Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set

by Lashell Collins

  “Oh, Miss Colby,” he says rushing over. “I’m so happy to see you; you’re looking well this afternoon.” I say nothing, but smile meekly at him as he shakes my hand, and then nods at Josh. “Detective, good to see you again.”

  “Mr. Nelson,” Josh frowns at him and I can’t help but wonder what all this fuss is about.

  “Miss Colby, you’ll be happy to know that we’ve put a rush on your door and the workmen just finished with it about an hour ago,” Nelson tells me excitedly. “I have your new keys here and, I want you to know that we have taken steps to make the building even safer. Going forward, there will be more security guards on duty at all times and, we’re considering having all guests to the building sign in.”

  He looks very proud of himself and I almost hate to give him the news that I’ll be moving out as soon as I can. I know that he’s done all of this because he’s afraid of my brother’s wrath. I’m sure the last thing he wants is to make Lucas Colby angry, but I just can’t stay here.

  “Thank you, Mr. Nelson,” I say quietly as I take the new set of keys from him. “But I’m afraid I’ll be moving soon. I’m sorry, I just can’t stay.”

  “Oh, no. Oh, I really hate to hear that,” he says sorrowfully. “Isn’t there anything I can do to change your mind?”

  “No, I’m sorry. It’s not a reflection on you or the building. I just … can’t,” I say tearfully, and Josh tightens his hold around my waist.

  “I understand,” he nods and steps aside as Josh and I proceed to the elevator.

  When we step inside, Josh pulls me into his arms and holds me close as the lift carries us up to the top floor. Standing in his arms, breathing in his scent … my nerves are calmed a little by the feel and the smell of him. I don’t think I could do this – going back into my apartment right now – without him.

  As the elevator stops, Josh lightly kisses the top of my head, and when I look up at him he smiles softly at me and kisses my forehead. “Come,” he whispers, taking my hand and leading me out into the hall and to my door. He takes the new keys from me and unlocks the door. Then he opens it and takes my hand once more and steps inside.

  He closes the door behind us and I stand motionless as I look around at the disorderly mess of my living room. And I suddenly can’t stop the tears from falling. I remember the gut-wrenching fear as I struggled with my attacker around my living room, the scenes of yesterday’s assault bombarding my mind. A strangled sob escapes my lips and Josh takes me into his arms once more.

  “Hush, baby,” he whispers as he holds me. “Hey … Sam, look at me.” Gently, he takes my face into his hands and I look up into his bright blue eyes. “It’s over, baby. And I am right here. You’re safe.”

  “I’m sorry. I know that I’m being silly,” I whisper.

  “Baby, you’re not being silly. You went through hell yesterday; you have every right to get upset being back here. But you are not alone. I’m right here with you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he says softly and kisses my forehead again. “Let’s get your things so we can get you out of here, all right?”

  I nod silently and he wraps his arm around me once more and walks me slowly through the shattered glass and debris that’s strewn about the living room floor as we make our way across the hall and into my bedroom. It’s a small relief to be in here, away from the blaring reminders of yesterday.

  “Do you have a suitcase?”

  I nod again and I step over to my closet and walk inside. Moving to the back, I pull out a few more pieces of my Luis Vuitton luggage set – a large duffle bag, a rolling suitcase, and a large garment bag. I bring them out and set each one on the bed and Josh looks at me with raised eyebrows and then a slow smile.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” he smiles at me. “How can I help?”

  “Um … if I pull some dresses or skirts out of the closet, you can put them into the garment bag while I pack other stuff?”

  “Okay,” he agrees and we get to work. I choose several dresses and outfits out of my closet and lay them across the bed. And as Josh begins his task, I move on to my dresser drawers where I pull out several pairs of jeans and leggings and place them into my suitcase along with tops, t-shirts, socks and underwear. Not just the comfortable, everyday, cotton kind but also the lacy, sexy, matching kind, and a few silk nighties. I will be staying with my boyfriend, after all.

