by Selena Kitt
Truthfully, she hated leaving the house—hell, she hated leaving her bed. The only urge stronger than the desire to sleep was the urge to drown her memories, fears and rage in alcohol induced stupors.
The bearded bartender must have seen her flagging him down after all because he deposited a tall double on her cocktail napkin, taking the empty glass away without saying a word. That suited her fine. She hadn't come to socialize.
Allie squeezed the small lemon garnish into her martini before picking up the tall glass and guzzling over half the hard liquor before the burning in her throat forced her to slam the drink to the marble bar top. Drops of precious alcohol sloshed over the sides of the glass, spilling wastefully. Her buzz intensified, numbing her depression, replacing it with indifference. Anything was better than remembering how fucked up her life was.
She hated how angry she was—at everything and everyone.
She knew her father loved her, but he was smothering her worse than he ever had before, which was saying something. She knew he was frustrated, not knowing how to help her, but he seriously needed to back off.
Her thoughts turned darker. Her kidnapping had shone a spotlight on how shallow her friendships were with the posse of friends she'd thought she could count on. Most girlfriends had slipped quietly away, not wanting to deal with the real drama in Allie's life. Others were blatantly envious of the unwanted attention the daughter of a US Senator got when kidnapped. The worst had been her two closest friends, who'd listened empathetically when she'd returned home and then proceeded to sell the salacious insider information of what had happened in that warehouse in Columbia to the tabloids.
No. That really wasn't the worst. The pain that consumed most of Allison's waking hours was the desertion of Captain Zachary Garrett. She wasn't angry with Zach. He owed her nothing. She knew that. Her anger was with her own inability to let go of her obsession with her hero.
God, she wanted to die of humiliation every time she thought about the dozen long letters she'd written to him, pouring her heart out, sharing details about the nightmares she had about what her life would be like had he not rescued her. She'd been prepared for him to politely reject staying in touch with her. What she hadn't been prepared for was his total silence. He hadn't cared enough to even drop her a text or email. He must think she was a pitiful mess, and he'd be right.
Allison reached for the glass, ready to down the remains of the liquor so she could order the next. The glass had just touched her lips when someone leaned against her back, hard, pressing her body into the bar. Two muscular arms stretched out around her, large tanned hands flat, palms down on the bar trapping her.
Panic. Was she being kidnapped again?
Her eyes flew up to the mirror behind the bar, unprepared to meet the angry green eyes of Zachary Garrett. Was he really here, or was she imagining him again? It wouldn't be the first time she'd conjured him up in an alcoholic haze. Her heart took off, pounding hard against her ribs.
She slammed the glass to the bar in her shock. Zach's eyes didn't leave hers. She held her breath as he reached for the glass, holding it to his nose for a whiff, his right eyebrow lifting disapprovingly.
It wasn't until she heard his voice that she believed he was there. "Vodka? Looks like I'm going to have to start making you drink water again to flush this shit out of your system, too."
He reached out to hand the half full glass to the bartender who was passing by. "Check please. Miss Benson needs to leave."
Allison heard herself gasp for the breath she'd been holding, her body still trying to process the shock of seeing Zach. Her tipsy brain tried to process the reasons he might be there. Was it a coincidence? She highly doubted it. That meant he had sought her out.
He broke their visual connection in the mirror long enough to lower his eyes, raking up and down her body before returning to stare into her eyes. There was fresh anger firing in his gaze.
"You've lost a lot of weight. You have bags under your eyes." He paused briefly before leaning in close so his chest pressed harder against her back—his lips brushed the shell of her ear as he spoke quietly to her alone. "You look like shit, Allie. I didn't rescue you just so you could hurt yourself."
She'd fantasized about him coming for her dozens of times, but not once had she dreamed he'd insult her in the process. Conflicting emotions raged inside. Anger erupted.
"Fuck you, Zach! I don't remember asking for your opinion." She hated the slur of her words brought on by the vodka. She'd had exactly the wrong amount of booze. Enough to make her head hurt and stomach sour, but not nearly enough to forget. She raised her hand to get the bartender's attention, hoping to replace the drink he'd carried away.
Zach spun the swiveling barstool around so fast she got dizzy. He was so close that the smell of his minty breath and masculine soap broke through her senses. She hated the traitorous tears pooling in her eyes, blurring her vision. She wanted to stay angry, not feel relieved to see him. Before she could push him away, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against him. The barstool she was perched on was the perfect height to place her head against his hard chest, her tears spilling onto his black T-shirt.
Her arms hugged him of their own accord, squeezing him so hard he chuckled, angering her more until his arms enveloped her with the same intensity. They clung to each other silently as the chaos pressed around them in the Friday night rush in a popular university bar.
Allison lost track of time, unsure how long they clung to each other, but the appearance of two of her bodyguards on either side of them broke the magical reunion. She knew they had some way of tracking her. She'd changed her purse, jewelry, and even left her cell phone at home. How they knew where she'd gone was a mystery, but she was damned if she was going to let them tear her apart from Zach now that he'd come to her.
