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SHANDIE
I wasn't sure why Bill had called Carlisle Jonathan. But it would make sense if Carlisle went by a different name.
All my fears and paranoia wrapped around inside me as I put on a fake smile and left the room. I didn't even need to go into my office to pull out the computer. Doing a quick search on my phone would give me all the information I would need. Sure enough, Carlisle Smith was an innocent man.
Carlisle Smith had no past, virtually nothing until about five years ago when he first started showing up in credit reports and employment.
If Carlisle had never been arrested, then maybe Jonathan Carlisle was the one in my house and not Carlisle Smith. Searching for Jonathan and I added on Carlisle for just a place to start and Jonathan Carlisle had a record for assaulting women.
Assaulting women?
He took a plea bargain for a case six to seven years before and did a couple years of time in Boise, Idaho – according to the reports.
My skin crawled. I should’ve suspected something when he used a different name on the profile or when he suddenly was a pilot and no record in his past? What was wrong with me? My guard had dropped and I had let myself down.
I put my phone on the counter and covered my mouth with my hand. Did Colin know? I thought for sure I'd heard Bill wrong. Maybe they had just been friends, but I knew Carlisle was hiding things from me. Did I call him Jonathan? I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how much of it was a complete lie and how much of it...
He’d kissed me. Was that fake? I thought we were on the same page as far as feelings were concerned. I’ve been excited to see him and I still couldn’t believe we were married, but now... Now I was even more worried that I had fallen for someone who never had the same feelings for me.
What kind of a naïve idiot did that make me?
Tears burned my eyes and I struggled to keep my calm. I had to hold it together – at least there in my home I did. I had no idea what was going on and while I wanted to ask him, I didn’t know if I could trust him.
The front door closed and I moved to the other side of the granite counter, silently thanking my mom for putting in the island when she’d built the house. No matter what the truth was, I no longer felt safe with Carlisle in the house.
I think that new development hurt more than anything else. Was I able to keep myself detached because I expected this from people? I wished I could say I was strong enough for that, but there was nothing detached about the way my heart felt like it had been poked with a thousand little needles.
Xanax. I needed a Xanax – or five. I didn’t want to feel the way I was feeling. Or believe the things I was being forced to confront.
Where was he? His friend had left a little while ago, but I couldn’t go searching for him. I had to stay there. I couldn’t move. I was frozen. He’d made my home unsafe.
Another minute passed and then he was suddenly there, standing in the doorway of the kitchen. His gaze was intent while his smile attempted to be comforting.
I knew all about predators who tried to be unassuming. His faux concern just cooked my worry and fear into anger.
Had Carlisle become a predator in my mind? Where had the man gone that I was falling for his sweet side, his gentle side? Was he the type of predator that women thought were all sweet and supportive and then bam?
My misery was a mix of anger and fear and I could feel it coming off me. I struggled to maintain it, to rein it in with rational thought and slow breathing. But my emotions and confusion couldn’t be controlled.
I grabbed for my throat as I attempted to breathe normally. Nothing was working. What was I going to do?
“Let me explain.” Carlisle continued to follow me around the island. He reached out for me, as if he could stop the whirlwind of emotions ripping through me.
I slapped my hand on the counter and he stopped. I shook my head, my chin up and my gaze trained on him. I have no idea how I got my words out, but they were strangled and in a different pitch than normal. “This whole time, I’ve been afraid of who is out there, what's out there, so much to the point I can’t leave my home.” I scoffed at myself, the moment surreal. “Yet, here I am, welcoming Jack the Raper into my house. Well, good job, Carlisle. You tricked me. You must be so proud.”
His eyes deepened with hurt as he winced at my phrase.
I wasn’t done. I didn't stop there. I pushed forward, torn apart and wanting someone else to hurt with me. I whispered, “You must laugh at me all the time.”
Carlisle took another step towards me, but we had stopped at the point where I was at the base of the stairs. I had an out and I was going to take it. I guided myself with my hand, grabbing onto the railing and took one step backward.
A lock on my bedroom door upstairs would keep anyone out. I didn’t care that Carlisle’s room was down the hall from mine. That was a non-issue when they weren’t adjoining and he was going to leave. I suddenly knew he had to leave. There was no other way I would survive the night.
“It's not what you think.” Carlisle shook his head and took another step toward me. His voice was plaintive and pleading. Everything about him said to give him a chance. I couldn’t trust him.
My breath came in gasps and I clenched my fingers around the railing, desperate to flee and throw myself on my bed to cry. Wrinkling my nose, I forced myself to work up the courage to get my words out. Finally, as if they were ground from my mouth, they came with a vengeance but only enough to be a hoarse whisper that hurt my throat. “I want you out. Get out of my house now.”
Carlisle opened his hands down by his waist and implored me with his eyes. “Where will I go?”
I couldn't care. I couldn't get past that he had lied to me about who he was. Did I honestly care about his past? I wasn’t sure at that point, because I could barely control my mental state. I needed him to leave, at least for the moment. At least until I could get myself together so I could figure out how to deal with everything. The score of emotions were outside of my expertise to handle.
Honestly, I probably could get past the fact that he had a record, even that what he did should make him terrifying, make him a monster. Until I could get the Carlisle I knew to mesh with the Jonathan I had discovered, I needed him out. I shook my head and pointed at the door. “Get out.”
I didn’t wait for him to do what I asked. I didn’t wait to catch my breath. Before I passed out I fled up the stairs and disappeared into my room. I locked the locks, and crawled into the closet. I didn’t want to try to make it to my bed. I just wanted to cry. To hide and cry.
Xanax would have to wait.
I needed my sanity back first.
