Chapter Three

Tessa

I grip the edges of the counter, looking at my reflection in the bathroom mirror.

The tingling begins in my fingers, travels through my hands up to my elbows, and then branches into my arms and over my chest. My heart beats quickly, slamming against my sternum and then pulsing throughout my body. I hear it like a drum in my ears, drowning out everything else. My body trembles, and perspiration erupts on my hairline.

And in the mirror…

In the mirror is a woman I don’t recognize.

She looks like me, but she’s not me.

She’s someone who has detached herself from her body. And she’s looking at me, judging me, telling me I’m nothing.

You’re nothing, Tessa. You’re nothing.

…

Three Months Earlier…

“You’re nothing, you cock tease.”

Garrett shoves his cock inside me.

How did I think I was falling in love with this monster?

How did I…

I’m not me anymore.

I’m simply a vessel. A vessel that he’s masturbating into.

I turn my head.

“No, you look at me. You look at me while I fuck you.”

But I no longer feel him.

My body feels it, but not my mind. I go inward, to that safe place.

My grandmother’s embrace.

“Why would anyone hurt me?”

“No one will hurt you as long as your nana is alive.”

…

I swallow hard when a woman exits the stall.

Quickly I turn on the water. Put on my game face. Pump some soap out of the dispenser and wash my hands while I feign a smile.

She smiles back at me as she washes her own hands and then slides them under one of the automatic dryers.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

When she finally opens the bathroom door and exits, I let out a deep breath.

I look in the mirror, and this time I see myself. I see Tessa.

My body has recovered.

Still, just to be sure, I grip the counter once more. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in again.

Exhaustion weighs on me. I haven’t been eating right, and I haven’t been sleeping well.

When I do manage to fall asleep, nightmares plague me.

But I have to get a grip.

And not just on this counter.

My best friend is getting married—married to the man of her dreams. Married to the man of anyone’s dreams, really. I can’t let her down.

I draw in a breath again. Check my reflection in the mirror to make sure I’m still me.

I nod to myself.

Then I leave the bathroom and—

Thud.

I look up, get my bearings. I ran right into Benjamin Black.

He grabs my shoulders. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes.” I pull out of his grasp. “Were you waiting for me?”

“No… I was heading to the bathroom.”

Oh. Of course he was. The men’s room is right next to the ladies’ room.

“Right. Sorry.”

He gazes up and down my body. “You sure you’re okay?”

Is he serious?

Of course I’m not okay. I just had a fucking panic attack in the bathroom. I haven’t eaten, haven’t slept, and he’s the one who made me come out tonight.

No. My best friend, Skye, made me come out tonight.

Never again.

“I’m fine,” I grit out.

He stands in my way.

“If you’ll excuse me,” I say.

He cocks his head, looks me over. “Tessa, wait right here for me while I go to the bathroom. I want to see that you get home safely.”

“That’s not necessary.”

He reaches out, but he doesn’t touch me. “Please.”

Something in his voice makes me think about it.

Please.

I have no reason to fear Ben Black. He’s the brother of my best friend’s fiancé. I’m certainly safer with him than I am with a strange cabdriver or Uber driver, aren’t I?

“How?” I ask. “Do you have a car here?”

“I just need to call my driver. He’ll pick us up here, and I can see you home.”

“A driver?”

“He’s paid very well by my company. He has top security clearance. I assure you that you’ll be safe.”

I look down, nibbling on my lower lip. He knows what’s bothering me, all right. I hate that everyone knows.

I may as well be wearing a scarlet letter like Hester Prynne. Except I haven’t committed adultery. No. And it would be a string of letters, not just one.

Tessa Logan was drugged and date raped. Tessa Logan almost died.

“Please,” he says again. “Let me do this for you. Let me do this for Skye and Braden.”

I swallow. Nod. “All right.”

He smiles at me then, and I see kindness in his brown eyes. The old Tessa would’ve found him extremely good-looking. The old Tessa did find him extremely good-looking. I’ve seen him on television, all over the internet, in magazines.

The old Tessa would be doing a lot more than just noticing his looks. She’d be flirting up a storm.

But that Tessa doesn’t exist anymore. In her place is a shell. The shadow inhabiting my body.

Ben takes out his phone and taps on it. “Sherlock will be here in just a minute.”

“Your driver’s name is Sherlock?”

“Sherlock Gatsby,” he says.

I can’t keep my jaw from dropping. “Someone really named their kid Sherlock Gatsby?”

He cracks a grin. “Stranger things have happened.”

