I'm so cold. I can't focus. I close my eyes and wait for the throbbing in my head to subside. Pain shoots through my jaw.
Pieces of my cell phone are strewn across the floor. The French doors at the back of the house are wide open, the wind banging them against the side of the house. Fuzzy memories are starting to clear.
John hit me. Is he still here? I hold my breath and listen for any noise in the house, but hear nothing. If he is here, he'll continue his physical tirade against me.
There's a wood-splintering crash. The front door flies open and nearly breaks free of its hinges. Two men rush through. Jake moves past me without a word.
Alex is at my side in an instant, grasps my shoulders, and he stares straight into my eyes. "Jesus, Kylie. Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," I answer softly. "He punched me, nothing else."
Alex sucks in a deep breath through clenched teeth and runs his fingers gently across my jaw. "I knew it wasn't safe for you to leave the house today. I knew he wouldn't give up," he mutters under his breath. "Why did I let you talk me into letting you go?"
Every muscle in my body tenses. I've seen the look on Alex's face before. The tight jaw, the ticking vein in the neck, and the dark dangerous eyes. John just had it.
Are they the same person—with the same rage?
Alex exhales, and lifts my hand to his lips. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't here to protect you from him. Again."
He blames himself?
Will I ever understand this man?
I open my mouth to protest, but Jake appears on the landing, gun drawn.
"Upstairs is clear, Mr. Stone."
I point to the open door at the back of the house. "I think he left."
"Do you know where he might have gone?" Jake asks, re-holstering his gun.
"Home maybe. He's been drinking, so a bar?" I glance at Alex. "Probably one where there's a clear view of your boat. He knows I was with you all weekend. I'm guessing he was camped at a bar across from the dock, waiting for us to return."
Alex looks at Jake, who nods and leaves through the back door.
Alex places his hand on my chin and gently turns my face to the light. "Do you have an ice pack?"
I point to the kitchen. "Freezer."
He retrieves it and wraps it in a kitchen towel. I wince when he places it against my jaw. Deep creases form across his forehead, and he exhales loudly through his nose.
Jake rejoins us, pushing his cell phone in his pocket.
"Thomas is on his way to Sysco's residence. I'll take the two of you home and then head downtown to have a look around."
Alex stands and offers me his hand. My head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds and can barely balance on my neck. We walk outside toward the black Mercedes SUV, which is haphazardly parked on the curb, doors wide open. I slide along the leather bench and rest my head on the back of the seat.
"You okay?" Alex whispers, his lips pressed against my forehead.
I close my eyes and give two thumbs-up.
John is out of control, and I'm not sure even Alex can prevent the events I fear are inevitable.
John wants me, and he isn't afraid to kill me if it means he can keep me away from Alex.
"Kylie, baby, we're home." Alex gently shakes me, and I open my eyes.
He places his arm at my waist and helps me walk up the front steps and into the house. For the second time in two nights, I need refuge after an attack by John.
Alex sits on the edge of the table across from me on the couch and inspects my injuries. He trains his eyes on my jaw, and holds my chin in place. His mouth is a solemn, flat line.
"Mr. Stone." Jake joins us and tosses Alex an ice pack.
The two men look at each other for a moment. Jake nods to Alex before he turns and leaves the room.
Somehow, they had an entire conversation without uttering a word or including me.
I wish I knew Alex better. Then the secrecy that undoubtedly involves me might not bother me so much. I'm lost, and fear ravages my body. Is this the start of Alex letting me go? The thought of not having him in my life, coupled with the craziness of the night, weakens me.
He carefully places the ice pack against my jaw and secures it with my hand. "Hold this."
His eyes are dark, and I can't tell if he's upset with the situation—or me. He warned me to not take John’s behavior lightly.
"I have to go talk to Jake for a minute. Will you be okay here?"
I nod. "Of course."
"Okay." He points to the ice pack. "Keep that on your jaw."
I smile, and he leaves the room. The living room is warm, welcoming, and I soak in its comforting atmosphere. In the darkness, the windows become a mirror of the interior. I can see my reflection, ice pack to the face.
Here I am again, icing one part of my body or another after John has hit me. I thought walking away from him would bring an end to this, but he's still here. Always in the periphery of my life. Ready to strike like a rattlesnake and empty his venom into me.
What would’ve happened if I hadn't called Alex? John wouldn't have stopped at one punch. He never did in the past. I can still feel every strike to my face, punch to my side, and the taste of blood in my mouth from a busted lip.
I shake off the visions. The worst didn't happen. Alex happened. On both nights, he saved me. John is out of control—unhinged, rash—just as Alex said. I should've listened to him and stayed here. The one place I'm safe.
