Page 41 of Anders and the Girl Worth Fighting For
The interruption was unwelcome, and I silently cursed whoever called and broke through the bubble we had been in. Then I remembered why I was even here and guilt skewered me. It was likely news about my situation.
Judging by how stiff my muscles were, we had been sitting there for far too long. Now that the spell broke, and the world intruded, I realized I needed to stretch — and visit the bathroom. I left him to his phone call, knowing that he would fill me in on whatever he learned. It felt — odd — to have so much trust in a person, like a beautiful dress in a cut I’d never worn before.
I didn’t doubt at all that he would tell me everything. I knew he would ask my opinions and listen to what I had to say. I didn’t realize how much I needed that until I had it. I had been suppressing my need to be heard for so long that I thought it just didn’t exist. I thought I was fine. I was not and now that I knew that, I never wanted to live like that again.
I could hear Anders’ voice low through the walls, but not enough to make out what he said. It was such a soothing sound,and for a moment, I let myself think I would get to hear it forever.
I wasn’t at all the person I pretended to be in the letters. Or maybeat allwas a little too much. I was mostly not that person. Not anymore and probably never was. It wasn’t really fair of me to keep expecting him to want me around when this was all done. Yet, we had moments like we just had, when we were the only people in the world, like when we kissed and there was fire between us, burning away anything that wasn’t each other.
Maybe it was just me, though. Doubt crept in and I struggled to shove it away and lock it behind that door in my mind that held all the bad and painful things. The lock was flimsy, I knew, but it would be enough for the moment because it didn’t matter if it was just me. Not while I was in here, by myself. I could dream for now. I could dream that I was lucky enough and worthy enough for a man like him. I could dream of forever. It didn’t hurt anyone but me and that hurt wasn’t here yet. So, I dreamed. I dreamed as his voice rumbled through the walls.
“Tink found them, the would be kidnappers, not Bill, holed up in some hotel a few miles from here,” Anders said when I got back into the room. He moved around the room collecting items I didn’t even realize we had. “I’m going to put the fear of God into them and hopefully ferret out their boss so I can end this for you.” Gone was the unsure and hurting man of a few moments ago and in his place was a confident and decisive man ready for action that I had first met. It was stunning to see the transformation. I wondered what it cost him to switch so quickly.
This was clearly his business persona. The Marine. The man who knew his work and wasn’t going to waste time pretending anything else. Butterflies took up residence inside me watching him. He handled his gun with practiced ease as he checked it and sheathed it in his shoulder holster and I melted.
If you would have told me three months ago that watching a man check over his gun while talking about ending something would have my libido roaring to life, I would have laughed, uncomfortably, in your face. Nothing got me going then. Now though… now I couldn’t wait for him to come back so I could show my appreciation for his dedication.
“Grace, you still with me?” He asked as he walked to me. He was fully outfitted and ready to go now. “It will be alright. I’ve got this place wired and locked down. I know this is hard, but I’m going to protect you. You don’t have to worry.” Anders came close to me and his tone was soft as he brushed a hair from my face.
I smiled, tentative and small.
“I know.” It was all I could get out, suddenly overwhelmed in the best possible way.
He hadn’t moved except to cup my cheek. Our first kiss had been a disaster. Our second kiss burned between like an inferno. In this moment, though, I knew nothing but him.
I didn’t know who moved first. All I knew was that when his lips touched mine, my worries melted away and my world righted itself. It wasn’t a hurried kiss or one driven by lust or desperation. It was slow and soft. A brush of his lips on mine. A lingering pressure. A gentle swipe of his tongue on my lower lip. Done as quickly as it started, but the promise of more remained.
There would definitely be more.
“I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I know.”
I scrolled through a streaming service on his computer. I hadn’tdone any watching since being here. Between the wholly not age-appropriate angst and the self-defense lessons I had insisted on, there just didn’t seem to be enough time. I had hardly been alone since I went to Anders for help and I found that now, I didn’t like it. That would be a problem once this was all done, but that problem was for future Grace. Present Grace was going to watch a show and make a wonderful dinner from our newly acquired ingredients.
I found that even with the show on and the distraction of cooking, I couldn’t shake the tingling feeling along my spine like someone was watching me. It unsettled me, and I checked all the windows and doors just in case before rifling through the fridge to decide what to make.
My mother had made sure I knew how to make just about anything from scratch. Which sounds better than it was. I had a good foundation in cooking from baking with my grandma, but that was for the joy of it. My mother twisted that joyful time and it became about teaching me how to be a good wife, in her very specific and narrow version of what a good wife should be. It wasn’t about the joy of cooking or about spending time with me. I wish it had been about spending time with me. Maybe then, there would have been less criticism in the mix. Maybe I would have been able to pick a better husband. Ironically, maybe I would have ended up with a family and actually been a wife and mother instead of a barren trophy. Words my mother so easily threw out when I went to them for help before coming to a man I had only met through letters.
I didn’t notice that I had been crying until some tears fell into my sauce. More salt, I guess. I wasn’t panicking, though. These tears were cathartic, freeing. I needed to cry about my mother’s bad parenting and how she turned me away when I needed her, about my husband choosing everything over me, and everyone making me feel like I couldn’t measure up. I know now none ofthat was true. I was good enough for myself to love, at least.
I was so caught up in purging the pain of my past that I didn’t hear the window shattering until it was too late. Strong arms grabbed me from behind. Anders’ training kicked in and stomped down hard on their insole while using what leverage I could to twist around and out of their grip.
“Bitch.” The surprisingly high-pitched male voice behind me bit out, but at least his arms weren’t around me anymore. I grabbed the first thing I could find to defend myself, the chef’s knife I had been using to chop onions, and turned to run. I aimed for the front door, since the intruder stood between me and the window exit.
“Don’t you dare.” A different male voice rang out just as I reached the front door. “I ain’t getting paid if I don’t bring you back and I need to get paid.” I had to get out of the apartment. My phone was in the other room and would put me too far from safety if I tried to get it now. If I could make it to the lobby, I could use their phone to call the cops.
Something hard slammed into my back, knocking me into the door I had been trying to unlock. My shaking hands made the task difficult, and it took too long. Big arms came around me again and lifted me off the floor. I tried to move. I tried to get leverage so I could get free.
“Help.” I tried to call out. It came out weaker than I wanted. It definitely couldn’t carry beyond the door. I rapidly lost strength and a trickle of liquid ran down my face and into my eye. Some hysterical part of me wondered if it was a bug. Iron and salt hit my lips, and I realized then that I must have hit my head on the door. I was dizzy and couldn’t remember how Anders had taught me to get out of this. I attempted to kick the wall to get the attention of the neighbors. Maybe someone would come.
“Shut it, whore. No one’s coming to help.” The smaller manreached out and punched me in the face. That was unnecessary and just made me more angry. I kicked out again. This time towards the guy that had just punched me. I aimed for his groin and landed somewhere in the vicinity. It was good enough. He doubled over in pain. The guy who had me in a bear hug laughed at his buddy’s pain, but tightened his hold, anyway.
“Get up and get the rope,” the man holding me said. “She’s gonna put up a fight and we don’t have time for this. I wanna get home at some point.” Apparently, he was the one in charge. I tried to change my tactics. I was running out of energy and the room spun at an alarming rate.
“You don’t have to do this. Just let me go and you can leave. I won’t even call the police,” I begged. My voice came out weak and slurred.
“Don’t waste your energy. I don’t care about you. Like I said, I just want to get paid.” The smaller of the men was the one who responded. The big one didn’t respond. Maybe that was a sign of his weakness. Maybe he didn’t really want to do this.