She was about to tell them to get lost when her father appeared, stepping next to Zach. Her reactions were sluggish from the alcohol, but when the men all watched her without speaking to each other, Allie figured it out.
This was the ultimate humiliation. Zach hadn't come because he wanted to. He was here because her father had asked him to come. Had asked Zach to take pity on her and throw her a bone of attention.
The room was spinning as her brain swirled the truth around like a tornado. She was going to be sick. She needed to get away from them all—go somewhere where she could think. Somewhere where no one knew her or what she'd been through. Somewhere where she could maybe try to find the old Allison.
Zach wasn't prepared for the hard shove that sent him stumbling backwards. Allison shot off the stool and headed for the door through the growing crowd. It was hard to see through her desperate tears and the pressing bodies overheated her, bile rising in her throat.
Zach caught her from behind as she reached the revolving door. He pressed his body into the too-small wedge of space with her, pressing the door forward until it spit them out into the cool December air.
Allison fought down the bile, pulling him along to the line of decorative planters, arriving in time to deposit the contents of her sour stomach on the small evergreen covered with Christmas lights. Her humiliation was complete as she continued to heave while Zach gathered her long hair, pulling it out of the line of fire and into a makeshift ponytail while comforting her with light pats on her back with the warm palm of his other hand.
She vaguely registered Zach giving orders to her bodyguards to go settle her tab and bring him a bottle of water.
When she started shivering from the cold, Zach released her hair long enough to take his own leather coat off, wrapping her in it. Better than the warmth it provided was being surrounded by his scent. It helped her calm.
When she was able to stand, he had a stick of gum ready for her. "Open up. I'm guessing you might like this."
She followed directions blindly, thankful for the minty taste as she chewed.
Her father was on his cell phone, and less than a minute later his limo pulled up t
o the curb next to their group. As angry as Allie was that Zach had only come because her father had asked him to, she was desperate for more time with him. As he started moving her towards the limo, she struggled to be free. She didn't want to go with her father.
One of her bodyguards held the door open for them and she ground them to a halt. "No. Not yet. I need…" She stopped short. She'd done enough baring of her soul in her letters. She wouldn't beg him to spend time with her.
Zach swung her to face him. His gaze was serious. "It's okay. I'm not leaving you."
He knew she wanted him to stay. Of course he knew. She'd written letters like a lovesick ninny.
Instead of pressing her into the car, he surprised her by getting into the limo first, reaching his hand back to pull her into the car with him. She never even settled into the seat. He didn't let her. Zach pulled her into his lap, holding her against him so she could lay her pounding head on his shoulder. She faced her father, who had crawled in behind them.
The three of them sat silently for several blocks, watching the Georgetown University Friday night pass by only feet outside of the smoky windows sheltering them from prying eyes.
She was afraid to ask where they were taking her. Even in her tipsy state, she knew the men had colluded before they'd arrived together at the bar. No matter how much she turned it around in her head, she couldn't come up with a valid reason for Zach's sudden appearance after all the months of his indifference.
Her father broke the silence, staring out the far window as if he couldn't look her in the eyes as he spoke. "I know you're confused, Allison. I've been so worried about you. My fear for you has made me do some stupid things that I regret."
His words frightened her. Her father was a man in control—of everything and everyone in his life. In the days after the kidnapping, she rarely saw him waver, even when she'd wished he would.
He turned towards her and Zach. She could make out anguish on his face as the streetlights shone in through the tinted windows. Her dad looked up at Zach, taking in how he held her close. She was surprised that the sight appeared to calm her father.
Her dad reached for her hand, linking them briefly before he took a deep breath and broke her heart. "I made sure your letters to Captain Garrett didn't get mailed. I thought it was best to sever all ties between the two of you. That was a mistake. I know that now. I have apologized to Zachary, and now I'm apologizing to you. All I can say is that I did it out of love."
There was a ringing in her ears. She had to have heard him wrong. Dad had watched her crying night after night, heartbroken that Zach hadn't responded to her pleas for contact. That whole time, he'd known Zach hadn't seen her letters. That whole time… Oh God, what if he'd read them himself?
Her dad knew her well. He answered her unasked question. "No, Allie. I was at least strong enough not to open them. God, I wanted to, though. You'd closed me out. I've never been so torn in my life. I knew those letters held so many answers I needed, but I just couldn't cross that line."
What did all of this mean? She looked up at Zach and saw anger directed at her father. "I read the letters on the plane an hour ago on the flight from Camp Lejeune. Your dad came to apologize to me first and deliver the letters himself."
"You mean you didn't ignore me?"
"No, honey. In fact…" Zach looked up at her dad, fresh anger in his eyes.
"He sent you messages too. I didn't let you see them," her dad admitted.
Rage sprang her out of Zach's arms to tackle her father. Her small fists connected with his chest several times before her dad was able to catch her wrists and subdue her. He had stopped her physical tirade, but nothing could stop the emotional storm that consumed her as she internalized the depth of his betrayal. He had played God with her life. She'd never forgive him. Ever.
Her father's sob cut through her defenses. The senator was crying. She had only witnessed this once before. It had been after her mother's funeral years before. "I'm so sorry, Allie. I swear to you I thought I was doing what was best for you. It was wrong. I see that now."
