I close the door and Denham rattles the handle to make sure it’s shut properly, then hugs me tightly, exhaling deeply and kissing me on the forehead.
We enter his apartment to find Tara has made herself very comfortable on the couch. “What is up with you guys? Panic much? Relax, you probably just forgot to close it in your haste to get each other’s clothes off.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be, sis?” Denham grumbles through gritted teeth.
“Nope,” she says, checking her watch. “Not for, like, an hour.” She smiles smugly. “Anyway, I want to get to know the woman that you deemed good enough to bring up here.”
“Tara …” he warns.
“Ah, don’t give me your big brother warning tone, D. You don’t scare me. Do me a favor and grab me another beer while you’rethere, get Ari one too. Us girls can get to know one another while you make yourself busy with the washing up or something.”
Oh, she has him wrapped around her little finger. She’s so straight talking, and I instantly like her. She reminds me very much of Lottie—shoots straight from the hip and makes no apologies for it. She winks in my direction but keeps a straight face.
“Tara,” Denham says exasperatedly. “You come in here, interrupt us, then order me to get you beer. And how do you know that Arianna even likes beer?”
“Because, sweet brother, any woman who has good enough taste to spend time with my brother will happily drink beer with me.” She smiles sweetly. I see from the twinkle in her eye that she loves to wind him up, and I also think if she hadn’t walked in at the exact moment that she did, he would be enjoying the banter. But right now he’s a little tense. She does have a carefree, calming effect on him though and regardless of the panic that moved through both of us, I can see that he’s starting to relax. He grabs two beers from the fridge and pops the caps. I take them from him and whisper a thank you, kissing him on the cheek.
“You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want to,” he reassures me.
“It’s fine, just go do the washing up or something,” I quip, turning before he can say something back. I start to walk away, but he catches me on the ass with the flick of a hand towel before I can move very far which makes me yelp. Tara laughs so hard she almost falls off the couch and Denham’s laugh rumbles around the apartment. Just like that, the earlier atmosphere is lifted.
Laughter really is a great cure for anything.
Chapter 18
It’s been a long day emotionally and physically and I’ve been lying awake for ages, even though Denham has drifted off to sleep. He sleeps like your typical man—two seconds and he’s out for the count.
I find myself chuckling about the stories Tara thought would be funny to tell me. Denham, of course, did not find it amusing and pretty much walked her out the door when she started to tell me about the time Denham let her play dress up with him, makeup and all. She never got to finish the story, but I would really like to spend some more time to find out what happened and get to know her a little better. She made sure we exchanged numbers so maybe I’ll grab lunch with her sometime.
The situation with the open door also runs through my mind. Would we have been careless enough to leave it unlocked? Quite possibly. It seems that the rest of the world falls away when we’re together and all that matters is each other. What we feel in that particular moment consumes every part of my being, Denham’s too if I am to believe what he tells me. And I do believehim. It’s crazy given the amount of time we have known each other.
No matter which way I puzzle and try to analyze things, I always come back to the same conclusion. Whatever happens, I’m powerless to the draw, to him and to how he makes me feel. I’m not sure how long I can accept this explanation for the intensity we have, or how long I will just let it happen before my cynical mind tries to find a hidden meaning or agenda, I just have to savor every minute of goodness and forget about the rest.
I study Denham’s profile in the moonlight. Until I slept here, with him, I had always shut out the light, shut out the rest of the world in an attempt to block out reality and pretend, for whatever small amount of time I was allowed, that my dream world was real because, for the most part, it was better than the cold light of reality. But now, as everything else around me is changing, so is this. I’m grateful for the subtle light. I don’t feel the need to shut out the rest of the world as I’m content where I am.
The light touches Denham’s face on all his handsome edges; it highlights his sharp cheekbones and I instinctively trace them with the very tip of my finger, gently so as not to wake him and disturb the very peaceful sleep that he has found. His stubble prickles my finger and I stroke his face along his jaw until I reach his lips, his smooth, soft, full lips that I so badly want to kiss, but I don’t as it would be selfish to wake him no matter how much he would protest to that thought. I could sit and watch him sleeping peacefully all night, but my eyes feel heavy and I figure I’ll have many more nights to watch him sleep.
Instead of running from that thought, I embrace it.
When my mind finally stops racing so fast, and I’m content to just let myself be in a happy place, I lose myself to sleep. Sleep is less than kind to me though, and I’m plagued with dreams and scenarios that have me clutching at the sheets and wondering ifI am in my own personal Hell or an imaginary world. Whichever it is, it’s not somewhere I would willingly venture.
My back hits the rough concrete wall and the breath leaves my body with a whoosh. His fingers grip tightly around my throat, so tight that I try and gasp for air but with each breath his fingers grip tighter and my lungs get smaller. He’s yelling so loudly that the sound hurts my ears and the words blur together as the blood flow slows around my body.
“You stupid bitch! Look at what you made me do! You’re a slut, nothing but a fucking slut!” He spits putrid, stale saliva at me as he throws the vile tirade in my direction. The only part of my body that is functioning properly is my vision, so I see it all. It’s all happening in slow motion, drawing out the agony, making the fear last long enough so that he knows I won’t forget it.
I see the rage…the pure evil in his black eyes.
“You’re gonna learn the hard way. How many times do I have to do this, eh? Do you like being punished, Arianna baby?” Every one of his loaded words stabs me, and my vision narrows as realization hits me that he is going too far.
He’s going to cross the line.
I’m being hurtled toward a black tunnel that’s closing in fast as his fingers pinch tighter with every second that passes. I try to call out one last time, and every last ounce of strength I have in my body is used in this last ditch attempt to make him stop.
But it’s too late.
The darkness takes me…
“It’s okay, Arianna …”
