Page 24 of Don't Speak
“Awesome. I’ll be here until about 11pm, but I need to leave early to take care of something. Let me know if y‘all need anything until then.
“Thanks, Ben. Everything okay with Sarah and the baby?” I ask in concern. He doesn’t usually leave that early.
“Uh. Oh. Yeah,” he says before adding, “everything is fine. I just have to wrap something up.
He seems a bit twitchy today. Like he’s anxious about something. I hope everything is okay.
“Thanks for the check,” Dean says, breaking me from my curious thoughts.
“Yeah, sure. No problem, Dean,” Ben responds before picking up his clipboard and walking back to his office.
Once he’s gone, we’re alone again. The rest of the crew are mostly on time, but some are late arrivals. Dean and I are the only ones who show up early, apparently.
“Now, back to what we were talking about,” he says, changing the subject abruptly.
“I don’t like talking about my feelings, Dean. If you haven’t noticed that by now.”
“Yes, but I also get the feeling you just really need to vent. So come on. Let me have it. I’m a great listener,” he says with a smirk.
“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” I tell him. “My life isn’t all rainbows and sunshine.”
“Is anyone’s?” he questions.
“In comparison to what I’m about to tell you? Yeah, actually.”
He looks at me as though he’s ready for anything I’m about to tell him. I feel comfortable in this moment, which is not something I’m used to feeling. I hope my instincts aren’t wrong about him. I don’t think I can handle another betrayal.
So, I tell him. I tell him about Sean’s escape from prison, about what I endured as a child into my teen years—minus the details—about my mother, and about the mysterious photos showing up on my front porch. It all flows so easily. Information I’ve told a select few just spews from my mouth without hesitation. I am honestly shocked with myself by the time I’m finished talking.
He just looks at me, not in a judgmental way or in disgust. He’s looking at me as though heseesme. He stands from the chair he was sitting in, takes one look around, and walks up to me, slamming his lips to mine. The hairs on my arms stand straight up, and my nerve endings feel like they’re on fire with his touch, and it’s like electricity dances across my skin. It feelslike all the air has been ripped from my lungs before he pulls away.
“Thank you,” he whispers.
“Thank you for what?” I respond in confusion, stunned by the kiss.
“For trusting me with your story,” he says before taking a few steps back.
“You’re not… disgusted by me?” I question.
“Why would I be?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Because most people are when they find out someone has a lot of fucked up baggage,” I tell him.
“I could never be disgusted by you, Nikki,” he growls, his demeanor changing quickly as though I offended him by insulting myself.
My cheeks redden, and I return to the bar, ensuring the last few tasks have been completed.
“Do you have any idea who is sending you the photos?” he asks me.
“No. They’re always just dropped on my porch. I’ve been meaning to install security cameras, but I just haven’t gotten around to it.” His body shifts when I tell him that last part.
“And they have me in them?” he asks.
“Yes. They include you in them. Umm, if you wanted to come over after work tonight, I could umm… show you,” I tell him awkwardly, thoughts of the other night creeping back up into my mind.
“Yeah. I think I’d like that,” he says, looking at me with heat burning in his eyes.
I flush again, turning around to hide the smile on my face.
