I could have gone in pajamas. Part of me didn’t care, desiring only to be stubbornly oppositional. And then I think of the kiss. I prayed the theater offered wine during intermission, because I didn’t know how I would get through hours alone in a dark theater with Julian. Not after watching him construct a trinity knot, thinking about the way his fingertips were the perfect juxtaposition of destruction and gentleness, and…whoa. Brain, chill.
I stood in his kitchen, waiting for the sound of his feet tapping against the hardwood and the click of his lock, signaling my independence within the confines of Julian’s home. It was twisted and dangerous of me to think so, but with the calm silence pillowing my existence, I found myself sort of missing him. Oh, sweet Jesus. All I could hope for, to get myself through the day, was that Julian told the truth when informing me on multiple occasions that I was as safe as I’d ever be. I had my phone, he locked me in, and his brother had lovely tattoos. Wait. Go back. Liam’s stomach is not what I should be thinking about. My phone!
It came flooding back, as though the night was temporarily erased after spending my morning gawking at Liam’s stomach. But it’s so pretty. Maybe he’ll let me touch it just once. Eek! I couldn’t think like that; those sorts of thoughts only led to trouble—big, dangerous, silver-gun-wearing and gag-threatening trouble. Their cross tattoos danced around in my mind, like a jingle or chorus of a song that refused to leave no matter how hard you plead with your conscience.
I quickly left the kitchen, marching along the hardwood in my routine path. My phone was where I left it, near the obnoxiously ostentatious sapphire ring that could’ve paid my rent for a few months. I can’t do that. That’d be insulting. I didn’t know why I cared. I took the phone with me as I returned to my bed, climbing beneath the covers where I was rescued from another bizarre dream. Scrolling through my limited call log, I found what piqued my interest. It was foolish to allow butterflies to wiggle within my stomach. I shushed them with a swift reminder of how evil the family was, and I felt better.
“This is a surprise,” he greeted, “and to what do I owe this pleasure?”
Fighting the smile that naturally appeared across my stupid face, I replied to Liam, “I hope I’m catching you clothed this time.” I laughed, puzzled by how comfortably humor came to me with him, a stranger. His warm chuckle was greeted with an echo of conversation in the background.
“Unfortunately, I am. I can see about changing that for you, if you’d like, bird.” His voice lowered. “Does…good morning…yes…bird? Are you there? I’m sorry. I’ve just gotten to a meeting. What’s going on? Are you okay?” Between Liam speaking with people around him and the noise screaming in my head, I lost the reason for calling him. My eyes wandered beyond my feet. Ah, yes. His pretty, toned, tattooed tummy.
“Take me to lunch.”
“Pardon?” His laughter was infectious. I was one breath from a giggle before I replied, only partially guilty for my feelings.
“Take me to lunch, librarian. Finish answering my questions.”
“So the kitten has some teeth,” Liam muttered with amusement. “I’m just meeting your landlord as we speak.” Shit. I imagined what Julian would say, let alone think, if he knew I broke his unspoken rule of only using that phone to call him. The one who didn’t kidnap me.
“Never mind,” I conceded, embarrassed that I propositioned Liam, hoping to inquire further about the mysteries of this world. I used the phone four times: once when Julian engaged in an entirely distracting battle of control and flirtation, once to call Julian to save me, once when Liam called after Julian saved me, and once to research the beautiful Celtic ink upon their skin. That time, I actually used it to request time with one of those bastards. I’m losing it. There must be something in the air here. Oh, yes; Julian.
“No, bird.” Liam’s voice was curt. “I’m going to mind right now. Lunch would be great. I’ll send a driver for you at noon. Promptly. I look forward to it.”
“Me too,” I agreed, “and…don’t—”
“Bird, he’ll never know unless you tell him.” Click.
It frightened me that my cheeks burned with an infectious smile caught by the contagion that was Liam Molloy. He was just as devastatingly gorgeous, possibly even as lethal, but the humor and light in his personality was refreshing. That’s a dangerous term to use. While holding one of Julian’s many torture devices, I clicked through the screens until the clock displayed. It was nearing half past nine. Plenty of time to snoop, or research, maybe a little of both.
