Page 14 of Body

“Exactly.” He nods and smiles.

“Why did you create the Safe Haven Foundation?” It makes no sense why he would create a foundation when it’s obvious he’s in the business of making money, not giving it away.

“I saw a need. I had the capital, and it was important to me.” He shrugs and looks away for the first time this evening. He swirls his wine, then refills his glass and mine with the remaining crimson liquid. I can tell he doesn’t want to go into additional detail. “Tell me about your family, your parents?”

I go cold. The hairs on my forearms rise. “My Mother passed away from cancer a few years back. I don’t really know much about my Father. He was never around. Once in a while he’d send Mom money to help out, but I’ve only seen him a handful of times. Last I heard, he was working construction for a company that traveled from site to site around the nation. I’m an only child. My parents didn’t have siblings, so I don’t have extended family either.”

He looks at me to gauge my emotions. “I’m sorry.” His hand covers mine and he brings it to his lips and kisses it. It’s an old fashioned gesture for a man so young. It almost lets me forget why I’m here. A deep ache settles into my gut and sets it churning the wine there. I pull my hand away and prepare to stop this pseudo date right here. I have to tell him that we can’t continue to see each other.

Behind me, a sultry voice calls Chase’s name. “Mr. Davis! Fancy seeing you here.” The woman has a thick Puerto Rican accent. She circles around me, insinuating herself between Chase and I. She slides one small hand up Chase’s forearm to his shoulder. Miss Puerto Rico is long, lean, and all mocha colored, satiny looking skin. She’s wearing a slinky swath of a dress that barely covers her ass. It’s fuchsia with little glittering beads all over it. Two diamond strings run around her neck, holding the tiny garment up. With little effort, she brings her body to Chase’s and boldly, hangs both arms over his shoulders, grasping his neck. “Where have you been all my life?” Chase looks shocked to see her, but doesn’t immediately pull away. Even if this is a casual date or drinks, the woman is rude. Fawning all over a man I was sitting intimately close to is disgusting and pisses me off!

“Tatiana? I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I thought you were in Peru?” He puts his hands around her waist, maybe to move her, maybe to bring her closer. I don’t know, and right now, I don’t care. I watch with sick fascination as the woman practically rubs her body along the juncture between his thighs. He grips her hips, and I want to vomit. Getting the hell out of here is the only thing I can think of. Moving from the opposite side of my chair, I try not to jostle the tanned bimbo rubbing his lap.

I’ve had enough when her hand slides down his chest several times in a very lover-esque manner. Quickly, I turn my chair to the side and slip off. I pull my purse onto my shoulder and take a few steps away from the scene unfolding in front of me.

“I have to go, Chase.” His head snaps up. “I was just going to tell you that this thing between us…” I flip my hand at him as his eyes shoot from the girl hanging all over him to me. Ms. Puerto Rico grins and winks at me. “…it won’t work out. You’re my boss. End of story.” He looks shocked, and his jaw drops.

The leggy brunette sidles in closer and kisses his neck. That’s it. I’ve had enough. I turn on a heel and beat feet out of the bar.

“Gillian, wait!” he calls.

I chance a glance back and find the brunette is kissing him. Ridiculous. Invite me out on a date and kiss and rub all over another woman? Good riddance. I don’t need him or his distracting beautiful body trying to sway me into being another one of his bimbos. I dart from the bar and to the elevators as quick as my heels will take me. I hear Chase yell my name as the elevator doors close.

In what world does a sex kitten climb her way up a man who is clearly on a date with another woman? A world I’m not meant for. One that involves incredibly good looking, rich men, who own swanky bars, limousines, and have linebackers as drivers. Before the bimbo broke the trance, I was actually having a really nice time. Even started to believe that he was genuinely interested in getting to know me.So stupid!It’s for the best. So why do I feel like my heart was ripped out and served to me on a platter? That’s insanity or maybe lust talking. The door of the elevator opens and I step out and collide with Jack.

“Get the hell out of my way,” I grate through my teeth and rush toward the buildings doors.

