by Tiffani Lynn
Sitting on the edge of the bed at Dex’s apartment, I wonder what happened to the crazy but carefree life I was living a few weeks ago. It wasn’t perfect but I was surviving. Sometimes it was even fun. I shake my head, annoyed that I’m trying to make sense of anything right now. I need sleep before I tackle this subject, but even as tired as I am, I still can’t be alone in his spare bedroom bed so I curl up on the couch the best I can, take my pain pills and doze off, thankful Dex isn’t home yet.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I hear the lock turn and the front door open. Dex steps inside, eyeing me warily. When he doesn’t say anything neither do I, instead I close my eyes and pretend to return to rest. He doesn’t have to know that his mere presence tilts my world on its axis.
The door to his room closes and I hear him moving around inside. Afterward he comes out dressed like he’s going jogging. Quietly he slips out of the apartment and I’m left to wonder where he goes when he leaves like that.
Several hours later Dex returns. The apartment is quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge and the murmur of the television on low. I only have it on so I won’t get freaked; there’s nothing on worth watching. For me, part of hating to be alone is the fear of silence. When I was a kid, the extreme silence always preceded the seriously bad stuff. The counselor says eventually, if I keep fighting it and working through it, I’ll be able to sit in a quiet room and relax, but with the horrors in my head I don’t think that’s possible.
Dex doesn’t say a word to me, he just continues to his room. I wonder how long we can coexist without a word said between us. I want to be mad at him for strong-arming me into coming here. I don’t want to be his pet project, but I’m also thankful that he did. Alone in that empty apartment is not where I wanted to be. Not that I’ll admit it, but after everything that’s happened, my fear of being alone is bigger than ever. I don’t want to think about all the reasons why, so I focus on the cheesy movie flickering in front of me.
Dex’s door opens a little while later and his shadow appears in his doorway. He’s wearing a white T-shirt that pulls tight across his shoulders and chest while red basketball shorts hang on his narrow hips. His feet are bare and I can only see one side of his face with the light from the television in the room. God, I love the rugged beauty of his face, even if I want to slap it at times.
“Can’t sleep?” he asks, his deep voice low, but louder than the television.
“No. You know me. Nothing’s changed.” I try to sound unaffected as I shift my focus back to the television. I’m telling myself to ignore him but my dueling needs are having a battle. The weak side of me wants to beg him to let me sleep with him because too much has happened and I don’t want to be alone. But I also don’t want to be the needy girl anymore. Quinn and Judson are right; if I want my life to turn out differently, then I need to act differently and make different choices. My pride is winning this battle as I stay quiet and suffer in silence. Eventually, especially with the pain pills, I’ll get tired enough to pass out.
With casual grace only a man like Dex can have, he saunters to the couch and holds out a hand to me. “Come on Mari, come lie with me. You need sleep to heal.”
His tone is gentle, so much different than the one he used on me earlier this evening. “Come on, Mari, please don’t be stubborn.” The rumble of his voice is even lower than usual, triggering all the things that make women like me stupid around such masculine men, and the anger and irritation from earlier don’t seem so important now. Without even trying, he’s as effective as a snake charmer with a magic flute and I can feel my defenses lower.
I’m fighting a full-fledged battle in my mind because I want sleep and the feeling of safety he provides, but I also want to make changes in my life for the better. So far he’s not proved to be the best choice for my future and I keep getting hurt, but losing the loneliness for a night, even at the expense of my new-found determination is what feels right.
Stepping even closer, he wiggles his fingers and says, “Come on. I won’t be able to sleep if I know you’re struggling. You can say you’re not but I know you are.”
He’s right, even if I don’t want him to be, so I stop fighting against it. I simply melt into his request and take his hand as he helps me up. My ribs scream in protest and I flinch.
“Take it easy, baby.”
Baby? Why would he use a term of endearment with me? Doesn’t he understand little things like that make keeping my emotional distance harder?
