I rolled away from him and fought for control by staring at the wall, at the darkened paneling. His frustrated voice rang through my head. I’m not attracted to her.
My expression distorted, and a tear fell down my cheek to the pillow. I clenched my teeth so hard my head started aching. The tears stopped, and I continued staring.
I lay completely still like a corpse and waited for him to leave.
The mattress shifted as he moved.
His hand rested on my upper arm. “Adriane.”
“You were right. I’m tired.”
“Will you look at me?”
I turned my head, making my expression as apathetic as a puddle of rain water. He was leaned over me, hand still rested on my arm.
He paused.
I waited.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Will you turn off the bathroom light on your way out?”
He hesitated. I couldn’t read him—that emotionless mask of his was in place. Then he slid away, off the bed, and walked toward the door as he zipped and buttoned his jeans.
I rolled back to my side.
The bedroom door clicked shut, and I listened to his quiet footsteps disappear.
Then I counted the lines of grain in the wood paneling. Until they were too blurry to see anymore. I grabbed a handful of sheet and squeezed. My hand shook.
The tears kept coming anyway.
***Alec***
Dammit. What in the fuck am I doing?
Alec kept walking, kept his pace steady. The pain in his scrotum was fucking torture, worse than it had ever been—he hadn’t thought that possible. He welcomed it, in a way.
He headed to his room, stayed upstairs, mostly to be sure to avoid seeing anyone, to stop anyone from noticing his fading erection, and to make sure no one realized what he’d done, almost done. She deserved at least this one small courtesy.
***Adriane***
Light began to enter the room, more than just the bathroom light, and I realized the sun was beginning to rise. I wasn’t sure if I’d slept or not.
Pain shot through my hand.
I released the sheet from my grip, or tried. My hand didn’t want to work, as if arthritis had stricken it overnight. I pulled my hand away from the soft, white sheet. My fingers didn’t want to straighten. They looked gnarled, like a witch’s hand wrapped around a broomstick.
I ignored the pain splintering through my fingers and palm and set my hand back down on the mattress.
Light continued to fill the room.
I didn’t want to move, not even to breathe.
Then I decided I had to. I couldn’t feign illness today; Alec would know it was a lie.
I pressed my hand to the sheets to push myself up then fumbled back down. I shook out my hand and tried again. Hot water—that was what I needed. Steaming water was my universal cure, water so hot it melted my flesh.
As I slid out of the bed, I noticed a piece of white fabric that didn’t match the bedding. Alec’s shirt. I looked at it for a few seconds. Then I picked it up and held it to my face. It smelled like him, that slight musky scent, mixed with a hint of pine and those flowering trees.
Then I made myself set it down and walk away. I’d have to find a way to get it past Hanna and into the laundry.
After showering and dressing, I headed downstairs, hoping, for the first time, that Alec had already left and wasn’t staying for breakfast. I walked into the kitchen, greeted Hanna, and grabbed something to help with. While I cut Hanna’s fresh-baked bread, I listened—a little to Hanna, mostly for any other sounds, for Alec’s footsteps.
Hanna took the bread, and I realized I was done slicing.
“Are you all right this morning, dear?”
“Just a little zoned out, I guess. I was up too late reading.”
“You do seem to get lost in…”
The sound of footsteps on the back stairs seemed to mute Hanna’s words.
I forced my gaze away from the kitchen doorway and searched for something else to do, anything.
“Good morning.” There was no discernible emotion in Alec’s voice.
I grabbed the honeydew melon Hanna had sitting on the cutting board and took a large knife from the drawer. I’d never cut a melon this large before. It slipped out of my grasp on my first attempt with the knife.
“Can I help you with that, Adriane?” he asked.
With all my strength, I turned and smiled at him. “No, thank you. I’m not so easily beaten.” Then I turned back to the melon and pushed the knife through.
He walked away to the dining room.
I continued slicing, even with shaking hands.
I kept listening, hoping Alec would leave. He didn’t.
When it was time to serve, I helped Hanna bring everything out. I came into the dining room with the big bowl of melon I’d cut. The other men were seated already. Alec stood by his usual chair, gaze focused past the others, outside to the back yard.
Then he looked over at Hanna and me and shifted, as if about to take the bowl from my hands.
I veered my path slightly and set the bowl down at the other end of the table. Then I went back into the kitchen to bring out something else.
Hanna set the basket of fresh-baked bread on the table.
Alec took a piece then spoke to her. “I have an early appointment.”
“You can’t stay for a little bit?” she asked.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Will you be home for dinner?”
“Not likely.” He held up the bread. “Thank you for breakfast.” Then he was out the door.
I thought I’d be relieved when he left.
***Alec***
Alec controlled his speed down the drive, and then punched it as he drove down out of the hills. He didn’t have any place to be for about an hour, so he figured he’d drive for a while.