“Miss Callahan. Mr. Davis has asked me to detain you.” He grabs my arm but I yank it out of his grasp so fast he steps back.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I run out the door and down the street. My strides are long, my skirt bunches up with each step. After several minutes of running, my lungs are on fire, heart jackhammering in my chest. A piercing ache throbs just under my ribs. Coming to a screeching halt, I suck down precious air and try to calm down. Large heaping breaths rack me as I try to gain back control. Stupid men. I should go back there and thank the slut for saving me from heartache down the road. The phone in my blazer’s pocket buzzes angrily. It’s Chase. I hit the “talk” button and bring it to my ear, not waiting for him to speak.

“You don’t have to apologize or answer for anything. Enjoy your real date!” The shrill tone surprises even me as I hang up on him. Immediately the phone rings again and I ignore it. It keeps ringing and ringing until I smash the power button and turn the damn thing off.

In my desire to bolt, I wasn’t paying attention, just following the need to get away.To escape.The darkened section of the city I’ve found myself in isn’t exactly appealing. Why the hell do I always get myself in these situations? Did I do something to someone in a past life to have such crummy karma? Glancing around the dark street, I realize I’m lost. Running blindly in varying directions so that I wouldn’t be followed seemed like a great plan at the time. Now, not so much.

Ahead, a streetlamp illuminates a small area and looks like the best place to stop and call a cab. Pressing zero on the phone, I get the operator. The woman is helpful, and I look up at the street sign to tell her where I’m stranded. She connects me to a cab company that assures me they will pick me up in fifteen minutes.

This night went from good, to bad, to worse in what seemed like a nanosecond. The thought of having to sit in the same room with Chase tomorrow at the meeting, knowing what he and Tatiana are going to do all night makes me want to hurl. I place my phone in my pocket and lean against the chain link fence behind me to rifle through my purse. Maybe I can find a loose hair-tie and get the sweaty hair off my neck. Crazy ending to what started out to be an amazing day.

Crunching leaves and the sound of footsteps behind me makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. Without warning, a large hand comes around my neck and pulls me against the fence. The metal digs into my back as my feet flail and kick out. Reflexively, I use both hands to yank at the hand restricting my breath, but it won’t budge.

“You fucking scream, bitch, and I’ll kill you,” says a man’s voice next to my ear. The stench of sweat mixed with cigarettes is revolting. My body stiffens and trembles. Instantly, I’m taken back to a memory of when Justin would hold me down. I remember the glazed faraway look in his eyes right before he’d strike. Panic rips through my chest and fear takes over my defenses. The attacker’s voice rips through all thoughts, “You listen to me, you little cunt. Hand me your purse now, and I won’t kill you.”

The cold, hard steel of a gun presses against my skull as his other hand squeezes the tender skin at my neck, cutting off all air. I gag and choke at the vice-like grip around my throat. Oh God, please no!

“Okay, okay. Whatever you want,” I’m barely able to get out through his snake like constriction on my neck, preventing much sound.

His hand grips my neck like a steel claw, nails digging in, piercing the flesh. I feel blood pool and drip down my neck in small little streams like the legs of red wine, dancing along a swirled glass. Pain sears through my neck and chest, black and white stars pop in my peripheral vision like flashes of a camera lens. I’m going to die. I remember the feeling all too well when Justin left me on the cold hard floor of our apartment a few years ago to bleed out.

“You can have whatever you want, please!” A choked, raspy sob spills from my lungs. I hold up my purse and the man squeezes the tender flesh of my neck so tight I can’t breathe. “Good bitch!” he says from over my shoulder. He snatches the purse from my hand.

He lets my neck go long enough for a blood curdling scream to roar through the empty street just as his hand strikes my face with the hard metal of his gun. The world goes black.

***

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Someone turn off the alarm. The beeping continues like Chinese water torture against the frayed edges of consciousness. My eyelashes are heavy and hard to open. It’s as if the lashes are weighed down by tiny manacles holding onto each strand. The sickening smell of bleach and antiseptic fills the air. A hammer knocks against my forehead.Bam. Bam. Bam

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