This was deja vu.
Abell mumbled, shifting beside me. As if woken by my stare, his eyes opened. The room had darkened, his blue centers like sapphires at the bottom of the sea.
Wait. Where had the sun gone? “Did we fall asleep?” I asked, sitting up. “What time is it?”
“Around six.” He pointed at his bedside clock. “Guess we both needed the rest after... well.” Chuckling at how I squirmed, he slid off of the blankets and grabbed his jeans. “Come on. I'll give you a ride home.”
Together we descended the stairs, shuffling into his Ferrari in the garage. He had been right, it was after six and already the sun had set. Buildings glowed around us, the ever present color of the holidays.
We were both quiet, reflecting on what we had done.
Glancing at him, I said, “We never got to talk.”
“We did plenty of talking.”
“No,” I said, fidgeting. “About... us. What we're doing.”
We rolled under an overhang. As we did, Abell was bathed in pure midnight and rich ink, escaping every fragment of light. “We're getting married. I'm making you my wife. What else is there?”
Love.
I didn't have the guts to say it.
Abell pulled up beside my apartment. He didn't cut the engine; I knew he wasn't coming inside. His hands were glued to the wheel, as if he could never let go.
“Well,” I started to say, reaching for my door handle. “I guess I'll see you.”
In such a small space, so close to him, I sensed his energy shift. Abell twisted, reaching out for me so fast that I was stunned. My head hit the window—not painfully, but enough to make a sound.
Abell's kiss was feverish, born from an ache I understood, but wasn't ready to believe in.
Then it was over; he leaned back, breathing heavily. His eyes darted from mine, to my lips, then out the window. “I... have a good night, Nix. See you around.”
See you around? The guy was forcing himself to be disconnected. “Yeah. See you.” Stepping out of the car, I perched in the middle of the sidewalk and looked around. No wind blew, the air was stale and calm.
The city had an empty, quiet feeling to it. Less like the end of the world, and more like I was living in a cocoon.
Did that make me the caterpillar?
And if so...
When this was over with, what would I emerge as?
- Chapter Twelve -
Abell
I watched her vanish into her apartment, just sitting there in my car and... watching.
What is happening to me?
It was insanity, and I knew it. Pure fucking insanity.
I want her.
More than just for a quick fuck, more than just to hear her moan, though that was glorious in its own right.
What I wanted from Nix was deeper. It pulled at me, as if it were a memory coming to the surface. This woman was creating an ache in me that only got worse the longer I let her scratch it.
Slamming my fist against the steering wheel, I gave a hollow laugh. “I'm losing my mind. My entire fucking mind.”
This thing with Nix had shifted from a method to keep my money—and the loose women—into something so much more. I hadn't wanted it to, I hadn't even dreamed it could!
But here I was, sitting outside her apartment, wishing I could find an excuse to go inside and see her again. Just to look at her face, hear her voice.
Was this what love was?
I revved the engine hard, burning rubber as I floored it away. My fingers went to turn the radio on; the missing knob reminded me of how I'd freaked out weeks ago.
Pushing the eject button, I gingerly slid the CD of rock music out. It felt fragile in my hand. The reflective edge bounced the street lights back at me when I twisted it in the air.
If we hadn't met that night... if we hadn't hooked up...
Would any of this be different?
If I'd met Nix for the first time during that meeting, would it have been easier to close off to her? How funny, to think that a simple fling would become the root of my weakness.
Bristling with too many different emotions, I dropped the CD and ripped out my beaten up pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, I pulled into the garage below my apartment. The buzzing of my phone startled me.
Shoving the cigarette to the corner of my lips, I parked the car and clicked the green button on my cell phone. “Hello?”
“Mr. Birch,” a robotic voice crackled. “Do you have a moment?”
Screwing my eyebrows up, I opened the door, stepping into the garage. “That depends, who's calling?”
“Someone with a message.”
Chuckling, I dropped the cigarette, crushing it with my heel. The tobacco just didn't taste as good as it used to. After having Nix, nothing compared. “A message? Is this a prank?”
The voice hissed with distortion. “More like a warning. Walk away from her, and you'll be compensated. Stay with her, and you'll ruin her life.”
Every fiber of my being locked up. “What?”
“You don't have to marry anyone, you'll be free, and with a million dollars in your pocket. Wouldn't it be nice to be your own man, answering to no one—not even your father?”
“Who the hell is this?” I asked, crushing the phone.
“Think about it. You're broken, and deep down, you know you'll destroy her if you stay with her. Why make both of you unhappy? Decide what you want: the money, or to see her heart become black and ruined by your flaws. And if you tell anyone about this phone call, the deal is off. Tread carefully, Mr. Birch.” There was a sharp click, then my phone went silent.
Holding the device at a distance, I just stared. What the fuck was that? They can't be serious. Fury rattled through my bones, the edges of my phone creaking from the pressure.
Who the fuck would DARE threaten to split up me and Nix?
That woman belonged to me. I'd never harm her.
Yet, somehow, those robotic words rung painfully true.
I'd always believed the world was cruel and terrible. Why was I exempt? Fuck, I knew I wasn't special. I was as selfish as anyone.
Was marrying Nix actually going to wreck her heart? Her life?
What's the point in bribing me? Someone had an agenda. They were trying to tempt me into avoiding the marriage, and I had no clue why.
Was it someone I knew?
My skull hurt from all the questions I had. One of them kept fluttering out front like a giant moth: If this marriage made me happy, but shattered her heart in the long run...
Could I really go through with it?
****
I'd chugged every beer I could find in my apartment.
The bottle of brandy that had been under my sink, too.
Distantly, I knew I was being destructive. These were old habits—or sort of old. It had been barely a month since I'd met Nix, could a man really change himself in that amount of time?
I don't need to change.
I never could have, anyway.
My phone sat on my coffee table. I eyeballed it as I paced. It might as well have been a loaded gun.
Who fucking called me?
What the hell do I do?
Since my mother had died, the only person I'd ever relied on was myself. Nix had started to slip inside my ribs, dangerously close to my heart, but... I couldn't talk to her. Not until I came to some sort of conclusion about what to do.
Marrying her could ruin her.
But running could do the same.
Baring my teeth, I jammed my knuckles into the wall. The plaster exploded; I was lucky as hell I didn't hit a stud. Shaking my hand, ignoring the smear of blood from the broken skin, I took a swig from the empty brandy bottle.