Page 29 of Under the Influence
No, I don't fucking understand at all. Just fucking believe me. "What?"
"If what you said is true – that you were under attack and we were in danger – you didn't giveme–"
Damn fucking shit. "It istrue."
"Then you should've let me decide what to do. I should've made the choice to stay or go.” Always so rational as she implores me to hear her message. Her gorgeous blue eyes pleading with mine. But right now we don’t need rational. We need her to accept us being together. Permanently. “And now you're doing the same thing. I deserve to have time – without pressure from you – to make up mymind."
"There's nothing to make up. You want me." Could I sound any more like a pompous ass? But this is fucking ridiculous. I know she fucking loves me. Even if her words contradict her actions. "Just admitit."
“Ican’t.”
“Why?”
Her head droops forward. Hiding her gorgeous face from me. Cloaking both of us in her devastation. “Because giving in makes me afool.”
Fucking pride standing in the way. She’s not fighting me. She’s fighting herself. It takes everything I have not to argue with her. I won’t convince her. Not like this. Not by bickering. Not tonight. I release her and kiss the top of her head. “Enjoy yourrun.”
I force myself to stride to the door in silence. Wishing she’d stop fucking worrying about what her brilliant brain thinks and listen to what her broken heartwants.
“Gio?”
Damn if I don’t love my name on her lips. I spin around. Her gaze remains glued to the carpet despite her power to hold me here with just one word. “Yeah?”
She taps the tip of a shaking finger over her heart. “What does the flamemean?”
The tattoo. Her tattoo. Another visual reminder of my failure. Making my response the easiest and shittiest answer I’ve ever given her. “That I was living in hell every single fucking day for the last six months withoutyou.”
Her head bobs again. A few seconds pass without any more questions, leaving me no choice. I have to walkaway.
He’s still so unbelievably handsome. Onlythe hallway light spills across his bare body. Sprawled on his back, shadows capture the valleys between the muscles lining his stomach. The ink on his thick chest and sculpted arms darken the olive skin. A sharp contrast to the white sheet, revealing only a hint of the curve of his tonedthigh.
Not that realistically he would've changed that much in six months. I guess since I have, I thought he would too. I’ve slowly gained back most of the weight I lost when I was too upset to eat. My ribs and hips not jutting out in distress any longer. But somehow I still feel small. Unimportant.Insignificant.
I shouldn’t have come in here. But sleep eludes me. When I'm in his house. When he's so close. All my thoughts continue to jumble with him anyway. Regardless of where I am. One insistent notion that won’t fade. A simple truth I can'tdeny.
I’m in hell too withouthim.
He honored my request and ignored me all evening. Not interfering as I moved my belongings to the guest room. Or when I worked out. I had the gym to myself. Running six miles on the treadmill. Worrying he would come in. Disappointed when he didn't. Ate a bowl of his housekeeper's amazing vegetable soup and homemade rolls at the breakfast counter alone. Curled up on the sofa to watch a movie when exhaustion overcame me, too tired to study any longer, and he never even walked down the hall. So quiet, I'm not even sure he was still in thepenthouse.
Now we both are. Separate and desolate. Terrified he’ll hurt me again, and I’ll return to my misery. But for now, for this time we have together, I can at least have some temporary happiness. However short-lived that joy may be. I pretended before that I was fine when I wasn’t. I can pretend just as well when this isover.
The knob clicks shut behind me and I pause, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. I take a tentative step forward only to be shoved backward. Agony blasts through my head as I slam into the drywall. An immobile force on my throat wedges me against the plaster. Something hard and cold jabs my temple. I futilely claw at the forearm crushing my windpipe. Digging into the taut muscle with all my force. Resisting the black spots dancing in front of my eyes. Fighting the panic threatening to steal my ability to battle this force attackingme.
“Chryseis?”
Gio’s confused whisper blows against my roasting skin. The suffocating weight releases from my neck and my body instinctively arches upward. Sucking in air I never realized I could miss so much. Coughing and sputtering after my lungs fill with oxygen again. Barely able to choke out a response. “It’sme.”
“JesusChrist.”
Fear like I’ve never heard before rages in his voice from my breathless whisper, and a flash of metal whips downward in the blackness as he tosses the gun on the carpet. Coiling around me so tight I’m not holding myself upright any longer. Weightless from him sheathing me to hischest.
“Fuck.”
Trembling just as hard as him, I wrap my arms around his waist. “I-I’mokay.”
“I never thought you’d come to me. I thought you were an intruder…Fuck!”
His grip tightens. Fingers tangled in my hair burrowing me deeper into his body. Almost smothering me all over again. As frightened as I am, I know he's suffering more. His worst nightmare almost came true. Rather than protecting me he almost hurt me. I kiss his blazing chest. Tensing under my lips. Both of us wheezing in fear. “I’m reallyokay.”
