physical, but it left scars all the same. She stood there so many times and let him berate and belittle her for some imagined wrong, taking it in silence. Maybe that wouldn’t seem like strength to anyone else. She was sure some people would call her a coward for not standing up to him. She’d thought about it many times, but she knew what it would cost and she also knew she was strong enough to take it and survive. That’s how it was before the end, anyway.

  Those last few weeks before she ran away, those memories she did not allow to surface. Those weren’t moments of strength for her and they wouldn’t help her now. Instead, she focused on every horrible thing her parents had ever said or done to her, how she had withstood it all and held onto her dream of escaping their influence. If she could refuse to break under their attacks for almost eighteen years, she could sit in Vance’s living room and eat a sandwich.

  It seemed like an eternity before she finally stepped away from the door and carefully made her way to the living room. Vance didn’t say a word until she was sitting in the armchair catty-corner to the couch he was on. “I’m proud of you.”

  She was still holding a very delicate balance between running in terror and staying glued to her seat, but warmth at his praise flooded through her. “Thank you for setting everything out,” she said as she reached for her sandwich, which now resided on a ceramic plate.

  Vance shrugged and picked up his own plate, though he stared at it rather than eating. She knew he wasn’t hungry. Taking care of himself and living didn’t seem like options he even wanted in that moment. There was a time when Natalie experienced those same feelings. She had been broken, beyond repair, she’d believed at the time. It wasn’t the death of someone she loved, but her own death. The death of the girl she had been, of the one she had one day hoped to become.

  Alone in every possible way, Natalie had given up. Some instinct for self-preservation and the kindness of a random stranger woke her basest need for food. It had been enough to make her realize she didn’t want to die lying on the ground sheltered only by the overpass she’d been sleeping under. Strange that something so small could have made the difference. It had been a beginning, something to kick-start her. She knew what it felt like to be alone, and she refused to let Vance face putting his life back together without help.

  By the time she finished her lunch, Vance had managed to eat half of his and sat staring at nothing. He had called wanting to talk, but it was obvious he was too emotionally spent to manage it. He needed some real rest. “Vance, would you like to go lie down for a while? I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

  He nodded and started to lie down on the couch.

  “You might be more comfortable in bed…”

  “No,” Vance growled. “I’m not going in there.”

  Natalie closed her eyes and cursed her stupidity. Of course he didn’t want to sleep where Stephanie had died. He probably hadn’t been in there since the coroner took her body away. “Why don’t I just get you a blanket, then,” she said quietly.

  Without responding, he curled up on the couch and closed his eyes. It broke her heart to see him like that, like a child too sick to manage anything more. Having no idea where he kept his spare blankets, it took her a while and a little snooping through various cupboards and closets before she found one. He was already asleep by the time she laid it over him.

  Her original plan had been to clean while he slept, and she still planned to do that since it was desperately needed, but her goal had expanded. Natalie guessed that even though Vance seemed to have showered before going to the café, it was the first time in a while. His mismatched appearance made sense after his refusal to go into his room. He’d put on whatever he’d been able to find around the apartment.

  Biting her lip, Natalie stood in front of Vance’s bedroom door an hour later once the general mess of his apartment had been dealt with. He couldn’t keep living on the couch, wearing only what was
left in the dryer. Most of the clothes were Stephanie’s, anyway. At some point he’d have to go back into his bedroom, but facing it now was simply more than he could handle. She knew he might be angry at her for doing it, but it was the only thing she could think of to help him.

  Opening the door, she stepped into the room and looked around. The bed was disheveled, and there were clothes on the floor in a few places, but overall it was fairly clean. One glance to the bathroom showed it to be a little more disorganized. The real problem, she guessed, was the pregnancy test still lying on the floor. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids as she pictured Vance walking back in and seeing it. Why hadn’t anyone picked it up?

