Page 17 of Twisted Devil

I nodded at the rhetorical question. It sucked, but I was a firm believer that shitty things just happened. I'd seen way more than my fair share of people doing terrible things, and there was no worldly explanation for them. Sometimes, you could do everything right and it still wouldn't be enough.

Chloe stared at me. “I really like you.”

I opened my mouth to return the sentiment, but she shook her head. “It's not some weird case of hero worship or anything. I feel like there was a reason you walked into the coffee shop that morning. There was a reason that you were put into my path. I don't know what it is, and I don't know what will happen between us, if anything. I just…” She trailed off for a second then licked her lips. “I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am that I had the chance to meet you. Even though this past year has been filled with bad memories and experiences, you were the one bright spot in all of that.”

My heart thundered in my chest, and I wondered if she could hear it from where she sat across the table. This woman was killing me with her brutal honesty and openness. “I wish I could take back every bad thing that happened to you,” I said sincerely. “But I'm so glad I met you.”

We spent the next hour learning one another’s preferences—food, music, movies. Everything under the sun. The more I talked with her, the more I liked her. Not that I was surprised by that. I’d known from the first that Chloe was special. Even in the aftermath of her abduction and resulting trial, the inner light that shone from her eyes was still there. It was slightly more wary now… but it was still there. She’d endured hell at the hands of a madman, but she hadn’t allowed him to break her.

Not wanting to end the evening too soon, I ordered coffee for us as well as chocolate cake to share. Over dessert I learned that Chloe was working for a manufacturing company in their customer service department. They allowed her the luxury of working from home, and the situation worked perfectly for her. It wasn’t in her field of study, but she was happy enough at the moment to receive a consistent paycheck.

When I could drag it out no longer, I tipped my head toward the door. “I think they’re trying to close up. Should we head out?”

As if she hadn’t realized it before, she tossed a quick look around the restaurant at the servers cleaning and prepping for the following day. Her cheeks pinked with embarrassment before she turned her gaze back to mine. “I didn’t even notice.”

“Me, either.” I waited until she stood, then followed suit. “I was enjoying myself so much I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

Chloe tossed a smile over her shoulder at me as I settled my hand on her lower back and guided her toward the front door. Tonight had been absolutely amazing. Chloe was quickly becoming a very important part of my life, and I hoped this was only the first of many nights spent together.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHLOE

A comfortable silence settled over us as we drove back to my apartment. But by the time we got inside, my body vibrated with nervous energy. Jason had followed me inside and now stood next to the door, watching me warily. He seemed to sense the shift that had occurred within me but didn’t know exactly what to do about it, if anything.

I wanted to reassure him, wanted to tell him everything was fine. But it wasn’t. Inside, I was a mess. I’d analyzed every minute of our date over and over on the way home, rethinking my responses and wondering if his had been genuine. By the time I walked through the door, I was questioning everything. Mainly, why he wanted to be with me.

“Are you okay?” he ventured cautiously.

He had to think I was a complete nutcase. It'd been a whole year. Why couldn't I move on? I had tried, damn it. I’d gone out on dates, even with just a group of friends. But it was awkward and stilted, and I always felt out of place. I was like an oddity to them, a novelty rather than a person. Most people saw me as the woman who was abducted and held captive last year. Few of them, if any, cared about who I really was. The only person who treated me like they really cared was Jason.

“I don't know what to do,” I admitted.

His head tipped slightly to one side in question. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t…” I trailed off and tried to put my thoughts into words. “I'm trying so hard just to be normal, but I just… I feel like something’s wrong with me.”

Jason straightened, those dark brown eyes boring into mine. “There is nothing wrong with you.”

I shrugged helplessly. “I'm so tired of people asking me about it. That's always the first thing they ask. Aren't you that girl who escaped? I'm so tired of being that person. I want to be the woman I was before. You want to know why I came to your place yesterday?”

Tears of frustration burned the backs of my eyes, blurring my vision. “I needed someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't judge me.”

“You can come to me anytime,” Jason said quietly.

He held out one hand, and I stared at it for several seconds before sliding my palm into his. A flashback of that day at the hospital hit me, the way he’d stared at me like he wanted so badly to touch me but couldn’t. Tonight was the first time I’d held someone’s hand in more than a year. I didn’t know how I felt about it, to be honest. The idea of allowing someone this close to me again made my heart beat faster, both from exhilaration and terror.

I stared up at him. “I don’t want to be the broken girl anymore.”

His free hand lifted and the backs of his fingers drifted across my cheek before tucking a lock of hair behind my ears. “You're not broken, Chloe. You're the strongest person I know.”

His gaze dropped to my lips, and a strange sensation curled through me. For a moment it felt as if everything had slipped away and I was the old Chloe, confident and carefree. But as quickly as it came, the feeling slipped away.

I wanted him to kiss me, but part of me was terrified. Not of Jason—never of Jason. I knew he would never hurt me. I was scared that, if he got too close, things between us would change. I wanted him to see the woman he’d met a year ago and not look at me with pity or awe as everyone else did, but with desire. Passion. Maybe even more.

“I don't know what to do, Chloe.” His voice was low and full of something. Desire maybe?

“What do you mean?” I had no idea why I was whispering, only that the situation seemed to call for it.

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