I needed a long, excruciatingly hot bath, but the idea of being held hostage in a body of water inside Julian’s home was unnerving. The last time I took an actual bath was days ago, and then someone tried to kill me. Julian saw me naked. He saw me naked, held me naked, protected me naked, and saved me. Naked. And his eyes never flinched from mine. Just skin.
I couldn’t let go of that thought. I was bound beneath the luxury of soft feathers and cotton, my senses heightened by the overpowering aroma of Julian’s world, and all I could think of was the reality that someone tried to hurt me.
Initially, the memory felt like a dream, another confusing image splattered along the galleries of my mind, indecipherable and curious. It was surreal. It happened, I ignored it, and then I was in my bed at Julian’s, a near stranger. The near-stranger who saved me three times. Saved me. It began to trickle in a little more painfully with each minute, violent slides of film slicing through the naïve peace I felt while in bed. I remembered my bath, being angry and disgusted with Julian, but something in my heart knew calling him was my safety. Something buried within me, fighting my better judgment, understood and acted without further thought when calling him.
I wiped away the tickling beads of sweat that condensed along my forehead like a glass of water outside in August. He saw me naked and he didn’t even look at me. He saved me. He didn’t even think of anything but me in that moment. Julian distracted me while I hid beneath the sink, blinding me as his companion removed the corpse from my kitchen. I remembered his scratched boots, the leather worn with lines of salt from another Boston winter. He. Again. Me. Naked. My heart raced through my chest, threatening my ribs as it violently announced its panicked existence. I had to find the thermostat; I was burning.
Shaking feet guided me from the bed in search of something to turn down the sauna. There was nothing in the bedroom, so I ventured into the hall, also to no avail. I’m suffocating. I clawed at the collar of my shirt, hopelessly pulling the saturated fabric from my neck. Swallowing the trepidation I felt about entering Julian’s bedroom as my third stop in search of the thermostat, I was instantly hit with a cloud of him. The air was potent, thick and lethal, reminding me of the distracting comfort thinking of him became, even when I should hate him. I do hate him. No, I don’t. I’m pathetic. Yes, I hate him. It smells nice in here.
His bed was made, barely even a feather out of balance in the crisp white fabric. My fingers twitched, resisting the urge to climb beneath the layers, remembering how secure I felt when he brought me in there after traumatizing me with that fairytale movie. See, I hate him.
I reluctantly pushed aside desperate thoughts to curl up and sleep beneath the ridiculously soft fabric and scanned the walls of his bedroom for the thermostat. There was a small electronic screen next to his closet door, almost hidden by the panel that hung slightly ajar. My eyes flickered in all directions, ensuring I was alone, while I nervously tiptoed across his bedroom floor toward the screen. A simple touch of my index finger sent the screen into a tizzy; bright lights illuminated the screen, requesting a password I didn’t know. Wonderful. I knew nothing of Julian to think of the passcode for his thermostat. I entered random numbers, pressing my luck, but by the third incorrect attempt, a small beeping sound started to trickle out from the screen.
The panel screamed at me, setting off alarms and violent beeps that suggested I was a robber or criminal. Ha. That’s ironic. I poked at random buttons to no avail. Naturally assuming I set the self-destruct setting for his building, I flew from the bedroom and landed straight into my bed, diving beneath the covers like a frightened child. The air around my face was hot, melting my already sweltering self as I refused to move from the self-inflicted suffocating protection of my blankets. I no longer heard the beeping. Maybe I’m safe. The covers hummed, softly vibrating near my knee. The stupid phone. I was afraid to pull out my head. What if I destroyed his system? Oh, wait, that might deplete his stalking capabilities. Once I get over this fear of exploding, I’ll have to destroy more things.
The buzzing continued, refusing to stop. I lifted my knees, pushing the demonic device closer to my hand so I didn’t have to exit the protective confines of the blankets. It buzzed in a violent pattern of repetition. Text messages. One hand reached through a space in the covers and pulled the machine beneath with me, my blurry eyes squinting to read the uncharacteristically frantic messages.