Can’t argue with that. “Thank you,” I say. “For, you know. Your kindness.”

“No thanks needed. I will always help a lady who needs it.”

His words and his strong-yet-gentle voice—not to mention his rich, low timbre—almost send a shudder through me.

Almost.

The old Tessa would be making the most of this evening. She would’ve had a margarita—maybe two. She would’ve talked to Ben about his likes and dislikes, and she would’ve found a way to innocently slide her fingers over his arm, lean in, and whisper something suggestive into his ear.

Now?

The thought of doing those things threatens to send me reeling.

Already I feel the tingling in my fingers once more.

I draw in a deep breath and stave off the impending panic.

All I need to do is get into a car. Get in a car with a driver who has passed the best security clearance there is with this man who, though I don’t know him, can be trusted because his brother is marrying my best friend.

Ben returns from the bathroom, checking his phone. “He’s here.”

He takes care not to touch me as he leads me out of the bar. His car—a black BMW—is parked outside on the street. Sherlock, a tall man with brown hair mostly hidden under his chauffeur’s hat, gets out, comes over to the sidewalk, opens the back door, and offers his hand to me.

I don’t take it.

“I’d offer to help you in the car but…” Ben says.

“I’m fine, thank you.” I slide into the back seat, edging over so that I’m behind the driver’s seat. Ben gets in after me, keeping to his own side.

“Where do you live?” he asks me.

I rattle off my address, and Sherlock begins to drive.

I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.

But I’m very aware that I’m sitting next to a man. A man who doesn’t frighten me nearly as much as I expected him to.

Still…I feel frozen. My skin feels numb, and I’m antsy. I just want to get home. Get out of the car. Get up to my apartment and cuddle with Rita.

We don’t speak the whole way there, and when we finally arrive at my place, I immediately try to open the car door.

It’s locked, of course.

Locked.

I’m locked in.

The tingles start again—

Ben’s low voice eases the panic. “Sherlock will get that for you, and I’ll see you up.”

“That’s not necessary.”

A man hasn’t been to my apartment since…

“I’m not asking to come in, Tessa. I just want to see you to your door. Make sure you get in safely.”

What I’m feeling is such a contradiction. Part of me wants the security of his presence. After all, what if someone is waiting for me? What if Garrett is waiting for me?

But on the other hand…

His nearness makes my skin prickle, and not in a good way.

I desperately want to be free from him. Yet I also want him to walk me to my apartment.

Sherlock opens the car door for me and extends his hand, which I don’t take. He doesn’t seem offended, though. He just closes the door behind me and gets back into the driver’s seat.

Ben follows me to the building entrance. “Which floor are you on?” he asks.

“Fourth.”

My place doesn’t have an elevator, which sucks, but it’s part of the reason why the rent is so cheap.

Ben follows me up the stairs, staying close but careful not to touch me.

We get to the fourth floor, and I walk the two doors over to my apartment. Rita’s barks pierce through from the other side.

“You have a dog?” Ben asks.

“I do. I need to take her down to do her business.”

“It’s dark outside, Tessa.”

“I know that, but the dog has to go out.”

“I’ll take her for you.”

“She won’t go with you,” I say. “You’re a stranger.”

“Then we’ll go together.”

The man has an answer for everything.

Nausea makes its way from my stomach up my throat. I swallow it back. “This is a safe neighborhood, Ben. I’ll be fine.”

But he stays outside my apartment as I unlock my door, calm Rita down, and get her leash attached to her collar. I’m equal parts annoyed and relieved.

Ben doesn’t say a word—neither do I—as we walk down the stairs together.

I usually take Rita on a short walk every morning before work to give her some exercise. But the rest of the time, we only stay out until she goes to the bathroom. Lately, I’ve been lazy about the walks, though.

Normally it’s just a pee in the evening, but tonight it’s number two as well. And of course, I forgot the bag. Ben has me flustered, off my usual routine.

“I’ve got to go back upstairs and get a bag,” I say.

“You think she’ll stay with me? That way you don’t have to drag her up with you.” He kneels and scratches her behind her ears. “You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you?”

Surprisingly, Rita takes to Ben, and it will be easier for me to trudge back upstairs to get the bag without her tagging along. But that isn’t entirely the point. I pin Ben with a look. “You mean you’re going let me go alone, when a few minutes ago you wouldn’t?”

He simply smiles. “If you’re not back in five minutes, Rita and I are coming up.”

Something in me wants to return his smile.

But I don’t. I just turn and leave to get the bag.