As he leads me into his room, my body temperature rises from the inside out, almost as if my mind connects the moments between his sheets with the mixed scent of his skin and cologne that seems to linger in his room. My aching body and traitorous hormones hum to life with very little effort from him. My mind knows what kind of magic happens in here and wants to make sure I acknowledge it. Why isn’t there an off switch for olfactory senses?
Dex slips his shorts off but leaves his shirt and boxer briefs on and climbs between the covers. I’m wearing a giant AC/DC T-shirt I found at the thrift store for 50 cents that fits like a dress on me, hiding the pink bikini panties underneath. I join him under the covers but don’t touch him. That could be bad news. I may not affect him in any significant way but he sure as hell affects me. It’s not even just the sexual attraction with him, it’s the sense of safety that I haven’t felt anywhere else that’s an issue. I lie quiet for a few minutes before I ask, “Do you remember those two nights you held me in the foster home?”
“Yeah, I’m surprised I didn’t hurt you with my bony body.” His chuckle shakes the bed a little. “Why?”
“I just wondered. I think about it sometimes,” I confess.
“You do? Why? I figured you’d want to forget.” I can hear the confusion in his voice.
“I try to forget the things that Freddy did. I’m not a fan of being helpless. But up until recently, those were the only times in my life I felt safe. It’s a nice memory,” I tell him quietly.
“In the arms of a scrawny adolescent boy?”
I’m quiet for a second. I shouldn’t share these things but I can’t seem to help myself.
“Yeah, I’d never had anyone hold me with tenderness before, at least not that I could remember. I’d go through that night with Freddy a hundred times over just to have you hold me like that again. It made it worth it. I know that sounds sad but when you’ve lived my life, it makes sense. I’m comfortable when I sleep with Dee but that’s different. With her I’m still a little on edge. So, thanks.”
He says nothing. In fact, it’s so quiet I can’t even hear him breathe. It’s kind of freaky and I almost want to go back to the living room and turn the volume on the TV back up. I’ve probably made him uncomfortable with my random confession. I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. “Dex, I’m sorry you found me in the parking lot that night with Gino. Once I heal, I’ll be out of your hair and I’ll find a way to stay out of it. I know you never asked to be my babysitter and even as embarrassed and mad at myself as I am about it, I’m also thankful that you’ve been here to help me. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you. I couldn’t stay in that place with Ray tonight and my apartment freaks me out. I feel like someone is always watching me. So, thanks and I’m sorry.”
The heavy silence in the room continues and the paranoia I get with that kind of silence jumps up two notches. I’m preparing myself for fight or flight. It’s definitely a learned response to the lack of sound and just when I think I can’t stand it anymore, Dex rolls to his side and gently places his arm across my hip like he’s not exactly sure where he can touch me.
My eyebrows draw together as the confusion sets in. Why is he touching me? He practically hates me.
“Mari, I don’t know what to do with you. We’re polar opposites. You never stop talking and I never start. My life is controlled and calm and quiet. I only have a few friends and try to keep a low profile. You’re a whirlwind of unpredictability. You and I couldn’t be more opposite
if we tried.”
“I’m trying to keep a low profile, but I suck at it.”
“I’ve never met anyone worse at it than you. I don’t think it’s even possible for you, but as much as I fight it, I’m drawn to that.” There is a pregnant pause before he continues, “Drawn to you. I have been since we were teenagers. I used to watch you like a lovesick puppy and wish I were bigger, faster and stronger so you’d notice me as something other than a friend. I knew it was against the rules in the house, but I would have done anything just to have your hand in mine. The nights I could hold you meant the world to me. Does that make sense?”
“Then why do you act like you hate me all the time? Sometimes you look at me like I’m the scum on your shoes and it hurts, Dex. Especially since I know you’re capable of tenderness with someone like Leslie. I heard it in your voice.”