  When the suitcase is full, I move on to the duffle bag and pack it full with every sweat outfit I own that isn’t already in the laundry hamper, several pairs of shoes, and other must-have items like my hair dryer and curling iron, my favorite soap, moisturizer and perfume, a few feminine essentials, my cellphone charger, and my iPod and docking station. When I zip up the duffle bag, I go in search of the gray purse I carried yesterday and pull out my favorite dark green, crocodile Birkin – the one Josh returned to me in the hospital – and set about transferring my things from one purse to the other. Once I finish, I look up and Josh is watching me closely.

  “You got everything?” he says, smirking at me, and I think he’s being sarcastic. I frown at him.

  “You think I packed a lot?” I ask softly, my voice sounding slightly worried.

  He chuckles at me. “I’m just teasing you, Sam. But seriously … do you have everything? I don’t know about you but, I’m really starving. We should eat.”

  I smile at him, feeling relieved that he doesn’t think I’m trying to move in with him permanently. Although that sounds like a mighty fine idea to me right now. “Yes, I’m hungry too.”

  “Then let’s go,” he says softly. “If you’ve forgotten something, we can always come back for it later.” He takes the closed garment bag in his left hand and walks around to where I stand on the other side of the bed and takes up the duffle bag, slinging the strap over his right shoulder. “Can you get that?” he asks, motioning to the rolling suitcase, and I nod as I pull up the handle and pull it behind me. I grab my MacBook Pro laptop, my iPad, and my purse on the way out of the bedroom and he follows after me.

  I stop in the hallway and he looks at me with a puzzled expression. “What is it, Sam?”

  I glance over at the steps leading up to my studio and feel a pang of regret. I wish that I could pack up the entire space and take it with me. But for now, I know that I will have to settle for just a few things. “I want to grab a sketchbook and some pencils.”

  “Okay. Do you need some help?”

  “No. I’ll just be a minute,” I say as I abandon the rolling suitcase and leave it and Josh in the hallway. I run up the steps to the studio and over to my collection of graphite pencils, hastily placing them into their carrying case. Then I grab my sketchbook and hurry back down the stairs. I rush back into my bedroom closet and grab the Luis Vuitton tote bag that goes with my luggage set, and place the laptop, the iPad, the sketchbook and the pencil set inside and then hustle back out to the hallway. “Okay. Now I’m ready.”

  “Are you sure?” Josh asks, smiling at me. “You don’t want to pack the fridge or the kitchen sink maybe?”

  “No,” I sigh sheepishly. “I’m ready.” He’s silent as he stands and smiles at me, shaking his head slightly, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Then he rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around my waist.

  “Let’s go,” he says softly, and kisses the top of my head.

  We make our way down to the lobby then, and I’m met with the sad faces of Mr. Nelson and the doorman as we head through the lobby and out the front door. I stand by as Josh loads my bags into the trunk of the Charger, and then he opens the passenger door for me and I get in. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief as I wait for him to start up the car.

  “Where would you like to eat?” he asks me.

  “Hmm…,” I think for a moment. I am really hungry. I can’t believe we haven’t eaten all day, what have we been doing? And then images of all the sexing and the talking and the telling Josh that I love him play quickl
y through my mind like little snapshots. Not to mention napping and having passive-aggressive phone conversations with my mother. Yes, it has indeed been a very full day. I could use some more comfort food right now. Pasta! “Have you ever been to Spinelli’s?” I ask him.

  “Spinelli’s? In Capitol Hill?”

  “Yes. Do you like it?”

  “Uh … I’ve never actually eaten there,” he answers, and I get the feeling he wants to say more but he doesn’t.

  “They have the most wonderful Italian, and the atmosphere is nice, sort of rustic and romantic.” He looks at me for a beat and again, I get the feeling he wants to say something, but he keeps quiet. Slowly, he pulls out of the parking lot and we head off toward Capitol Hill.

  He is quiet on the ride over and I wonder if something is bothering him. Maybe he was only half joking when he made those comments about me packing a lot of stuff. Maybe he’s nervous about letting me stay at his place. Maybe I should check into a hotel instead or see if I can stay with Lucas or Meg. I don’t want this to cause any problems between us.