Julian: Please answer your phone.
Julian: Aideen?
Julian: Messing with the thermostat won’t burn down my house. The gas stove is probably the quickest way. Although, I’d miss you. Please don’t.
Julian: Aideen? Answer your phone. Please.
Julian: Why do I now find myself begging for you?
“Hi,” I whispered, answering it from my fort of safety when it rang again.
“I’m having an anxiety attack over here.” Julian’s tone was almost as quiet as mine, suggesting this phone call was breaking the social rules of wherever he was. “I had an alert on my phone that something happened to the heating system. Perhaps someone attempted to burn down my home while I was gone?”
“Sorry.”
“Are you apologizing for trying to destroy my home or for something else, Aideen?”
“I got really hot. I wasn’t trying to break it. I was just…I thought…” My mouth went numb, unable to articulate my thoughts and unsure of whether or not I could even talk with him, allowing him to know and manipulate my weakest of thoughts.
“You what?” he questioned, his tone softly demanding. “What’s wrong?”
“Never mind. I’m sorry to have taken you from whatever you’re doing.” My thumb hovered over the red icon, prepared to end this call, when Julian spoke from the receiver, his tone gentle. Gentle.
“What happened between coffee and now, Aideen? Don’t. I’m coming home right now.”
***
The bedroom door opened with a small creak, a hushed sound I barely deciphered between incoherent thoughts while my brain swelled with heat beneath the cocoon of covers. The sound tickled my heartbeat, but I couldn’t move. I wasn’t as frightened as I had anticipated once Julian ended our phone call. I knew it was him before I felt the mattress shift beneath his weight. The covers were slowly pulled from my face, his index finger holding a layer inches from me while his head tilted sideways in analysis of my current condition.
“Did you at least try the stove first?” His deep blue eyes flickered between mine while a small smile battled his lips. My gaze wandered to those lips, watching the way his tongue slowly licked between them before they sealed together. I shook my head, my lashes wiggling as hair fell over my face. Julian tugged at the blanket, exposing more of my clammy face to his view. I watched with worry as his brows met in mirrored concern, probably regretting the fact he harbored such a nut. Maybe he will let me go. But…I don’t…do I even…what the hell is wrong with me?
“I know that expression,” he whispered with a heavy exhale, eyes scouring my face. “What took you back there?”
“What are you talking about?” Damn wizard. My gaze fell, again mesmerized by the intricate trinity knot around his neck and the way it was just slightly exposed through the open button of his wool coat. He hadn’t even taken it off before coming in. He was either in a hurry to get out or in a hurry to get me.
“You’re hiding under the covers, your already -porcelain skin is whiter than the snow, and you’re sweating while your skin,” the knuckles of his right hand grazed my moistened cheek, “is frigid. What happened, babby? Did you think about the weekend? What took you back there?” I tried to process his words, his attempt at consolation or curiosity. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, why he wanted to know. Julian’s behavior all morning was suspiciously gentle, frighteningly…different. What can I tell him? I don’t want to kill him right now. The longer I let my gaze flicker between his focused stare, I found myself needing Julian. I’m clearly reaching for anyone, anything. Against my better judgment, my mouth opened.
“I hadn’t let myself think of it.” My voice sounded so weak to my ears. “It just came out of nowhere. I have a hard time remembering things sometimes, but this just…it attacked me. The memory. It just…” I felt like a fumbling fool, unable to develop a sentence while Julian’s eyes burned into mine with desperation. Something in him was intrigued by my words, or perhaps he felt obligated to listen. Either way, his gaze refused to falter, maintaining its burning spell while he watched me.
“Do you know why it’s hard for you to remember things, babby?”
“No.” Do you? What type of arrogant question is that? Julian softly pushed the covers further away from my face.
“I am sure you don’t want to discuss it with me.” He paused, his lips opening with a slow intake of breath. “But you need to know what I did there, what happened to protect you, was the only option I would ever have pursued.”
