Red hot mortification holds my words hostage, stored in a cage somewhere between my throat and hell.Did he—no, he didn’t.Yes he did, he just said he could smell me.Am I?Wet?No, I’m not.I just came out of therapy and nowhere near aroused, definitely not here.Does that mean he could at the event?
Oh.
My.
God.
In shock, I shove him away and retreat several steps.Confusion settles over his features, making his fuller brows pinch together then relax as a grin spreads across his face, stretching the stubble at the corners of a mouth I shouldn’t want.
“You alright, Sunshine?”
“Do… do NOT talk to me.”
Nervous and embarrassed to high heaven, my hands tremble as they lift my hood and drape it over my crown.I cram my long hair into the hood to conceal it, preparing to shove my head into sand and forget this conversation actually happened.
“Truck’s around the corner.Let me take you home.”
“What did I just say about talking!”Yanking the strings of my hood, it cinches over my face, hiding me away.
This motherfucker has the audacity to laugh at me.First, he brought up… good God, I don’t want to repeat it, but now he’s laughing.That’s it; I’m no longer happy with him, he’s going on my shit list—all three top rankings.I’m getting on the Internet and looking for every black magic curse I can find: chicken pox, intestines coming out of both ends, his eyeballs exploding, allergic to oxygen—whatever it takes.
“Come on, Sunshine,” he rumbles close to my left ear, taking my elbow into his hand and leading the way.Not once does he tell me to lower my hood—if he does, I’ll headbutt him.
“Sorry for embarrassing you.”
I’m not replying, it’s a trap.He’s trying to draw me out to gloat at how red my face is, and to mortify me more.I may not have had anyone to play with growing up, but if I can’t see him then he can’t see me—this I know!
There’s a honk, followed by a low growl as an engine starts.It’s not loud enough to be a muscle car, nor fast like imports, nor does it have that V6 eco purr newer trucks do.I feel like I’m about to climb into a van that has ‘free candy’ sprayed on the side and with someone who’s bound to make me disappear.
An older, military trained, salt-and-pepper haired kidnapper with teeth all the better to eat me with.
Fucking hell.
Chapter eight
Sunshine
Iwasoutofthe door and sprinting into my building before Elias could get a leg out of his Tonka truck.I’ve since locked myself inside, barred the doors as if there’s a zombie apocalypse and two deadbolts are going to keep the undead at bay.
Took me all night to forget about what he said.Unfortunately, it sneaks up every few hours.Even now, as I sit in class.Professor Jacobson is in his element today, discussing the final topic of the year—adverse reactions in the field of psychology.Our assignments are due for this subject in four days, then we begin finalizing our term papers—praying we’ve passed.
Earlier in the semester I selected my thesis and have worked on it little by little since then, tailoring it to each of our weekly learnings and chapters.It shouldn’t take me more than an evening to polish it and format it correctly.My problem?Getting through this last segment because I can’t concentrate to save my damn life.
Against my will, Liz continues planting flashbacks from Dad’s event and my appointment in the middle of my skull.They make my heart rate increase and my ears flush at the memory of what Elias said to me.How mind-boggling his fingers felt when they teased my vertebrae on their ascent, leading to his conviction and the delicious way he said ‘mine.’
Surely, he is mistaken.There’s nothing tying us together other than a job and a love-hate relationship with my dad.Reminds me of thatGrumpy Old Menmovie—always fighting but becoming friends in the end.
Psychologically, they’re set in their ways and not apt to change unless there’s a positive or negative outside force.They’ll remain as is until they pass away, whether they choose to be friends or not.
Now, the development between us?I don’t know if I want it, not because I don’t enjoy his company—I always have—but it would ruin the fragile existence with my dad.It’s just an infatuation.Elias has followed me for years, kept me sane and safe which led to the establishment of emotional bonds.I have a hard enough time trying to decipher my own volatile feelings; throwing his into the mix would be a fucking mess.
Besides, he’s my friend.I don’t want to lose that.He’s the only one who doesn’t judge me even after Kate attacked him, and he’s seen me at my worst.
After the event, I read through his last text messages—over and over—hoping to find nothing, but there’s something there.It’s hidden in the rhetorical tone, the questions and words slipped inside to explain not only what he sees me struggling through, but how he views me in whole.
Klingon
I can’t.I won’t.I found you when you were a shell of the young woman you are now.There was no way in hell I was letting you return to a life where you may be hurt again.I trust your parents to keep you safe but there will be times where they’re not there, but trust me when I say, I will.
