I snatched a few moments peace and lay back on the bed, feeling my body sink into the soft black silk bedspread, plumping up the cushions behind my head and falling into a light doze.
The sound of a door closing startled me awake. I never did much like locked doors, not after Tyler kept me chained to the wall and locked up in his basement for one-hundred-and-eighty days, but coming to and finding a man in my bedroom, leering over me was terrifying.
‘What the fuck are you doing?’
‘I didn’t mean to wake you. I left my phone on charge,’ said Blake.
I turned my head and saw the phone, a lead dangling from its side, plugged in. Glancing around the room, my head still foggy with sleep I realized I wasn’t at home. I was in Blake’s apartment.
‘Sorry, I just …’
‘I know.’
No, you don’t know, I wanted to say, but bit my lip. He had no idea what I’d been through. What horrors I had lived with. But he still, should understand not to stand over someone while they’re sleeping.
‘You smile in your sleep.’
‘So bloody what?’
‘It’s sweet,’ he said, turning, knees on the floor to switch off the charger, ‘you really do need to stop swearing, Ezra.’
‘Oh, and what are you going to do about it, turn me over your knee?’
He gave me a warning look, as if that was exactly what he was thinking, but shook his head.
‘I don’t know why you have to keep fighting me.’
‘I’m not fighting.’
‘Biting then. Can’t you see, I’ve given up my morning to take care of you, to keep you safe. The least you could do is be grateful.’
‘I am, I just …’
‘Save it,’ he said, but not unkindly because just then heavy footsteps padded down the hall.
‘What is it?’ I said, noting the flicker of irritation on his face, fleeting, but obvious now I’d grown used to his facial expressions.
He pressed his finger to his lips and I instantly stopped talking.
One of Blake’s friends was keeping an eye on Madison’s apartment. Our building had CCTV and Blake had assigned two security guards downstairs. There was no way anyone could get in without passing them. I hadn’t asked Blake how he could afford to pay for the surveillance team, and I didn’t want to in case I offended him by mentioning money, which I knew he must have had a lot of. Nobody earning a cut above minimum wage could afford to live in such a lavish apartment. I could only do so because of the criminal injury compensation claim the court forced Tyler to pay, which since I’d moved in had run out.
I glanced towards Blake, his phone in his hand as he crept up towards me and whispered, ‘I’ve installed cameras in your flat. There’s someone in there. They’ve triggered a silent alarm which sends a signal to my phone.’
I didn’t bother asking him how and when he’d done it. Instead, I asked, ‘who’s in there?’
He pressed the phone into my shaking hand and I almost fell to the floor.
‘It’s … it’s …’
The last thing I remembered was the fuzzy image of the back of a head. The person responsible for all of this wore a hooded sweatshirt, their face hidden from view. But his frame, his height, matched Tyler’s.
Blake’s arms broke my fall.
When I awoke several minutes later, Blake was behind me, sat on the floor, his arms wrapped around me, cradling me to him. I almost wanted to pretend I hadn’t woken yet just to feel his warm body against mine a little longer.
As he stood up and walked me over to a chair, I had the sudden urge to hug him. Maybe I’d hit my head as I fell. He disappeared then returned seconds later clutching a glass of water, thrusting it towards my mouth, commanding me to sip.
‘The police are on their way.’
I nodded, thankful for his observation, his diligence.
‘What now?’ I said, recovering enough to speak without trembling so much the words sounded like they were coming from a child.
He ignored my question and asked, ‘when was the last time you’d eaten before breakfast?’
‘I can’t remember.’
‘You need to look after yourself.’
He had a point.
‘When I’m stressed I don’t get hungry.’ I knew my excuse wouldn’t wash with him, but I said it anyway.
‘Maybe you should make this a more permanent arrangement. I can send someone else to complete the case I’ve been working on-‘
‘Oh, I can’t let you do that.’
‘That way I can make sure you’re eating and getting enough sleep.’
‘But your sisters killer-‘
‘Not important right now.’
I shook my head, adamant he wasn’t going to take any time off work for me.
‘What are you doing for money at the moment?’
‘I called in sick.’
‘You lied.’
‘No, I …’
‘You lied.’
‘Okay.’
‘You need to tell them the truth. What if he goes there looking for you? You might be putting others in danger. And while you’re at it, being honest I mean, you can explain to me why you’re going by another name, and why you’ve moved so far from your home town.’
‘How do you know …?’
‘I’m ex-military police.’
‘Right.’
‘Who are you running away from?’
‘I’d have thought that was obvious?’
‘Until recently Tyler was in HMP Marshfield’s so why did you run away if not from him?’
I couldn’t answer that. That was between me and my conscience.
‘I can’t help you if you’re not straight with me, and I’m starting to think there’s a lot of things you’ve been keeping from me.’
‘I could say the same for you.’