  Stepping around the test, Natalie open the doors of the cabinet under the sink and shuffled through cleaning supplies until she found gloves and disinfecting wipes. She donned the gloves and picked up the test, but hesitated before throwing it in the trash. Was that the right thing to do? It seemed strange to store it somewhere, but what if he wasn’t ready to toss it away? Unsure of what to do, she decided to put the decision off for the time being and instead wiped it down and sealed it in a plastic baggie. She would ask Vance when he was more himself.

  After setting the test aside, Natalie really got to work. The entire bathroom was spotless, the bathroom floor scrubbed clean of mascara stains from Stephanie’s crying, and all hints of that night removed. She even cleaned out the hair and makeup supplies and anything that didn’t seem to belong to Vance. It wasn’t her place to throw anything away, but she knew Vance wouldn’t be able to set foot in the room with so many reminders of what had happened. Carefully, she packed everything up in boxes found in Vance’s office and stacked the boxes in front of his bookshelves for him to sort through later.

  She ran out of boxes long before she made it through all of Stephanie’s clothes and shoes. Dress bags served as an alternative as she zipped as many blouses and dresses as she could into each bag and laid them all reverently atop the boxes. Once Steph’s clothes and shoes were stored in the other room, she set to work on the bed.

  Vance slept through her trips back and forth across the apartment to load the bedding into the washer and retrieve a new set. She was reaching out to smooth the replacement comforter across the bed when the bedroom door she’d left partway open slammed into the wall behind it.

  Chapter 18

  The Chance

  Vance gaped at sight of his bedroom scoured cleaned of Stephanie’s influence and lost it. “What are you doing in here?”

  Natalie cried out in shock and stumbled back against the bed. “I…I just, uh, cleaning up. Trying to…”

  His eyes scanned the room, the room he had avoided so stringently, and felt a thousand knives twist into his gut. What had she done? She’d erased the reminders of his guilt and failures, like it was fine that he had let Stephanie die alone, like it didn’t matter! How could she do that to him? “Get out!”

  “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I was just trying to help.” Terrified and panicked, she bolted for the door. She was nearly past him when a wave of fury made him act. He grabbed her arm and yanked her back to him, a demand to know what she had been thinking taking away all of Stephanie’s belongings perched on his lips.

  Before he could utter a word, Natalie’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, but she didn’t start hyperventilating. She was too terrified even for that. A strange choking sound shoved every vengeful thought straight out of his mind. She couldn’t hyperventilate because she couldn’t even get an ounce of air into her lungs. They had completely frozen up in her terror. Wild-eyed, she slapped at his arm with her free hand in full-out manic horror.

  Vance was so shocked by her reaction that it took him a moment to comprehend what he had done and tear his hand off her arm. As soon as she was free, Natalie gasped in a massive, ragged breath and ran. Still stunned by the shock of the bedroom and her reaction, he didn’t follow right away. It wasn’t until he actually processed what he’d just put her through that he burst out of the apartment and sprinted down the stairs at a speed that was sure to end with a broken leg in order to try and intercept her.

  He was fast, but she was already almost to her car when he blew through the main entrance and she saw him. Her shriek was filled with real terror, not just at being startled by his sudden appearance. That slowed him for just a moment like a bullet to the shoulder might slow someone down, but adrenaline took over and he ran for her. He got close enough to see the tears pouring down her cheeks as she practically dove into her car and peeled out of the parking lot a few seconds later.

  Left standing on the curb, Vance’s knees failed him as he watched her disappear. What had he just done? He had called her that day because he’d promised to help her, because he needed and wanted to help her. It was the only thing capable of dragging him out of his alcohol-ruled life as a hermit. He cared about Natalie, and had worked so hard to build some level of trust with her, and he’d just ruined everything.

  He didn’t fully understand what had caused her to fear human touch so much, but he’d promised to never hurt her. The look on her face when he grabbed her arm would never leave him. It wasn’t just fear. It went so far beyond that, he didn’t even know what to call it. He had caused it. He was the reason she was in tears, traumatized, and running again.