I know deep down it's foolish to dream of a future with Alex. A relationship with the wealthiest most sought-after man in the world would be hard to maintain under normal circumstances. Add a stalker ex-boyfriend bent on reclaiming me—or killing me—that's too much to ask of anyone.
The crystal decanters with the various caramel-colored liquids lined up across the back of the bar call to me. A good stiff drink or two—or five, depending on how long Alex is gone—will help take the sting out of reality. I toss the ice pack onto the black granite and reach for a decanter of light-brown liquid. As long as it takes the edge off this disastrous night, I couldn't care less what it is.
My hands tremble. The crystal decanter clinks against the glass.
"Let me help." Alex is close behind me, his hands on mine. He fills my glass half full, takes the decanter from me, and pours a glass for himself.
I walk back to the sofa and sit. The bourbon is smooth and slides down my throat, burning a path that warms me from the inside out.
"Better?" Alex sits next to me and peers at me over the rim of his glass.
"Much. Thank you." I take another sip and set my glass on the table.
"I'm so sorry, Alex. I never meant for you to get mixed up in my drama. This is not your problem and not what you signed up for when you asked me on a second date."
Alex places his glass on the table, inhales deeply, and clasps his hands around mine. "This is my fault. I could've prevented this from happening. I didn't follow my instincts—which is unlike me—and you were hurt because of it. Because of me."
My mouth opens, but no words come out. I'm speechless. None of what Alex says makes any sense.
"How can you say that? This is not your fault." I gather my thoughts and try to grasp the reality of the situation. "John did this to me, not you. You've saved me from him—twice. You've gone above and beyond the duties of a guy I have known for barely two weeks."
"I made you a promise," Alex says, "on the boat. I told you I wouldn't let him, or anyone, put their hands on you ever again."
"It's not your job to protect me, Alex. Trust me when I tell you I would never hold you to something you said during a weekend fling on your boat. You owe me nothing. I expect nothing."
Alex stands and crosses to the fireplace. He runs his finger over a framed black-and-white picture of a woman. He gazes at it while he rubs the bridge of his nose with his other hand.
"Is that all it was to you? Just a weekend fling on my boat?"
My heart sinks. "No. I didn't mean it like that. I just... I don't understand, Alex." This conversation is frustrating the hell out of me.
I walk up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and rest my head between his shoulder blades.
"Why do you feel like you have to protect me?"
He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. "There are things in my past, things I don't want to get into right now, that force me to readjust how I handle abuse. It's not something I'm proud of, but if I'd been stronger, I could've prevented something similar from happening to someone else I cared deeply about. It frustrates me that I can see so clearly what's coming. Not specifics, but I know John's mindset. He won't let this go, Kylie. He's obsessed and dangerous—two things I'm very familiar with."
I step away from him, a sudden sinking feeling in my stomach. Familiar how?
He faces me and rests his hands on my hips. "As for why my feelings for you are so strong... I'm not sure I can explain that, either. I don't fully understand it any more than you do. When you stopped to help me, I was drawn to you. I wasn't kidding when I told you this is all new to me. I have never felt anything remotely similar to what I feel for you."
I walk to the couch and sit. My emotions are all over the place. I'm so happy—no, ecstatic—that Alex feels this way. I'm also scared by how fast things are moving. "We barely know each other, and until today, I had no idea we were in a relationship. But having any relationship with me is dangerous. I wouldn't blame you for wanting to reconsider."
Alex sits next to me. "You think what's happened the last couple of days—with John—diminishes my feelings. If anything, they're more intense. I see you, so strong—handling this on your own so John doesn't come between us—and I want to protect you even more. But it's more than that. I need you, probably more than you need me. You have a tough exterior, but the warm, vibrant, passionate person you are inside inspires me. I want to share my past and see if I'm redeemable."
I'm stunned and so damn confused. What the hell happened in his past?
"I'm not saying this very well.” He shifts in his seat, drags his hand over his face, and looks into my eyes. “You have triggered something in me that I never knew I had, never knew I was missing. I've wanted you since I met you, but somehow, somewhere in this brief journey of ours, that want turned to need. I need to protect you. I need you to be safe. Because I need you for me. While I was in Toronto, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how I could feel so much in a short amount of time. But there is no answer. It just is. So, I'm just going with it."
The room is silent. I'm not sure I'm still breathing. I have no idea how I feel or how to respond, but I can't deal with anymore tonight.
I sigh and break the silence in the room, but not the tension. "That's a lot of information. I think I need to sleep. Too much has happened tonight—last night."
I'm not sure where I'm going with Alex, but I'm in a place where I feel safe and protected. Alex seems to need me just as much as I need him. And he is just as uncomfortable and scared.
There's a certain comfort in knowing we'll face this unchartered water together. The true test will be how we fair in the tumultuous seas.