A knock at the door broke up our little catfight, but I could tell he was still pissed off with me even as the two police officers entered his apartment.
I didn’t owe him an explanation. He knew nothing about me, not really. And it would stay that way. The problem was, even as I thought this, I felt as though I was betraying him. He’d been nothing but the perfect gentleman. He’d taken time out of his own life to ensure my safety. I had to give him credit, he either genuinely cared for me or was obsessed with the cause for justice. I wasn’t sure which, but I knew deep down, on some level, I respected him for it. His determination to see things through turned me on.
He lead the two police officers in through the door. The sight of them ignited memories of the aftermath of being in that rotten basement, torn away from my family and friends, forced to relive everything as I gave the police my statement, and then afterward, the trial and all that followed in therapy. I panicked and a wave of heaving sobs took over me. I was a hot, sobbing mess, in front of two stern-eyed officers of the law and Blake.
He came towards me and wrapped his arms around me. His firm embrace gently soothed me.
I gave the police my phone but they said it was unlikely any examination would lead them to the caller.
‘We’ll send a family liaison officer to your home,’ said the older of the two officers.
‘She’s staying with me,’ said Blake, his authoritative tone stunning even the police.
‘I can see that you’re in capable hands here, Miss DeSilva, but we think you’d be safer away from here. Somewhere-‘
‘I’m not leaving.’
Blake’s expression matched mine. Fearless and intent.
‘Then would you agree to twenty-four-hour police protection, outside?’ said the younger officer, side-stepping his colleague, whilst eyeing me up for signs of vulnerability which in that moment I was sure I was exuding at a magnitude of a thousand litres per second.
‘It’s already in place. I have two security guards across the street this minute. There are two outside her friend’s address as well,’ said Blake.
‘Looks like you’ve thought of everything
,’ said the young officer, feeling his masculinity slip away with every knockback from Blake’s capable replies.
He had a plan. I could see it in his eyes.
‘There is something you could do?’
‘Oh yes?’ said the older officer, feeling wanted at last.
‘You could find him and lock him up.’
I couldn’t help the smile that sprang to my face.
‘We’re doing our best Mr. Strong,’ the officer replied.
Ushering them out of the door, Blake stood a few moments listening to the hustle and bustle beyond the door where less than thirty feet away two more police officers were searching my apartment for signs of Tyler, hoping he’d left a trace. The only thing signifying his moves were the letters, growing more revealing by the day. His most recent was certainly chilling.
How does it feel knowing I was here?
‘He’s getting your attention the only way he knows how,’ said Blake.
When I asked him what he meant he said, ‘he’s impeding on your home, your private world where you feel safe. He wants to violate your personal space, and in doing so he’s relinquishing your power. He wants to be in control.’
‘How do you know this?’
Blake glanced down at the floor to his polished brogues.
‘I’ve known people like him. They like to take over, rendering you incapable of ever feeling secure again.’
He didn’t elaborate on his insight but I got the impression, in that moment, that we were kindred spirits.
What troubles had he seen?
He looked broken sometimes when the glass facade slipped. Was I hoping to save him or expecting him to be mine?
Or could we be each other’s savior?
BLAKE
She looked beautiful when she was asleep. I couldn’t help staring at her. Those soft lips, the golden halo of hair around her head. She looked content. Peaceful. Not at all the emotional wreck she was when she awoke to find me gazing down at her, longing burst through every pore.
When I discovered she hadn’t eaten I took a vow to take care of her. She needed me. She was just too stubborn to admit it. But I had no intention of getting close to her unless she could open up to me. I’d managed to heal my own wounds through a lot of self-analysis. She was still trying to fix hers.
EZRA
That night as I lay beneath the covers of his double bed, breathing in the scent of Blake’s washing powder, the familiar cologne lurking in the air of the brilliant white room, light even in the darkness, the blinds left open giving me a view of the tops of the buildings opposite I felt assured that just several feet away in the adjacent room, Blake slept on the sofa, comatose and peaceful. Whilst I couldn’t stop my fears whirring around in my head-rendering me unable to rest, I wasn’t alone.
A single tear fell down my face as I silently told myself not to let it get to me: that I had to move in with a man I barely knew in order to feel safe enough to sleep. I heard a creek. Footsteps nearing the door. Blake must have sensed my upset because there was a knock on the half-open door before he entered the room.
‘Can’t you sleep?’
‘No.’
I wanted to ask him to stay with me, to curl up beside me on the plush duvet and keep me company until I fell asleep, but the words wouldn’t come. I didn’t know how to explain to him my need for comfort. A longing so great it almost physically hurt. I wanted to feel his arms around me, holding me, protecting me. Just as he’d done when the police came. But to admit it would have meant admitting my vulnerability. A sure sign of weakness that I feared might lead to Blake thinking he owned me.
He moved towards the bed and sat down beside me.
‘You’ve been crying,’ he said, noticing my tear-stained face in the moonlight emanating through the window.
