Chapter Fourteen

With a snarl, Gideon grabs the bar of soap and forces my lips apart. “Open up. We need our filthy mouths washed.”

The memory comes back to me as I stare down at the bar of Ivory soap sitting on the side of the sink. Ivory—the same brand Gideon always used—and just looking at it makes my mouth salivate with the bitterness of blood and soap.

Behind me Anne mumbles something and rolls over in her bed.

It’s six in the morning, and we don’t have to go to work today. Off days mean Anne will sleep until noon. But I plan on a morning run in Central Park and the sightseeing I’ve always wanted to do in New York.

And so I tuck my long sleeve T-shirt into my running shorts, tie my Nikes, and quietly head out. West and I always meet in the lobby of whatever hotel we find ourselves, and there he is leaning up against the front counter watching TV and waiting on me. I use the few seconds he doesn’t know I’m looking to check out his sleep-messy hair, his grey and white track pants, and black Under Armor T-shirt. Still watching the TV, he bends over to scratch his knee, and Daffy Duck boxers peek out of his waist band. I smile, he wasn’t kidding, huh?

Fox News is on with two reporters sitting opposite each other on couches. In the top right corner a picture of Gideon pops up, smiling, looking very approachable and charming. It’s like all the air gets sucked out of the lobby, and suddenly I can’t breathe. The volume is turned low, and I can’t hear what the reporters are saying but along the bottom scrolls:

GIDEON KOPELING TO LAUNCH WORLD TOUR

What?

West turns then and catches sight of me. “Hey.”

I force a smile, sure that if he looked close enough, he’d see how fake it is. “Hey.” I just want my past to disappear, but every time I turn, there it is again being shoved in my face.

He takes off toward the exit door. “Let’s get to it.”

My eyes track back over the TV as I slowly follow behind West to see they’ve moved on to another story. But…a world tour? Gideon was talking about it, sure, but with me being gone, I didn’t think he’d go through with it.

It’s like I’m not even missing.

I haven’t talked to Bluma, so I don’t know specifics, but I do have a Google Alert on my phone, and I know Gideon has made no official announcement that I’m gone. That’s smart, actually. Keeping it private. If he made things official, the police would legally have to get involved. No, Gideon knows exactly what he’s doing letting his private team find me. And he knows exactly what he’s doing with this world-tour announcement. Yes, something is off, and though I can’t see it right now, my gut tells me this has everything to do with me because there is no way he would just let me go.

“Eve?” West says, and I blink out of my thoughts to see we’re standing in Central Park.

Central Park. I am going to miss everything if I don’t stop thinking about Gideon and tune into the world around me.

West laughs. “Where’d you go?”

I give a little laugh, too. “Nowhere. Sorry.” I motion to our surroundings. “Overwhelmed, I guess. I mean, look at this. It’s like the city disappeared.”

“I know. I love it here.” The sky thunders then, and West glances up at the darkness. “Let’s see how far we can get before it pours.” He takes off in a slow, warm-up jog, and together we build our pace.

A few wet drops hit my face and arms, and I look up at the gray and gloomy clouds.

“Come on.” West takes off in a fast run. “Gazebo up ahead. We can wait it out under there.”

Sprinkles become splatters and seconds later rain pours down. West sprints and I race after him, my shoes slipping on the wet grass, and with a splash, I land in a puddle. Lightning cracks then, jerking me to attention, and in a quick flash I see someone standing across the lawn in the line of the trees. But as quickly as I see him, he is gone.

I’ll kill you if you ever run from me.

Gideon’s venomous words ricochet through my head as another streak lights up the sky and rain streams down my hat and over my shoulders to soak through my T-shirt. I stare hard into the woods, my gaze snapping from tree to tree in a searching panic.

“Eve!” West yells from the gazebo. “Get up here!”

I ignore him and focus hard on the tree line, my heart banging so hard it feels as if it’s about to split my ribs. Did I really see a person?

“EVE!”

Jerking away, I race up the slope toward West.

“You okay?” he asks as I duck into the shelter. “What did you see?”

“Nothing,” I say, wiping the rain from my face.

“Another minute and you would’ve been a piece of sizzled bacon,” he jokes.

