Chapter 14

14

E LIZABETH

I’m not very good at this.

Waiting for him under these circumstances makes me even more nervous than I’d be if none of that happened.

That was his surprise?

Tears prick my eyes.

Him coming home? Or to my place, at least? And look how it all turned out.

What if something happens to him?

What if something happens to the other man and David gets in trouble?

What a stupid, stupid thing.

Apprehension still spins in my chest ten minutes later. I don’t know why it takes so long. The more time passes, the more nervous I get.

I make myself a cup of tea to fill that void and calm my brain.

Still, nothing. No development of any kind. No news.

Absently, I dunk a tea bag in a cup of hot water and take a sip, scalding my mouth.

I put my drink down and go to the door.

The street is quiet when I open it, and if it weren’t for his car parked in front of my place, I’d say he wasn’t even here.

I close the door and go to the kitchen again, as I simply cannot sit and wait. And then steps ring outside. Long strides, firm steps. The sounds grow louder and louder, mirroring the racing of my heart before he softly knocks.

It’s him. David. It must be him.

I rush to the door, look outside, spot his suit jacket, and open the door. I can’t get soon enough in his embrace.

I have never been so happy.

My arms loop around his waist.

“I’m so happy you’re here,” I say as he kisses my hair.

I break away from him but don't go too far.

“What happened?” I ask, our eyes locked, his arms still around me, mine still around him.

“You don’t need to worry about that man again,” he says, and I stare at him, petrified.

“What did you do to him? Who was he? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. As fine as he can be given the circumstances. He tilts his chin toward my place. “May I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” I say, stepping back, my eyes trained on his face as he looks around the house.

“Has he tried to enter your place?”

“No,” I say, closing the door behind him and quickly shifting the lock. “Did you catch him?”

I show him to the couch.

He looks as sharp as always, with crisp clothes, freshly shaved, and smelling like a million bucks, but I notice dark circles around his eyes.

“Are you hungry?” I ask before he can answer.

“No. I ate on the plane.”

“We can eat sandwiches,” I say. “I need a bite.”

“If you insist.”

He gives me a soft smile, and my eyes slide over his hands, checking ardently for any signs of physical violence.

“Let me get this,” I say, pointing to his jacket.

He sheds it and hands it to me before I take it to the bedroom and put it on a hanger in the closet.

It’s like he’s come home.

When I return, I find him in the kitchen at the table, his elbows on the table and his sleeves rolled up.

I pour him a cup of tea and start making the sandwiches.

“I don’t have anything else in the house. Would you rather drink coffee?”

He stops me with a clipped gesture.

“Tea is good.”

He drinks his tea while I focus on the food.

“I handed him to the cops,” he eventually says, and I lift my eyes and freeze.

He nods.

“So, was he up to no good?”

“I don’t know his intentions, but he admitted he was here because of you.”

“Did you get his name?”

He smiles.

“It took some convincing,” he says, and I don’t know what he means by that. “His name is Keith… something. The cops have his information.”

I turn to stone.

It’s one thing to suspect that it’s him and quite the other to have the confirmation.

I feel like I need to sit.

I don’t do it and go back to making the sandwiches.

“What did you tell him?” I ask.

“I told him I’d kill him if he came near you again, and I'd make it look like an accident.”

“He believed you?” I ask, slicing a tomato with a shaky hand.

“Every word of it. It’s the truth,” he adds, and I stop and look at him, the knife in the air still connected to my hand.

“I’m not joking about this,” he says, a faint smile on his face. “Do you know this guy?” he asks in a different tone.

I put the knife down and start assembling the sandwiches. Slices of bread, cheese, ham, tomatoes, and lettuce get acquainted with each other.

“You know him too,” I say, and he cocks an eyebrow at me.

“I do?”

“He’s the ‘boyfriend’ .”

His eyebrows move up.

“He was with me the night you invited me and my ‘boyfriend’ upstairs at the club.”

“Oh… Yeah, yeah. I remember that. I don’t recall him, though.”

“I don’t think you wanted him upstairs,” I say with a smile.

“That’s true,” he admits casually. “So what happened?” he asks, his curiosity ignited.

He leans back, his arms crossed over his chest.

I put his sandwich on a porcelain plate and mine on another and slide his food in front of him.

I claim the seat across from him.

“He resurfaced,” I say, not looking at him, about to take a bite.

I fill my mouth with food and lift my gaze.

“It’s not only that,” I say while he studies my face. “He tracked me down online.”

A flicker of worry flashes through his gaze.

“It’s one of those things,” I mumble around my food.

I tell him the entire story.

What some male students do.

How I may have been targeted by this guy.

Or maybe more people like him.

I show him the messages I received just before the intruder hinted he was on the back porch.

The more details I give him, the more his frown deepens.

He runs a tense hand through his hair and seems to have lost his appetite.