I can feel his weight shift in the bed and his lips press against my temple. Automatically I turn a little, moving toward the tender gesture and he bends his head toward me and places his lips softly against mine. My fingers thread into his hair of their own accord and I hold him to me, opening a little, hoping he’ll take the invitation. Thank God he does. His tongue slips inside and dances with mine softly, sweetly. My heart is pounding so hard I’m certain it can be heard echoing around the room.
“Mari,” he whispers, the Spanish accent stronger, his voice a rumble. He nips at my lower lip then swipes it with his tongue to soothe the slight sting and covers my mouth with his again. This time his hunger is obvious, his desire more acute. He moves across my cheek and down my neck with soft kisses and my body demands a reaction so I arch my back, forgetting about the damage I’ve sustained until the stab of pain hits me. I whimper and flinch and Dex pulls away.
“I’m sorry, something about you being this close, sharing my bed with just a little bit of fabric between us, started this. I forgot.”
I don’t want him to stop, afraid I won’t get this again. It’s part of what I crave, the intimacy, the contact, the warmth. I don’t want him to stop. “Dex.” It’s almost a plea but for what, I don’t know.
“Don’t call me that, Mari. To you I’m Jase. I don’t want to be Dex with you. I want to be the teenage kid madly in love with the gorgeous girl down the hall.”
“But we’re not 16 and 17 years old and you’re not in love with me.”
“No, but I don’t like the 28- and 29-year-old versions of us. Not together. I want you to look at me like you did the night you crawled into my bed when we were young. I want to be that guy for you.”
“Then you have to treat me like that’s what you really want. I may be a mess but I’m trying to take my life back and part of that is keeping anyone out of my life that doesn’t put in the same effort as I do.”
“I know.”
Chapter Eleven
Dex
Did I say all those things to her out loud? Holy shit! What is it about this woman that makes me lose my mind? All she has to do is look at me with any number of expressions and I lose all the control I’ve spent so many years crafting. I want to hold her, kiss her, take care of her and touch her in ways that no man ever has. I want to trace all her tattoos with my tongue and suck on every single piercing. I want to thread my fingers through her thick, wild hair and hold her to me as I sink inside her.
Most of all I want to protect her both physically and emotionally. I don’t want anyone to hurt her again and the thought of her jumping out of that car and rolling down the side of the hill in the dark freaks me the fuck out. When I drove past it the next day, I got out and looked at where the incident took place. I’m surprised she didn’t break her back or neck or get impaled by a stick. Once I realized a bear or a mountain lion could have gotten ahold of her, I almost threw up.
Who knows what else is out there, not to mention the fucker who grabbed her. I haven’t told her, but Quinn and I approached Detective Sharpe about the possibility that she’s dealing with a hardcore stalker. We both believe that her abductor had everything to do with the burglary of her apartment. It was something she mentioned in her interview, something he said to her in the car, that tipped us off. Of course, we can’t prove it, but Sharpe at least listened and said he’d look into similar cases and see what he could find.
Mari brings me out of the heavy thoughts plaguing me. “Dex, don’t say that kind of stuff to me. I don’t want to get attached if you’re going to change your mind in a week, and that’s what I know will happen. We’re so different and I’m not the kind of girl that will conform and be a ‘normal’ person, no matter how badly you or anyone wants me to. It’s also not likely, given my history, that chaos will stop following me. You won’t be able to tolerate that. If all of that isn’t reason enough, you said you don’t want a family and that’s pretty much the only thing I want.”
“Jase. Call me Jase. Please.”
“Please don’t ignore what I’m saying,” she pleads.
“I’m not ignoring you. I just don’t agree. I think with some of the changes you’re making, things will settle down in your life, and the more I think about it, I like that you’re different than every other woman I’ve been with. Please let us try this. Not just you in my bed. I mean really try.”
“Why? We’re so different. If it’s just for sex, I can’t even do that right now.” I can hear the hesitation in her voice. This is a time when I wish I was better with words.
