Eyes closed, Vance shook his head slowly. His fingers unfurled toward her, but clenched back into a fist a second later. “What made you finally run?”
“A cupcake,” Natalie said. She almost laughed at the confused expression that sprang onto Vance’s face. If she hadn’t been so overcome with the agony the memories drenched her in, she might have. She knew she owed Vance an explanation for the cryptic comment, though, and summoned up enough courage to continue.
“For two weeks, every day my mother brought me the same meals. Dry toast and a boiled egg with tea for breakfast, bland, simple meals. The day I turned eighteen, the meal didn’t change, but when she set the tray on the ground without speaking, the teacup was upside down. It took me a while to even realize the difference. The days had all blurred together into a never ending fog. I had no idea it was my birthday until I lifted the teacup and found a small iced cupcake beneath it.”
Natalie hadn’t told Vance or the detective much about her mother. She wasn’t as cruel as her father, but she was demanding in her own right and allowed the emotional abuse to strangle the life out of her only child. She had never treated Natalie as her father did, but Natalie thought her almost worse than him for not even trying to protect her.
She still didn’t know why she gave her the cupcake that day. Never before had she done anything special or kind for Natalie. The only rewards she doled out were for work done well or unwavering obedience. Birthdays did usually merit a special treat, but not if Natalie hadn’t been in her father’s good graces at that time. The oddity of the cupcake was enough to pull her out of the fog and remind her that she may have felt like dying, but hadn’t actually died yet.
It was enough.
“I know it probably sounds stupid, but the taste of the cupcake, it reminded me that I still had a chance to live, to escape and find something better.” She swiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek and turned her face into the pillow to hide. “I waited until night, snuck out of the basement through a window, and then snuck up to my bedroom. The only thing I took with me was the money I’d saved from babysitting.”
“Why didn’t you take more?” Vance asked.
Natalie’s brow creased as she looked over at him. “The money was the only thing that was mine.”
She said it plainly, confused why Vance was even asking. Everything else in her room belonged to her parents. She knew that. Her father had always made it abundantly clear. He had paid for her furniture and clothes, her books and the few personal items she had been allowed. Taking anything more than the money would have been stealing from him.
“Oh, Natalie,” Vance said. His fingers tightened into a fist as he shook his head slowly. “I don’t want this to scare you, but it is so difficult for me not to touch you right now.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I just want to hold you, and I know I can’t, but it’s killing me that you grew up believing you were barely more than a possession to be controlled.”
Her mouth twitched at the idea of him touching her, but it didn’t frighten her nearly as much as it would have only a few hours earlier. She couldn’t even dream of telling him it was okay, but the idea of it didn’t send her running, for once. It took a moment to get past that thought. When she did, the rest of his words slowly sank in.
“When you left your home…” She trailed off, feeling stupid and naïve for even having to ask a question that must have seemed so juvenile to Vance.
He didn’t laugh or look at her like she was ignorant. The compassion she had seen earlier remained as he spoke. “When I left, I took my clothes and computer, books, music, things like that. The dorm I was staying in had furniture already, so I didn’t take my bed or dresser, but if I had been moving into an apartment and none of my siblings had needed the furniture, my parents would have been fine with me taking it.”
“And that’s…normal?”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “Natalie, no family is really normal, but that is fairly standard for parents to allow their kids to take their personal belongings when they leave home.” His expression dulled as Natalie’s own expression fell into shame. He stopped himself from reaching out and looked at her seriously. “You had your money, at least, right? You were able to find somewhere to stay and get new things?”
The hope in his eyes broke her heart. Her answer must have shown on her face because sadness spread across his features immediately. “As soon as I got away, the guilt hit. I could barely breathe. I had no idea what was happening. I thought I was being punished by…I honestly didn’t know if it was him somehow doing it to me or some other being, God or something I didn’t know enough about to understand.”
“A panic attack,” Vance said in defeat.
“I thought I must have made the wrong choice, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back. I just kept walking, feeling like I was going to be swallowed up by some force that would cast a final judgment and expose how horrible I had been. The depression I’d felt locked up in the basement hit again and I couldn’t shake it by myself,” Natalie admitted though it made her shrink in on herself to speak the words.
Vance shook his head angrily. “Don’t,” he commanded, “don’t blame yourself and don’t pull away from me.” She froze, staring at him, not in fear exactly, but with a great deal of uncertainty. Seeing her reaction, he sighed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you, I just…how long? How long were you on your own like that?”
It took Natalie several tries before she managed to answer. “Three…three weeks.”
“You said you needed help to get going again…”
Natalie nodded, her body relaxing slowly as better memories rose above the worst ones. “A woman. She was homeless, not living under the overpass like I was, but she came there a lot. We’d never spoken. I didn’t talk to anyone. I barely even moved.” Natalie still wondered every day what made the woman want to stop and help her. “One day, she sat down by me and set a sandwich down next to my head. It was the first time I’d felt hungry in weeks. It sounds stupid to say it out loud, but the smell of that warm sandwich got to me just like the cupcake had. It was this reminder that I wasn’t ready to die. No matter what I had been through already, things could get better. I didn’t really believe it then, but I was really, really hungry.”