  Desperate to fix his mistake, he dug up some reserve of energy he didn’t think existed and ran back up the stairs to his apartment in record time. He was still wearing his idiot getup of an old concert tee, ratty jeans, and deck shoes, but he didn’t stop to change. Keys in hand, he bolted back down the stairs and rushed out of the parking lot in search of his car. As out of it as he was when he’d arrived home from the funeral, there was no telling where he’d left it. He was eventually forced to repeatedly hit his lock button before spotting the flashing lights at the back of the lot.

  Vance ran for the car and was out on the street a few minutes later trying to remember how to get back to Natalie’s building. He’d only been there once, the night of the drunken idiot banging on her door, but he pushed himself to recall the address. He managed to take only two wrong turns before spotting her building and sliding haphazardly into a parking space at the end of the block. Even though Vance knew Natalie wouldn’t go anywhere else but her apartment if she wanted to feel safe, he still scanned the area for her car. He spotted it at the other end of the block and sighed in relief, but felt his shoulders bunch up with tension as he approached the door and realized it had an exterior lock and code system.

  There was no way for him to get in without Natalie coming down to unlock it for him or him getting the code from her, and he knew full well that was never going to happen. Not sure what to do, he kept walking toward the entrance, hoping he’d get lucky and catch someone on their way out. Vance and luck seemed not to be on speaking terms. The foyer was bare when he glanced through the window.

  He was about to park himself on the stairs and attempt to think about what his next move should be when a balding, frumpy man started making his way down the stairs. Vance held off trying to get his attention, as that seemed like it would only make him look crazy. From the corner of his eye, he watched the man as he checked his mail—taking a rather long time at it—and approached the front door.

  Vance thought maybe he’d just walk out and he could sneak in, but while the man did open the door, he didn’t walk out. Instead, he looked right at Vance and said, “You’re a friend of Natalie’s, right?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Vance wondered how on earth this guy even knew her. It wasn’t like Natalie made an effort to get to know her neighbors.

  “Thought I recognized you from the night that moron tried to break her door down.” He looked Vance over with a critical eye. He didn’t seem all that bothered by Vance’s strange attire, and instead commented on something else entirely. “She okay? Natalie, I mean. Came tearing up the stairs and nearly ran me over a few minutes ago. Looked like she’d been crying.”

  Great, Vance thought, no
w he’s never going to let me in. He couldn’t think of a lie that would make any sense, so Vance settled for a portion of the truth. “Yeah, we were over at my apartment and got into an argument. I tried to apologize, but she ran off too fast.”

  Oddly, the guy laughed. “She’s a skittish one, that’s for sure.”

  He shook his head, and Vance found himself more than a little disturbed that this guy acted so familiar with Natalie when he was positive she’d probably never said more than two words to the man. If he could ever get Natalie to talk to him again, he’d definitely ask her about this guy. “Sorry,” Vance said, “I don’t think I got your name. I’m Vance Sullivan.” He extended his hand and waited for the man to take it.

  He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then pulled the door open wider and took Vance’s hand. “Howard Campos.” His grip was stronger than Vance would have expected. “I don’t mean to pry, but what’s her story? Every time I pass by her she acts like I’m gonna attack her. I try to be friendly and all, but everyone seems to scare her no matter how nice people are.”

  Vance had no desire to tell this man anything about Natalie, but he also wanted him to let him into the building. Hesitating for a moment, he gave him the barest of explanations. “I don’t know the whole story, but I know she had a rough childhood and had some bad experiences that made her wary of other people.”

  “Like abuse?”

  “I’m really not sure,” Vance said cautiously. Why was this guy so interested in Natalie? Done indulging him, Vance took a risk and asked, “Look, I know you’re probably not supposed to, but would you mind letting me in? I know Natalie most likely won’t see me right now, but I just wanted to at least try to talk to her and apologize for being such an ass earlier.”

  Howard seemed to consider his request carefully, but eventually smiled and waved him in. “I’m sure whatever it was you did probably wasn’t as bad as she thinks. Just about anything will set that girl off. Go apologize. I’d hate to be the reason that poor girl lost a friend.”