Page 27 of Dear John

“Christ…I’m sorry. I just want to keep you safe.” He tugged me into his arms and I tried to relax at his touch, but I was suffocating. Between the nightmares and the feeling of being watched today, the last thing I needed was an army of men at my door, reminding me that anything could happen at any moment. I just wanted this to be over.

Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them away. I didn’t want him to see me crying. “I don’t want this, Kavanaugh. I can’t?—”

“I know,” he sighed.

“I need my life back. All of this bullshit has to stop.” I stepped back, making him really see me. “That includes you putting men on me.”

“I don’t have anyone on you.”

I shot him a disbelieving look. “Then do you want to tell me why Fox was following me around today?”

“I didn’t do that. Where was he?”

“At the grocery store,” I snapped.

He glanced around at the bags piled around the kitchen, then turned his gaze on me. I fucked up. “You were at the store.” He narrowed his eyes at me when I didn’t answer. “And then you had them delivered. Why?”

I swallowed hard, taking a step back. “Because—” I looked around desperately for an excuse. Dammit, why was it always so hard to come up with the answers on the spot? “Because I ran into Fox. Isn’t that enough of a reason?”

Ha! That should throw him off.

But Kavanaugh was anything but gullible. He knew there was another reason. I could see it in his eyes. I took another step back and he followed. I felt the counter jab against my hip and winced. I was trapped. He closed in on me, his head quirked to the side in question. “So, you ran into Fox and just decided it would be easier to get groceries delivered.”

“Yep,” I said confidently.

His eyes assessed me, watching for any ticks. Hell, I had a lot of them, and he probably cataloged every single one by now. But that didn’t mean I was going to give in. Even as a kid, when I was backed into a corner, I kept fighting. This was no different. Kavanaugh was trying to draw out my lies so he could pounce and make my life a living hell with added security or suffocate me by watching my every move.

“Why do I not believe you?”

“Because you don’t believe me about anything?” I said, leaning back as much as possible. He took advantage and pressed closer to me, his nose running along my neck. Instead of feeling like he was about to kiss me, it was like the jaws of death were looming. He was about to attack my carotid, and when he did, I would be nothing but a puddle of blood on the floor.

“Why won’t you trust me?” he whispered.

“Because you haven’t given me much reason.” The confession was quiet, but it hit hard, making him sigh heavily, winding his fingers through my hair.

“I wish I could prove to you that I’m on your side, that all I want is to see you safe.”

His warmth washed over me, almost making me give in. I wanted so badly to trust him, but I kept seeing him on TV with that woman. Gorgeous and confident, he stood by her side even though it was only for a few minutes. He kept her from me for weeks. While he was making love to me, she was at home in their apartment. Had anything happened between them?

“I don’t doubt that,” I whimpered as he pressed a soft kiss to the base of my throat.

“You just doubt that I won’t lie to you again.”

When I didn’t immediately answer, he stepped back, leaving me cold and alone. I wrapped my arms around myself, not daring to look into his eyes.

“She was with you—living with you for weeks,” I said, admitting my fears. “I want to believe you when you say nothing happened, but…”

“But what? You think I would actually fuck another woman at the same time as you?”

My eyes slowly rose to meet his. “There are different ways to be intimate with another person.”

“I didn’t kiss her either.”

“That’s not what I meant.” I pursed my lips, not wanting to state my fears out loud.

He shook his head slightly, his eyes lit with confusion. “Isla, nothing happened between us.”

“No deep discussions?” I asked.

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