I conjured that person’s image. That has to be it. There’s no way one of Gideon’s men has found me. If they had, they would’ve already taken me. They wouldn’t be just following me, just watching me.

West steps into my line of sight, and I bring my eyes to his. His brow furrows as he studies my face, and I don’t want his questions, so I look away.

“What’s made you so sad?” he quietly asks.

Sad. He used that word before, and I don’t know how to respond. I don’t even know where to start, or what to say. All I know is that I don’t want to be sad, I don’t want to lug around the heaviness of the past. I really don’t. I want to be adjusted and happy, all the time, and one day I will. One day.

He reaches a hand toward me, and gently he runs his thumb over my cheekbone. Quiet seconds pass, filled only by the sound of the rain, his breathing, and my nervous heart. He inches closer and his other hand goes to my hip, making the air punch from my lungs as I realize one more inch and our bodies will be completely together. I tune into his searing hand there on my hip, and I watch as his dark eyes become even darker, consuming.

West’s lips part, and I feel his breath, warm and a little minty from his toothpaste. He closes that last inch and now we’re pressed together, and I realize my hands are on his hips. I’m not quite sure when that happened. I don’t remember putting them there.

Through our wet shirts I feel the steady thump-thump of both our hearts. His hand moves, the one on my hip, sliding up to my ribs, and I hear my own shallow intake of air.

“We’re really wet,” he says, his voice deep.

I try to say something back, but instead just nod.

His thumb on my cheek moves, caressing. Would it be strange for me to close my eyes and just feel?

Then he shifts a fraction, bringing us even closer if that’s possible, and a tremble runs down my spine. Instinctual awareness overwhelms me, and I crave something. Now.

His hand on my ribs shifts again, and his fingers brush the scars on my back at the exact same second lightning cracks through the sky and reality zaps through me. My scars! I jerk away, insanely aware I’m panting, and I fight every urge in me to run as I stagger back a step. Oh my God, did he feel them?

Suddenly, I’m hot, burning, blazing, and my throat goes raw.

I told him to be tender with you. That you’re one of the good ones. Anne’s words come back to me in a weird rush.

West backs away in silence, and we just stare at each other for a few seconds. Then he breaks eye contact first, turning and going to sit on the gazebo’s bench. Everything about him seems apprehensive and strained, and I don’t move for a good solid minute as I concentrate on getting myself back in control.

Rain slows to a drizzle now and I shiver. A few joggers resume their run on the paths below. Silence hangs between us, and I can see the anxiety that I feel in him, too. Suddenly I want the sensation back from a moment ago and not all this thinking.

West gives a defeated sigh, and the sound of it breaks my heart. I made that sound.

He looks at the spot beside him, silently inviting me, and I move over to sit. I need to say something and make all this awkwardness go away. Because…I like West. I don’t want to run him off. He’s such a part of my everyday life now, I can’t imagine him not in it. I can’t imagine him not being my friend.

I shiver again, and he lifts his arm to put it around me.

“Okay?” he asks.

That question absolutely warms me, and I nod as he wraps his arm around me and pulls me in snug, cocooning me with all that is him. Together we watch the remnants of the rain, the sun sneaking out, and more joggers emerging.

Minutes pass and West turns to me. “This is nice.”

I’m so glad the weirdness is dissipating. “Yes, it is. I’m…I’m sorry it’s so hard to be around me sometimes.”

“You’re worth the effort,” he whispers.

“Thank you,” I whisper back, relaxing, slowly gaining back my comfort level.

“There’s a strength in you,” he quietly tells me. “You just need to believe in it.”

Stunned, I look over at him.

He lowers his head so his lips brush my ear, and a tremor skips down my neck. “One day you’ll really see that.”

I hope he’s right.

For a few seconds, he toys with the ends of my short wet hair, and I close my eyes and just enjoy the tugging on my scalp. True affection. No wonder people crave it. No wonder people need it. It’s wonderful.

When I open my eyes back up, I find West’s black ones intensely locked on mine. “You ready to head back?” I ask.

“No. But I suppose we should.”

No, I really wasn’t, either, but we jog back in silence as I replay what just happened between us over and over again in my head.

Finally, we reach the hotel and push through the revolving door into the lobby.

“West!” a reporter waves.

The camera starts flashing, and I duck and make a demon dash for the stairwell. No!