“I can get sex anywhere, Mari. I only want it with you. I’m tired of trying to think about something else. I’m tired of trying to stay away from you, of worrying about you and wondering if you’re safe all the time.”
Softly her fingers graze through my hair. “Give it until morning. You may not feel the same when I’m not half naked in your bed. Right now, I think my vulnerability is like catnip for you. You’re the kind of person who wants to handle things. You like the white knight role. Couple that with a half-naked woman in your bed and it’s a recipe for morning-after regret.”
I can wait until tomorrow to tell her these things again if it’ll reassure her. “I understand what you’re saying and I’ll respect that. Get some sleep and we can talk in the morning before I leave for work.”
Scooting a little closer and slipping my arm under her head, but being careful not to jostle her too much, I kiss her hair and rest my arm over her hip. That seems to be the only area on her torso that isn’t hurting. Then I listen as her breathing evens out. It doesn’t take long before she’s sound asleep.
Why am I drawn to her? She’s beautiful, sweet and funny, but her unpredictability drives me crazy. She’s right, I need to take a step back and decide what I really want and not be clouded by my need to protect or the draw of her beautiful body. I, of all people, know the kind of life she’s had and I need to be careful with her.
At 4:30 in the morning, my phone buzzes on the nightstand and wakes me. Marina sleeps through it. I shift away from her as gently as I can.
“Hello?”
“Dex. It’s Charlie Perkins. Listen we got a report of a homeless guy named Marvin Stanger taking a beating. Officer on the scene says he’s in bad shape but won’t go to the hospital. Stanger mentioned your name. Any chance you can help us out? Blaine is on the scene and doesn’t want to force the guy, especially if he really is a friend of yours, but says he’s bad enough he should go to the ER.”
“Damn. Yeah, I know him. Where is he?”
“They said to tell you he’s in his usual spot.”
“Tell your guy I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
I dress quickly and drive the truck over to where I know Marv stays. Sure enough, there are two squad cars, both with their lights on, blocking the alley. Both officers are hovering over someone against the wall on the ground. I jog over to the officers, one of whom I recognize as they turn toward me.
“Marv, what’s going on?” The closer I get the more apparent his injuries become. One eye is swollen almost shut. There’s blood all over his face, down his neck, and on the collar
of his coat.
“I’m only talking to you. Tell these assholes to back off!”
“Hey guys, give me a few minutes, okay?” They nod and mumble as they wander back to stand by the closest squad car.
I put my back to the wall and slide down next to him like always. “What the hell happened?”
“Some guy was here asking questions about you. He was a weird dude. I wasn’t too worried about him because he was a wimpy looking fucker, a video game or computer-type kid.”
“Kid? He was young? I ask because I can’t understand why someone would be looking for information on me, much less a kid.”
“Young enough to be my son, but not yours. Twenties maybe? I told him to fuck off. I thought he got the picture that I wasn’t talking, until he showed back up with a huge stick. Caught me totally off guard. He was gettin’ the best of me until I snatched the stick from him and got in a few licks. He hauled ass then. Who’d you piss off, man?”
“Why was this guy asking you questions?”
“No fuckin’ clue but you owe me a steak after this.”
“I’m not buying you a damn steak unless you let someone look you over and stitch you up. You know you need a few of those, right?”
“Fuck you. Besides, I don’t have insurance.”
“Screw the insurance. I know a guy. Come on. Otherwise the cops will force you and I don’t want them to put you on a psych hold for 72 hours. You might be an asshole but you’re not totally crazy.”
“Fuck off Dex. But you’re right; I don’t want to get locked up. You know someone?”
“Yeah, let me make a call.”
By eight that morning he’s been stitched up and looked over. I take him by my apartment so I can get my uniform. He has to fill out a report so I’m taking him to work with me. He’s pissed as hell about it, but I figure this way I can guarantee he eats today and maybe we can figure out who the hell was asking questions about me.