Smiling, Vance said, “Food is a good motivator. Your shrimp linguine worked pretty well on me last night. Believe me, I understand what you’re saying.”
His words affected her deeply because she knew he meant them. Cupcakes and sandwiches sounded so silly to talk about, but he truly understood what it felt like to be so lost you didn’t even know if you wanted to go on anymore.
“How did you go from sleeping on the streets to graduating college and landing a good job?” Vance asked with a lighter tone than he’d had earlier.
Shrugging, Natalie relaxed. This part of her story wasn’t as hard to talk about. “The woman told me about a women’s shelter. I was pretty weak and I looked awful, but they took me in and allowed me to get cleaned up.”
Natalie chose not to tell Vance that when she had arrived at the shelter she had been so weak and dirty that several volunteers had to help her wash and she hadn’t been strong enough to resist despite her newfound phobia, or that her weight had dropped from a healthy one hundred and twenty-five to ninety-three pounds. It would only make him feel worse, and he already took too much of her pain on himself. Besides, it had been the start of her new life. No matter how she had arrived at the shelter, she had left in considerably better condition.
“The shelter workers helped me find a job, change my name, and apply to a local college. Once I was earning enough money to live on, they helped me find a small apartment, and the rest is history, I guess.”
There was still pain hiding in his eyes, but Vance’s expression now held an equal amount of relief and gratitude. “I’m glad you got that sandwich and found the shelter.” His expression changed slightly, to one of contempl
ation. “Have you ever thought of going back there, or looking for the woman who helped you? I know I’m not your psychiatrist anymore, but it might be good for you.”
A real smile spread across Natalie’s lips. “I already have. After I graduated, I went back. No one knew what had happened to the woman who helped me, but the shelter workers remembered me and I was able to thank them. I couldn’t afford to donate much at first as a way to repay them for everything they had done for me, but I’ve donated more every year, and I’ll keep donating as long as I can.”
Silence fell between them for a few minutes, but less tense and anxiety ridden than before. It was almost shocking for Natalie to experience the change, to know Vance knew the truth about everything and he not only understood, he had no desire to turn his back on her.
“You asked me before,” Vance said slowly, “if I saw you differently after hearing your story.” He shifted, bringing himself the tiniest bit closer to her. “Now I’ve heard your whole story, and it does change the way I see you, but only in the best ways.”
Natalie shook her head, knowing he wasn’t being completely honest, but he spoke over her silent objections.
“It’s not about how I see you, though. I know you’re determined to help me, but I can’t let you do that without returning the favor.” His mouth curved up in a warm smile that caused a strange tightening in Natalie’s chest. “I won’t be satisfied until you see yourself how you really are. Strong, brave, beautiful…amazing.”
Natalie used to believe she was the first two, the last she wasn’t so sure about at all, but… “Beautiful?” she whispered.
“Beautiful,” Vance echoed.
The feeling of her chest constricting was all too familiar, but the absence of panic to induce it was startling. The warmth she felt touching him the night before fluttered back into her mind like a temptation. It was one thing to make accidental contact when he was asleep. Touching him, or letting him touch her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it no matter how much she wanted that feeling again in that moment.
He wanted it too, she realized. It was a frightening realization, and she almost pulled back out of instinctual fear. Vance had admitted it in a way a few minutes earlier, but he had been talking about comforting her. Calling her beautiful…she didn’t know if that changed his reason for wanting to touch her. It was right there in his eyes, though. All it would take was her making the first move, telling him it was okay. Desperation to feel his skin against hers almost literally took her breath away, she wanted it so badly, but she couldn’t. She hated herself for her weakness, but there was no way around it as she lay face to face with him, the gap of less than a foot of space between them an uncrossable distance.
Reluctant, but seeing her conflicted state, Vance began to pull back.
“Stay with me,” Natalie begged.
“But…” Vance seemed uncertain. He saw her labored breathing, her fear. Experience told him to back off, and he was a good enough man to listen.
Natalie pushed up onto her elbow, more desperate than ever. “Please.” He didn’t move, but he didn’t lay back down. “Please, Vance, it’s better when you’re with me.”
“But I’m scaring you again,” he argued.
“No.” She couldn’t verbalize the real reason behind her reaction to his presence. She wasn’t even sure she totally understood it. All she really knew was that she needed him to stay, even if just for a little while.
Vance was hesitant as he laid back down on the bed. Facing her as he laid on his side, he watched her carefully. Closing her eyes, she imagined she could feel the warmth radiating from him, comforting her, and it helped calm her breathing and racing heart.
One arm tucked beneath her pillow, the other curled against her chest, fingers in a tight fist. Forcing the fingers open was the first step, pressing her palm flat on the mattress the second. For the longest time, that was the most she could manage. The effort it took to slide her hand away from her body a few inches was Herculean, but she did it. Opening her eyes, she found Vance’s hand barely half an inch from hers. Only mildly surprised that he’d known exactly what she had wanted, she was taken aback all the same when she met his eyes and saw her own desires and fears echoed in his.
She wasn’t ready to move any closer than they were in that strange yet beautiful moment, but she wasn’t terrified to try anymore. Not with Vance.