In that moment, his concern made me want to kiss him.
He lifted his hand to wipe my tears away. As he stroked my face, his touch light on my skin, I thought of those hands and what they could do for me, and I choked back a sob that threatened to escape.
‘Shhh, it’s okay.’
He lifted my chin so that I had no option but to look into his tired eyes.
I’d done that to him. I’d worn him down with my problems. I’d forced him from work and upset his neat ordered life.
‘I’m sorry, about everything.’
‘Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.’
Oh, but I had. I’d made some grand mistakes. One of them was to purchase a flat in another woman’s name. Okay my dead mother’s, but it was still illegal. And to run almost two-hundred miles away from my stepfather who’d fed and clothed me, and lent me money I had no intention of paying back six months prior.
I leaned my head against his shoulder. We remained like that for a few moments, gazing into one another’s eyes until he released my chin from his strong fingers. Whatever had passed between us had gone. He rose up from the bed and walked stiffly to the door.
‘Nightcap?’
I said nothing, following him down the hall and into the kitchen, lit by a single set of spotlights above us.
He poured a shot of brandy into a short glass and asked me what I’d like to drink.
‘The same.’
Both seated at the table in silence sipping from our glasses I had the sudden urge to ask him what he’d meant earlier, about people letting you down, but I didn’t want to pry.
‘Cheers.’
He looked at me quizzically.
‘I don’t think our pasts make us who we are,’ he said. ‘We all deserve second chances.’
‘Some people don’t,’ I said, thinking of Tyler.
He glanced down into his empty glass and asked if I’d like a refill.
A while later on the sofa, feeling giddy, my inhibitions lowered from the brandy, I reached out and touched him, cautiously. I wanted to feel his thick hair slide through my fingertips.
‘You don’t want to do that. Not really.’
He pulled my hand away, my wrist gripped firmly in his palm.
‘How do you know what I want? You don’t even know me.’
‘I don’t think you’re in the right place. You shouldn’t do something you might regret.’
‘What makes you think I’d regret it?’
‘I don’t want to play games.’
‘I’m not playing games.’
‘You don’t want to start something, now.’
I’d fantasized about nothing else since we’d met, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
‘Let’s leave it there shall we,’ he said, more a statement than a question.
I was angry with his knockback, but more pissed off with myself for showing my cards too soon. He was only scared in case I bulldozed his perfect, ordered life.
I gathered myself up from the sofa and turned towards the hall, leaving him with a parting note.
‘You’re fucked up.’
‘Aren’t we all.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ I said, running into the bedroom, my chest on fire.
I locked the door behind me and slumped to the floor.
He was the one playing games, not me. He’d invited me to stay, got me tipsy, traced my body with his come-to-bed eyes then told me he wasn’t interested in me. No wonder he was single, I thought. He was as messed up in the head as I.
I stomped my feet on the hardwood floor, not caring for the noise I made as I packed my belongings. When I opened the bedroom door he was stood in front of it.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Back to the flat.’
‘You can’t.’
‘You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do.’
‘The police have left a mess.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘I was going to tidy it up before-‘
‘You’re just coming out with excuses as to why I can’t return home.’
‘Okay.’
‘Okay, what?’
‘Maybe I am.’
‘Maybe I don’t want to see you get hurt.’
‘Right.’
‘Right.’
He stood there, arms folded wearing a look of resignation, but he didn’t move, not even when I pushed him back. He barely flinched as I forced my way around his bulky frame and made it to the door. As my hand gripped the door handle, his hand came out to stop me. ‘You don’t want to do this, you’re just angry.’
‘I’m leaving.’
‘How will I be able to protect you if something happened? I’d never forgive myself.’
‘I’m not your problem.’
‘You made yourself my problem.’
‘Well, maybe I shouldn’t have involved you.’
‘I care for you.’
‘Whatever.’
‘I’m trying to help you.’
‘Help me? All you’re doing is …’
‘I’m looking out for you.’
‘I don’t need looking after.’ But even as I said it, the words didn’t ring true.
‘Call Madison. Stay with her. But please, don’t go back to that apartment.’
‘I’ll do what I bloody well like.’
‘Fine,’ he said, stepping away from the door leaving me room to exit.
But stood in front of the door I couldn’t bring myself to open it. I was being selfish, ungrateful, spoiled even, but only because the thought of being dependent on someone else frightened me. I hated anyone thinking I was weak. I didn’t want him thinking I was in need of protection.
‘Ezra?’
My heart told me to stay, my brain signaled my limbs to move and I walked forward, out of the door without looking back.
Stood in the dark, cool space I’d once called home I shuddered, realizing how stupid I’d been. I hadn’t even brought my bags, leaving them in Blake’s hallway.
I’d collect them in the morning, I thought, knowing I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes again.
The Man I Need (The Man I Need #1) Page 5