  “Josh, are you sure it’s okay that I stay with you for a while?” I ask timidly. He looks at me and frowns slightly before turning back to the road.

  “Yes, baby,” he says, reaching over and taking my hand, glancing at me once more. “I told you; you can stay with me for as long as you like, Sam.” Now stopped at a red light, he looks over at me and squeezes my hand. “You don’t want to stay with me?” He looks puzzled, and if I didn’t know any better, I would say a little hurt. He really does want me to stay! The revelation makes my heart soar, but now I’m more than curious about what’s on his mind. If it’s not nervousness about me staying with him, then what is it?

  “Yes. I do want to stay with you. I just thought … I mean, I don’t want to impose.”

  “You are not imposing, Samantha,” he says, looking deeply into my eyes. His voice is earnest as he studies my face. “I want you to stay,” he says, letting go of my hand and reaching up to caress my face. “All right?”

  I nod, smiling shyly at him. “Okay,” I whisper, biting my bottom lip, and he smiles at me. He takes my hand as he turns back to the road again, lightly running his thumb over my knuckles, and continues to hold it all the way to the restaurant.

  It’s roughly six in the evening now and the restaurant is fairly busy when Josh and I step inside. There are quite a few people waiting to be seated and he holds my hand as we venture up to the hostess.

  “Name?” The bottled blonde asks without even looking up at us as she examines her reservations list. It suddenly dawns on me that I didn’t even think about reservations. No wonder there are so many people waiting to be seated. I am starving, but I guess we’ll just have to wait. I hate using my family name to get a table. It just seems so pretentious somehow.

  “Uh, we don’t have a reservation,” Josh begins.

  “It’s about an hour wait for walk-ins right now,” the hostess says, finally looking up. When she gets a look at Josh her eyes just about bug out of her head. “Um, what name did you want to give?” she asks, blushing all over herself and licking her lips as she smiles enticingly at him. Go get your own yummy detective, bitch! I think the lack of food has made my subconscious a little testy.

  “Colby,” I speak up, my voice sounding slightly irritated as I glare at her. “Samantha Colby.” She looks at me blankly for a second and then she blinks, embarrassed I think.

  “Miss Colby, good evening!” A second hostess, a gorgeous African American girl with long braids greets me and shoots a scathing look at her blonde counterpart. “Table for two?”

  “Yes, please,” I smile apologetically at her. “I am so sorry, we don’t have a reservation.”

  “Nonsense. We always have a table for you, ma’am,” she smiles at me. “Right this way, please.”

  Josh relinquishes my hand and we follow after the hostess, who leads us to a secluded table in the corner of the small dining area. It’s perfect.

  “Will this be alright?” the hostess asks.

  “It’s lovely, thank you again.”

  “Thank you for dining with us, Miss Colby. Your waitress will be right over.

  I move to take the seat against the wall and Josh stops me. “Let me sit there,” he says, pulling out the opposite chair for me. I give him a puzzled smile but, do as he asks and take the seat he’s offering. He pushes in my chair and sits down across from me and glances around anxiously.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” he answers, but I’m not convinced. He glances around once more and scratches his chin. Then he opens the menu and starts to look over it. I open my menu as well, but I can’t help peeking up at him over the top of it. I can see that his jaw is tight, and he has that sort of pissed off look he gets when his temper is running rampant. He’s angry, but I have no idea why. Is he mad at me? Oh, will I ever learn to read his moods?

  Tentatively, I reach out and place my hand on his, wanting to connect with him somehow. But when he looks up at me, his usually bright blue eyes are shadowed like storm clouds and it startles me. He holds my gaze for a moment, saying nothing and I can see his jaw clenching. Shit. What did I do? He looks away when the waitress comes and fills our water glasses.

  “Can I get you both a glass of wine or something from the bar?” she asks politely.

  “I’ll have a white wine spritzer, please,” I say a bit nervously.

  “Do you have Corona?” Josh asks, looking up at the waitress who is smiling as she drinks him in.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “A bottle with lime, please,” he says, ignoring her fluttering eyelashes. She walks away, dejected and he sighs, looking back at the menu.