He hit the freeway and glanced down at the speedometer. He didn’t care about a ticket, but going to jail for reckless driving wouldn’t be a good idea right now. He eased his foot off the gas, and the dial dropped below a hundred. Then he noticed the gas gauge.
Shit.
At the next exit, he pulled off.
A couple blocks down, he saw a gas station, some hole-in-the-wall place with two pumps and a car graveyard to the side of the building. His shiny black Mercedes looked like a woman in a ball gown at a grunge concert.
He parked, swiped his card, and then leaned against his car as the gas pumped.
Another car pulled up on the other side of the pump, a dented pickup truck. Several young men were in the back.
“Hey, buddy, got a light?” one of them called.
Alec said nothing. He’d already used up all his friendliness for the day.
“I said, you got a light?”
Alec turned, took the nozzle from his car, and replaced it to its holder.
The bang of footsteps in the truck bed, and then feet hitting cement. “Buddy.”
Alec turned and made eye contact.
The young man stopped.
A pause.
Alec turned and closed the cap on his gas tank, just as his phone started ringing.
The boys murmured to each other. He heard his name, as well as his father’s name. “I heard that stint he spent at boarding school he really spent in prison for killing a man.”
Where in the hell do people come up with this shit?
Alec sat in his car and took his phone from his breast pocket, while ignoring the boys staring at him through the tinted windows.
“What is it, Vincent?”
“I just received some information.”
Alec waited. He’d, apparently, used up all his conversation skills for the day as well. Work was going to be difficult.
“Dean called off completely today. Do you think he’s—”
“Devoting more time to his search.”
“I hear he’s getting real edgy.”
“I’m sure he is.”
“Is there anything else we should do? I mean, is hiding her enough?”
“Have Dean followed. Then call me back.”
“Yes, sir.”
Alec ended the call. He drove away while the boys were still staring at him.
A while later, he parked and walked up to his office building. His phone ringing echoed around the marble lobby.
He answered Vincent’s call with, “What have you found so far?”
“He went to see Mason again; I think that guy is about an inch away from a heart attack.”
That wouldn’t much bother Alec. “Anything else?”
“I called because it’s kind of weird. He went to her parents’ graves. Why would he do that?”
“Because she visits them often.” Alec’s voice hardened. “He’s learning her habits.”
“But you took her away from all her habits. Dean would have no way of guessing—”
“It’ll only work if she doesn’t try to leave.”
A pause.
“Sorry about the other day, man,” Vincent said. “I swear I wasn’t going to tell her anything important.”
Alec took a calming breath. “I’m just glad she stopped me.” He hoped Vincent heard the apology in his voice.
“I know.”
Another pause.
“Let me know if there’s anything else,” Alec said.
“No problem.” Then Vincent added, “She’s all right, you know. I don’t think it bothered her.”
“I’ll talk to you later.” Alec ended the call. He’d stopped walking not far from the elevators. People bustled past, and he continued to stand there.
Then he realized why he felt so agitated, aside from the obvious.
She wasn’t bothered. He’d stopped just before they were about to make love, and she didn’t seem hurt or even confused.
You asshole—you want her to be upset that you rejected her? He should be happy, relieved even. This was the best outcome, was it not?
He forced himself to keep moving and boarded an elevator. He made it through his morning meetings then tried to catch up on some work during lunch. As he sat at his desk, he found himself reading the same accounting report twice in a row because he couldn’t seem to absorb the numbers.
“Mr. Kaden?” came Georgia’s voice over the intercom.
He pressed the button to answer. “Yes?”
“Hanna’s on the line. She wants to know if you have a moment.”
Great. She only called the office line when she wanted to make sure he wouldn’t ignore her.
“Of course,” he said. “Please put her through.”
“Yes, sir.” The click of her receiver, and then the line rang.
He picked up the phone. “Hello, Hanna.”
“I’m sorry to bother you, dear.”
“What can I do for you?”
She hesitated. “I want to know why you’re not eating lunch, again. And a piece of bread does not equal a breakfast.”
“But it was your home-baked bread.” He couldn’t seem to make his voice sound teasing.
“You need to eat.”
His voice leveled. “I eat enough, Hanna. You needn’t worry.”
She sighed.
“May I ask,” he said, “how Adriane is doing today?”
“I don’t know. She’s, um, been in her room all morning.”
“Is she not feeling well again?”
“She barely ate anything at breakfast, but she says she’s okay.” She sighed. “You know how she is.”
She’s quiet. And even more so when she’s upset.
He finished the call with Hanna by promising to eat something. Georgia brought him a bagel a few minutes later, before he asked.
The rest of the afternoon, he felt distracted, which meant he seemed to put others on edge, more than normal. So be it. If they couldn’t handle a little stress, he preferred not to work with them.
Finally, on the drive home, he decided what he had to do.