She had no words. She couldn't think, let alone speak. She pulled away from the man who had given her life as if he were the devil. She rushed back into Zach's arms, holding on to him for comfort as she turned her father's words around in her heart.
A heavy silence filled the luxury car as they drove through the upscale Virginian suburbs, finally pulling into the circular driveway of her house. Allison panicked. She couldn't lose Zach again so soon. She wasn't as naïve as her father thought she was. She knew she and Zach didn't have a chance at any long term relationship, but she couldn't shake the feeling that he was the key to helping her deal with the aftermath of the kidnapping. He'd been there. He'd witnessed all she'd gone through. He was the only one who could understand. She wasn't ready to let him go yet.
Her father's voice cracked as he placed his hand on the door latch. "You could come inside. I swear to you…"
Zach cut him off. "We had a deal, sir."
Allison didn't understand. Her dad turned to her, placing his palm on her cheek before he leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. "I love you, Allison. Please come home to me when you're ready."
What was he talking about? She didn't get a chance to ask him. Her dad turned and stepped out of the limo, closing the door behind him, leaving her and Zach alone for the first time since they were in the forest together four months before.
As the limo started moving away from her home, Allison turned to Zach, looking for answers. "What's happening?"
Zach reached out to tuck her long hair behind her ear, strumming his thumb against her cheek softly. "I made reservations at a hotel. I'd planned to whisk you away there to hide out and reconnect, but now that the plan is in motion, I realize I've done exactly the same thing to you that the kidnappers did first, and then your father. None of us have the right to take you away without your permission. So, Allison Benson, you are in control. If you want to stay at your house with your father, I'll have the driver turn us around. If you want to go somewhere by yourself to get away from all of us, I'll understand. But, well… I'd like the chance to spend at least the next few days together. We have a lot to catch up on." He waited patiently. He really was giving her a choice. Didn't he know? That there was only one place she wanted to be?
Allie closed her eyes, a surge of adrenaline pumping through her veins because of their proximity and privacy. She leaned in, connecting their foreheads as she whispered her answer. "I want to go wherever you are going. Don't leave me—at least not yet."
His arms hugged her closer. "You just try to get rid of me, Allie."
Chapter Seven
It was midnight by the time they stepped into their suite at the Hyatt. Zach had begrudgingly accepted the senator's generous offer to make the pre-paid reservations at the upscale hotel. He knew Allie's dad had done it to maintain control over his daughter, but Zach had liked the idea of them having a spacious room where she could get some privacy if she needed it.
He was alarmed at how much weight she'd lost. She seemed more fragile than ever and, not for the first time, he thought about how tricky it was going to be to connect with Allison in her current emotional state.
The sound of the heavy door closing behind them startled Allison. She stopped in the middle of the room, glancing back at him, worry and uncertainty clouding her already alcohol-confused expression. Zach wanted nothing more than to erase the pain she was in—pain deeper than the skin-deep injuries she'd carried the last time he'd seen her. Her wounds had turned internal.
He'd only had time to skim her letters on the plane up to DC from his base. They'd given him a glimpse into the complicated young woman in front of him. They'd also shone a bright spotlight on how little they knew each other. For all intents and purposes, they were strangers with only a few short hours of an intense experience to precariously link them.
I sure as hell hope you know what you're doing here, sport.
"I think the fi
rst order of business is for you to grab a hot shower."
Allison smirked shyly. "And I think the first order of business is to brush my teeth. I feel gross after…"
Zach chuckled. "After you tossed your cookies in downtown Georgetown?"
Her blush was adorable. Christ, she looked so young as she peered at him with her doe eyes. If he hadn't witnessed the aftermath of her time in the Columbian warehouse, he'd swear she was an innocent.
He pushed down a wave of dread that he was going to hurt her more than anyone else had before him. What the hell made him think he could help her? He was a love 'em and leave 'em kinda guy, and Allie deserved someone who'd stand by her through all of the bullshit happening in her life.
She must have picked up on his apprehension because her smile slipped, replaced with an embarrassed frown. He wanted her smile back.
"Let's go explore, shall we?" He kept his voice light.
The suite was huge. It would set her father back a pretty penny. The first door they came to was a bedroom with two queen beds. Zach chuckled when he realized her dad actually thought they might sleep in separate beds. Allison's smile was back, and he knew she was thinking the same thing.
They crossed back through the living space with a seating area around a large screen TV and past a dining table that would seat eight through the door on the other side of the suite.
He'd expected to find a bathroom. Instead he found another bedroom, this one with one king bed.
So, her father actually thought they'd sleep in different rooms. He stopped in the doorway, but Allison pushed through to plop on top of the bed, staking her claim.
Zach moved farther into the room, crossing to the ensuite bathroom that sported a huge shower with room for two and a sunken whirlpool tub. He felt like a bastard imagining himself with a naked Allie in each of them.
But this wasn't one of his normal one-night-stands, where he got to defile his date until dawn and then sneak out before she woke up. Whether she knew it or not, Allison needed him to be her friend more than she needed him to be her lover.