“I’m not scared,” Natalie whispered.
Vance swallowed hard. “I am.”
Chapter 24
The Plan
A knock on the door startled them both, but neither one moved for a few seconds. Natalie seemed pinned in place by fear, but Vance’s hesitation was more one of confusion. What was he doing? He had been blatantly honest in telling Natalie that he was scared. He was terrified to be close to her for more than one reason.
Peter’s initial disapproval at thinking he was involved with Natalie brought on loads of guilt. How could he even be thinking about something like that so soon after Stephanie’s death? That wasn’t the only conflicted thought plaguing him. Was the fight and the reason he left that night pushing him away from his grief to search out something to fill the emptiness, or was his sudden interest in Natalie independent of everything else? Was it wrong to consider getting closer to her?
He knew it could hurt her, derail the progress she’d been making lately if they built a relationship from the ashes of horrible circumstance and it failed like so many others. If his goal was truly to help her, shouldn’t he back off and do that? Not be selfish? Was he putting his needs above hers by even considering such a thing? Would his friends and family shun him for it? Did he care? Would he and Natalie ever move beyond close but not too close interactions? He didn’t know the answer to any of his questions, and that scared him even more.
The knock came again and Vance sighed while Natalie’s eyes darted around wildly. “Hey,” he said, “it’s okay. I’m almost positive it’s just Guy dropping off some things. I gave him the code to get into the building earlier. I’ll answer it. You can stay here if you want.”
Pushing up to sitting, Natalie seemed confused. “Guy? Why would he be dropping anything off?”
That’s when Vance remembered he had never actually discussed his plan with Natalie. “Uh, I’ll explain in a minute.” Then he bailed. Yeah, it was the coward’s way out, but he just needed a few minutes to clear his head. He made it to the door quickly and flicked open all the locks before finally opening the door to a fairly impatient looking Guy. “Sorry, fell asleep.”
“Yes, I assumed as much when you neglected to answer any of my texts earlier,” Guy said. He shook his head like he was talking to his son, Warren, but there was great relief underlying his annoyed tone.
“Sorry. What were you texting me about?”
“I did not make it by at lunch as I had promised. Charlotte needed me at home for a few minutes and there was not enough time.” Guy looked repentant, but Vance just shrugged.
“What time is it?”
“Six o’clock in the evening,” Guy said. “I can imagine the rest was good for you, though. I am glad you were able to sleep.” Guy cocked his head to one side and smiled. “Bonjour, Natalie. How are you doing?”
Vance glanced back and noticed her standing several feet behind him. A quick stab of anxiety hit him as he realized her slightly rumpled appearance made it pretty obvious she had also been asleep. Did Guy realize they had been in the same bed? He turned back to his friend, leery of judgment, but Guy’s expression showed nothing but friendliness.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Natalie whispered.
“Good, good. I am glad to hear that. I am also glad that you are keeping an eye on Vance. You must make sure he does not ignore his friends again for so long. We were quite worried,” he chided.
Natalie smiled faintly. “Yeah, me too, but he seems to be doing a lot better today.”
“I’m fine,” Vance grumbled. “Is that my stuff?” He pointed at the duffle bag slung ac
ross Guy’s shoulder. He knew it was a jerk thing to do to cut off all his friends and family while he was holed up in his apartment, but he just couldn’t face anyone. He knew Guy understood that, and was only concerned about him, but it wasn’t like he needed Natalie to babysit him.
Guy handed over the bag with a shake of his head. “I used my best judgment on what you might need since you were not texting me back. I can go back if you need anything else.”
“No, I can go,” Vance argued. He couldn’t avoid his apartment forever.
“I noticed the apartment was…” Guy frowned slightly. “Less full?”
The patter of bare feet on hardwood brought Natalie a few feet closer. “That was my fault,” she said quickly. “I moved Stephanie’s stuff to the office because…” She glanced over at Vance, biting her lip as she seemed suddenly unsure about what to say.
Not wanting Guy to judge Natalie, he stepped in and said, “I was having a hard time being around Steph’s stuff, so while I was passed out on the couch, Natalie boxed it up until I was ready to deal with it because she thought it might not be good for me to live on my couch in the same clothes for weeks on end.”
It seemed more ridiculous than it felt when he said it out loud, but Guy only nodded. He understood. He had dealt with his own grief, especially when a patient and close friend took her own life the year before, but he knew the stages and types of grieving as well from years of schooling. Even still, he seemed somewhat unsure. “But now you are staying here?”
“I’m just not ready to go back,” Vance said tersely. A quick glance at Natalie showed her expression confused, worried, and maybe just a little bit glad. Avoiding her gaze, he turned back to Guy. “Thank you for bringing everything, and I promise not to go dark on you again, okay?”
It was a clear invitation to go away. Vance knew he was being a prick, but he didn’t want to deal with Guy’s questions yet and Natalie’s eyes seemed to be boring a hole in the back of his head. Yes, he felt miles better than he had before calling Natalie for lunch, but there was still an entire continent to cross before he felt like he’d be back to normal.
The Only Shark In The Sea (The Date Shark Series Book 3) Page 20