“I don’t want to discuss it with you,” I muttered, tugging back at the edge of the blanket beneath my face for protection. “I want you to tell me why it happened, who it was, why you had me watched, and…”
“What?” Julian’s vibrant eyes flickered back and forth, consuming every particle of my soul through his vision alone, while I lost my words. My body warmed, the chill and paralysis of my nerves subsiding. The strange peace, the dangerous comfort returned to my blood while my mind examined the specimen next to me.
“Why am I so…why does this…”
“Yes, Aideen…” Julian prompted, his head nodding with slow eagerness as though he was somehow reading my mind and already concluded my thought. Yet he waited patiently. This man doesn’t wait, he doesn’t do anything patiently, and he certainly doesn’t want to consume your soul. He is dangerous. He won’t tell me a damn thing. Right now, he is suspiciously…kind.
“Why am I not running from you right now? Why am I refusing to leave?”
“Because you’re safe. I’ve told you that. When I can tell you more, I will. It isn’t a fairytale right now. It isn’t…Aideen, you’ll know when you know too, just as I will know when you know.”
“This is more than a visit to Stockholm,” I mumbled, feeling my face fold with unease and concern as the thought flirted with my mind. “Someone tried to kill me, you saved me, and…I’m sorry I didn’t thank you. I should have, but I need to understand.”
“We hadn’t really talked about it either…the way we left things.”
I looked up at him, my mouth tumbling open before thinking. “You were a huge dick.”
“And you were quite drunk.”
“Get out of here.” I pulled the cover over my face again, groaning with displeasure while almost suffocating. “Please.” He was silent for a moment, hopefully letting me die in peace before I felt his weight lift from the mattress. His footsteps were but a quiet tap against the hardwood as he spoke from the doorway. I peered out of the covers, catching his calm stare.
“No theater tonight.” He shook his head. “I don’t want you feeling pressured after whatever just happened to you.”
“Is there a free dinner involved?”
Julian’s lips parted, his threateningly gorgeous grin forming. “Yes.”
I hid my face again, letting the image of his smile consume my thoughts. The sound of the doorknob turning was an alarm, forcing the covers from my body. I sat up, my body erect and determined. The door opened as Julian heard the shuffling of my covers. He returned to the bedroom with surprise plastered across his face.
“Why did you come back for me just now?” I crossed my arms, protecting my nerves and heart as he approached. His footsteps were confident while he glided toward me from the doorway.
“You’re hurting,” he confessed. “I want to help you with that. I want to save you from hurt. I have a soul somewhere in this body. It might be damaged, jagged, and near its end, but it’s in there.” My fingers twitched with a nervous tremble as he stepped closer, inches from me. I glanced up, following his stare while he again tugged on my mess of hair.
“I’m sorry you keep saving me.” That’s what I had to say? That’s my thanks? That’s all that can come out of my mouth right now? I don’t even know what my heart is feeling, what my mind can process. I just don’t know. I can’t. I almost fell back to the mattress once Julian leaned toward me, his cologne infiltrating my bloodstream with a single breath.
“You should know,” he whispered as his mouth hovered above my left ear, “I will kill every motherfucker who threatens you.” Okay then. Heart: Stopped. I didn’t know what that was. Flirting? Possession? Conspiracy? A threat? It didn’t matter.
Julian left as quickly as he arrived, leaving me alone again in his home. My bottom fell to the mattress while my heart and mind battled in the pit of my stomach. The devil’s cellphone buzzed from the small table next to the bed, pulling my attention from the lingering smell of Julian’s cologne that remained in a cloud of serenity around me. I grabbed the phone from the table and swiped the screen.
Julian: Every single one.
The thought of Julian continuing to make threats hadn’t grown old. I hadn’t developed a passive comfort to it, but the fact he declared his threats toward someone else was a peculiarly bizarre…honor? You idiot. I wouldn’t draft a response. I couldn’t. I clicked off his message and jumped when I noticed it was already nearing noon. I jumped like a teenager. It was almost time for lunch. With Liam.