“Motherfucker,” he mutters quietly.

“I don’t think I was in real danger,” I say, trying to defuse the tension.

He shoots me a stern look that makes my throat dry and prompts me to put my food down.

I finish chewing and swallow hard.

“What I meant was––”

He cuts me off with a curt gesture before he speaks.

“What you think it was and what it was in reality may be two different things, Elizabeth. Yes, stupid guys like him do stupid things like this, but let me tell you something. There was an opportunity to harm someone, and he was about to accomplish that. Taunting you and playing with you is not as innocent as it seems. He wasn’t out there stalking you because there was nothing in it for him. He would’ve confronted you sooner or later. And it could’ve happened tonight. I don’t know what triggered him, but he has been consistent in his pursuit. How could you not tell me about him?”

“I didn’t think it would come to this.”

He doesn’t seem pleased with my answer.

“I thought I could handle it,” I say in a softer voice. “Some things are just not up to you.”

He starts rubbing the back of his neck, pondering while I resume eating my sandwich.

“I can’t let you stay here alone anymore,” he says with some finality in his words. “I’m sure there are other guys like Keith out there. He seemed like a nice guy, didn’t he?” he shoots at me, raising his eyes and setting his hand down.

He pins me with his stare.

“Yes, he did.”

I take a sip of tea.

“But I won’t move out because of him.”

“I’m not asking you to move out. I’m asking you to be with me.”

“I am with you.”

“I mean all the time, Elizabeth.”

I place the cup of tea down and look at him, befuddled.

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Exactly what I just said. You come with me.”

“I can’t come with you. I have a life here.”

“A life that someone like him can put in danger.”

I find his words outrageous. There’s no way I can go with him, and he knows it. He has a life outside my meager existence.

I’m the little ant that moves breadcrumbs from one point to another while he’s the condor flying up high.

Living in several places around the world.

Flying out at a moment’s notice.

Indulging in food chefs accustomed to his culinary preferences cook especially for him.

“So what exactly do you have in mind?” I say again. “How do you envision this? Are we putting out a public statement?”

“No. You start working for me. As in really working for me.”

Not a muscle moves on his face while I try to make sense of this.

“You’re serious?”

“Dead serious. I was restless in New York. There’s the distance between us. And then there’s this. I’m not coming home to you being sexually assaulted by someone. What could’ve happened had I not come to your place tonight? You didn’t even know I’d show up.”

“He ran away.”

“He ran away because he saw me. He was already talking to you, mostly harassing you, from your back porch. You would’ve walked outside to talk to him, and he could’ve easily entered your place.”

“I would’ve put up a fight.”

He stalls for a moment, his eyes diving into mine before he leans closer, his hand finding mine.

“Listen, Elizabeth. I don’t want you to put up a fight. And I don’t want anyone to do you any harm. I would hate myself if something bad happened to you. All right? You were a target. He targeted you. Maybe he didn’t do it that first night. Or maybe he did. Who the fuck knows? I don’t want you to be here by yourself, waiting for my phone call, only to have someone like him at your door.”

I kind of see his point, a ball of tension lodging in my throat.

“But this is my life. You can’t be with me all the time…” I say quietly.

A faint smile touches his lips.

“I know. But I can be with you when it matters.”

His eyes dip to the plate in front of him.

“How is food?” he says in a better disposition, moving away from the moment of truth that just swept through us.

“The food is good,” I murmur, not knowing where this is going. “Are you staying the night?”

He takes a bite.

“Do you want to kick me out?” he asks, chewing on his food.

“No.”

I pick up a leaf of lettuce and shove it into my mouth.

“I just wanted to know so I can put an extra pillow on the bed.”

He looks at his food, smiling, still chewing.

“I don’t think we’ll be sleeping much.”

I flash a grin, which he notices when he lifts his eyes.

“I’ll need to get my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll need to give them notice,” he says, shifting the topic abruptly. “You’re no longer working at that place.”

I smile.

“Hmm… I like that place,” I tease.

“You’ll like working for me better.”

I put the rest of my food down and drink tea.

“You know James and Rain have figured us out,” I say.

“So…” he murmurs, not in the slightest impressed. “I’m not worried about them.”

He finishes his food and drinks tea as well.

“You’ll be what I tell everybody you are to me. There will be no questions.”

“What about your assistant?”

“You’re not replacing her.”

“What about Pam?”

He flashes a smile.

“You’re not replacing her either.”

“So what am I supposed to do for you?”

“I’ll find something for you to do.”

“What about school?”

“We’ll work around your schedule.”

“I can’t travel with you.”

He has a mischievous smile on his face.

“It’s part of your job. You’ll be my shadow. Or I’ll be your shadow. You pick.”

I sag back in my seat, a smile tugging at my lips.

“You’re serious about it,” I say quietly.

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”