  I close my menu and stare helplessly down at the wooden table. I don’t even know what I’ve done. “Josh, please tell me what I did or said that upset you,” I whisper, looking at him nervously. He closes his eyes and exhales for a moment, and then he finally looks at me.

  “I’m not upset with you, Sam,” he says, looking me in the eye. “I’m just trying to remember that we grew up differently, that’s all.”

  His words make no sense to me. Remember that we grew up differently? What? “I’m not sure what you mean,” I tell him honestly.

  “It’s not important,” he mumbles. But I get the feeling that it is important. I stare at him mutely, and I know that I’m wearing a puzzled expression. It is so exhausting trying to figure him out sometimes. He cocks his head and looks at me, a slight frown marring his much too handsome face, and then he slowly glances around the dining room at the other patrons. “I’m just feeling a little underdressed, Sam,” he says by way of explanation.

  I look around the restaurant and my brow furrows. “Why? This isn’t a jacket and tie kind of place.”

  “It’s a figure of speech, baby,” he smirks sadly as the waitress comes back with our drinks.

  “Ready to order?” she asks attentively.

  He holds out his hand, indicating for me to order first, and I look away from him, still puzzled. “Yes. I’ll have the chicory and rabbit salad and the pasta with butter and sage.”

  “And for you, sir?” she asks, looking at Josh with a dreamy expression. It makes me happy that he seems oblivious to the attention women pay him.

  “I’ll have the same,” he responds, never taking his eyes off me, and I wonder what he’s thinking. He’s being cryptic again and it’s so frustrating.

  The waitress takes our menus and walks away, and Josh is still eyeing me with an intense gaze. I want to ask him what he meant by the underdressed comment but, I decide to let it go. I simply don’t have the mental vigor right now to pursue it. I just want to have a good meal and unwind. I take a deep breath and sip my spritzer, watching him closely.

  He leans forward and takes my hand in his, looking into my eyes, and it’s so intense that I have to sit my glass down and give him my full attention. He holds my gaze as his hand plays with mine, our fingers slowly lacing and interl
ocking. His blue eyes flash at me like lightening and the expression on his face makes me want to burst into flames. He is so hot. And, without warning, he gently pulls my hand to his lips and lightly kisses my knuckles. I melt. He is so romantic sometimes.

  We spend most of our time waiting for our food in silence as we hold hands, playing with each other’s fingers, and staring into each other’s eyes. We simply sit quietly and get lost in each other, studying one another’s faces and smiling shyly, taking full advantage of the restaurant’s soft romantic lighting. And I’m happy that Josh’s temper seems to have receded into the background.

  When our food arrives we begin to chat as we eat, and Josh asks me all sorts of questions about my dad. He wants to know more about the Daddy Dates we used to go on, and what my dad was like, and how he and my Uncle Kenny got along, and how he and my mother met. I get the feeling he’s trying to get to know him for some reason, and it makes me feel good. But I also sense that he’s maybe wondering what it was like to grow up with a loving, doting father, and that thought saddens me a little.

  After our meal, we share a chocolate mousse for dessert. They bring us two spoons but, I don’t use mine at all, as Josh feeds me with his. It’s very sexy, and I can’t help but blush as I wonder what it would be like to smear this mousse all over him and slowly lick it off. Talk about yummy!

  When the waitress sets the bill down on our table, I think I see a nervous glint in Josh’s eyes as he pulls out his wallet. And suddenly it hits me like a ton of bricks – Josh’s earlier comments about feeling underdressed and he and I growing up differently. Even his slight hesitation when I suggested this restaurant. It all makes sense now and I feel silly for not figuring it out sooner. I don’t want him to worry about the money.

  “I can get it,” I say innocently as I reach for the check.

  His hand comes slamming quietly down over the bill, and when I look up at him he is eyeing me with barely contained fury. Oh, shit.

  “No, you won’t.” The quiet words are uttered through clenched teeth and his expression tells me that he’s pissed. I move my hand immediately, looking down at the table as I bite my bottom lip nervously. He pulls out his credit card and hands it to the waitress.