Page 15 of Beautifully Used
“You’re all sticky now.”
“It’ll wash off.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said again, still trying to get the stickiness off my chest, but only managing to make my blood turn a little warmer. I should get away from her. Now.
“No big deal. It’s okay. I’ll just hop back into the shower again and rinse it off.”
“Again?”
“Yeah, I just had one, but now you can join.” I couldn’t resist. I know, I was a cad, but she looked so gorgeous standing there, her t-shirt slick with ice cream, smelling of vanilla and being so upset about plowing into me.
She completely ignored my offer to join me, which didn’t make sense and certainly didn’t seem like the Gabrielle I was beginning to know. That Gabrielle would have come back with something sarcastic, or some vehement refusal. I was sure of it. Instead of sarcasm, she stood there staring, her brown eyes wide with … I don’t know, horror? Jeez. Was I that bad?
I thought it best to forego my stupid offer, and attempted to cover it up with, “Look, it’s no big deal. I’d barely dried off from the first shower. I can just hop back in.”
She didn’t seem to hear me as she stood there, looking like a scared little girl and murmuring in a small, soft voice, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t be mad.”
I reached out to touch her arm and she flinched. “I’m not mad. Are you okay?” I asked because she was definitely not acting or sounding like herself. There was something going on inside that pretty head of hers, and I wasn’t so sure she was going to snap out of it. I touched her arm again, and she cowered back as if she thought I might hurt her.
She slowly shook her head as though in a daze. “Please don’t make me…”
“Make you do what?”
She seemed so far away as she stood there mumbling, “I didn’t mean to. Please. I’ll be good.”
“Gabrielle. What’s going on?” She took a step back, shaking her head at me. “Gabrielle!” She continued stepping away, staring at my stomach. “Gabrielle! Look at me!” I said, taking her arms in my hands. I let the towel drop to the floor and her eyes followed it. “Gabby, please look at me!”
She finally looked up and our eyes met. Hers were glossy with wetness as a tear dripped down her cheek. She swiped at it with the back of her hand. “Sorry.”
“What the hell is going on? Where did you just go?”
“Nowhere.” She tugged out of my grasp and took off for the guest room she was staying in. She went inside and shut the door.
“What the fuck just happened?” I mumbled and took off for another quick shower.
Chapter 12
Gabrielle
* * *
After closing the door, I leaned up against its hard surface and sank to the floor. I brought my knees up to my chest and cradled my arms around them, burying my face into my forearm, not caring that my t-shirt was rather sticky and smelled like vanilla milkshake. Why had that awful vision come into my head? I hadn’t thought about any of that stuff for many years. Except when I wrote the book, but even then, the memories hadn’t been that prevalent in my mind. In fact, I’d felt much better after writing it all down. Giving the story to my characters instead of me had helped relieve my anxieties. Removing myself from the situation and giving the problems to someone else had been something I’d done inside my head many, many times. Writing it as someone else was just as easy. It had paid off, I guess, since my new publisher and editor both said it seemed so real. The editor even asked me if it had happened to me. I denied it all, of course. I always tried to see the character as someone else. I had to be careful and not be too specific in the telling of the tale, too. According to my editor, nobody wants to read heinous acts like that in too much detail.
Seeing Brodie standing there, dripping with sticky vanilla milkshake had made me remember that horrible time in my life. God, how embarrassing. He must think I’m a complete nutcase. It had been so uncontrollable though. Like someone else had taken over my mind. I didn’t even realize it had happened until Brodie was ordering me to look at him.
The room lit up with a bright flash of light. Three seconds later, thunder boomed through the eerie, dark night. I jumped at the sound and wished it would go away. I hated thunderstorms. And thunderstorms without rain? Now that was just creepy.
The outline of the bed in the dark seemed to dominate the space, making the room seem daunting when the light flashed. The area was small, but I didn’t need much room. Most of my belongings were still in San Diego. All I had with me now were the suitcases I’d brought. After emptying them, my clothes seemed dwarfed by the wall-length closet they hung in.
My eyes hurt. My head hurt from all the thinking, and it took me several minutes to realize the pounding in my head was actually someone knocking on the bedroom door. When I heard Brodie’s pleas to open it, I swiped away the rest of the tears that had dripped down my cheeks.
“Gabrielle. Please open the door.”
“Please go away.”
“No.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Why?”
