Page 22 of Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

7.

Livvy

Thankfully, the shuttle, only half full of happy beachgoers, slams to a stop when, with my arms outstretched in front of me, I stumble into the front end. The driver jumps down and I break apart—I’m talking a major freak-out—in his arms. There’s a swirl of activity. Police. Statements. Photos taken. When it’s done, I can’t go home anymore. He could be waiting for me.

I check into a hotel two towns over. In a big, busy city with lots of people around.

Finally settled, I do what I promised myself I wouldn’t do, but what I’d promised him I would. His phone rings in my ear. “Liv, baby,” Gage answers. And as always when he first talks to me, there’s a smile in his voice.

For a second time in a matter of hours, I crack. Crack wide open. “Gage, I need you.”

Before any more words leave my mouth, I hear him scrambling around. Brothers asking him what’s wrong. Him answering he doesn’t know yet. Then I hear his truck.

“You’re… home now?” I ask, sniffing into the line.

“Not for long. Tell me where I’m headed,” he snaps. He sounds like he’s a second and a half away from losing control. I don’t even think he packed. “Liv, where am I headed?”

“Smithfield. Virginia,” I tell him through my sobs. “No, wait. I’m in Virginia Beach. I couldn’t go home, Gage. He broke in.”

“Who, Liv?” All traces of calmness gone. “Houdini?”

“No.” I try to get control of myself. “M-Michael. He’s st-stalking me.”

“The fuck from the restaurant,” Gage correctly surmises.

“Yes.”

“He hurt you,” again, he correctly surmises.

This one takes me a little more time to answer, but I do. “Yes.”

“Fuck,” he bellows into the line. “God dammit, Liv. God-fucking-dammit.”

It’s not a stretch to discern his meaning. Why did I leave him? Why wouldn’t I let him come to me sooner?

“I don’t know,” I whisper the answer to his unasked questions.

This calms him. “Where in Virginia Beach, baby?”

“The Oceanview Inn.”

“I’m on my way. Don’t open the door for anybody until I get there, understand?”

I owe him that. “Yes.”

“Good, baby. Stay on the line and just talk to me.”

For him, and I guess for me, I stay on the line even through the long stretches of silence where I berate myself for my stupidity at leaving Gage in the first place and then not telling him where to find me. Finally, during these pauses, I start thinking about how Gage deserves so much better.

Each of these times, it’s like he knows exactly what I’m thinking and shuts down those thoughts.

We’re on the phone all throughout the rest of the day and well into the night until he whispers, “What room, baby?”

I get scared and excited all at once. So scared and so excited, I forget to answer.

“Liv, what room?” he asks again.

“Three-oh-seven,” I mumble.

---