Chapter Forty-One
Chloe opened her office door and frowned at the antique teddy bear with copper button eyes sitting on the floor. She picked it up, noting the vintage style mouth and stitching.
“Tommy, do you recognize this?”
He looked up from the basket of freshly washed clothes he was hanging. “Never saw it before.”
“It was outside of my office. Do you think it belongs to one of the residents?” They only had two at the moment.
“No.”
Her gaze narrowed at his quick answer. “We should at least ask.”
“Go ahead and ask, but it doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“How do you know?”
He sighed and hung a shirt on the display wrack. “Maybe Cupid left it, Chloe.”
“Was Trenton here?” That had to be what he meant. Either that or she was missing the punch line.
“I saw nothing.”
He was no help. “I can just check the security cameras.”
“Sure, if you want to be a brat about it.” He winked.
Her lips twisted as she fought a grin. She carried it back upstairs and placed it on one of the empty shelves in her office. The gesture was sweet—if it had actually been Trenton who left the bear.
Within an hour she was rolling back the security feed, because, yes, she had issues. With everything she’d gone through of late and her duty to protect those staying at BASE, she couldn’t rest until she was certain who had been outside of her door. Trenton had access codes now and the necessary clearances, but…
She exhaled as she watched the footage, recognizing his large form approach her door as he bent and carefully placed the antique bear on the floor. She smiled, almost wishing she hadn’t needed the reassurance but feeling much more at ease now that she was certain.
The next day a small box wrapped in twine sat outside of her door. She searched the hallway but saw no one. Inside the box sat a vintage pocket watch. She placed it with the others in her collection, making sure it was in the front.
For a week straight she found little trinkets at her door, each one uniquely beautiful and showing her that he paid attention to the things she liked. She wanted to do something in return, so she took a detour on her way to work Friday morning and picked him up a stainless steel travel mug and had his initials engraved in it.
Later that day, when he was unpacking a large shipment of equipment in the gym, he looked up from sipping said mug and gave her a knowing smile. She lingered by the door.
“Where you looking for something, doll?”
“No. I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”
His brow lifted. “There’s plenty I need. What are you offering?”
She didn’t dare step any closer. “How’s the coffee?”
His smile held. “It’s the best I’ve tasted in years.”
“Good.” She reached into her pocket and held out the rock that had been left by her door that morning. “Do you know what this is?”
He took a step, still leaving several feet between them. “Looks like a rock.”
“I know it’s a rock.” But she didn’t understand the meaning behind it after a week of other trinkets. “I’m trying to figure out why someone would leave it by my office.”
He took three slow steps to cross the distance between them. “May I?”
She placed it in his palm and he examined it as if he’d never seen it before when she knew he was the one who left it. There had to be some meaning behind it.
“It’s a sedimentary rock. See all the little granules of sand and broken shells? Look how you can see all the layers on this side. Each one’s different.”
She stepped closer and glanced up when she heard him inhale close to her hair. His gaze held hers. “Why would someone leave this for me?” There were several thin layers built over time.
“Hmm. I’m not sure.” He placed it in her hand. “Careful, it looks fragile. In the wrong hands, it could break. I’d keep it somewhere safe. It’s rare to find such a pretty stone with so many layers. I bet each one tells a different story.” His thumb dragged over one beveled edge. “Each one made it stronger. Even these little broken pieces… It’s all part of what makes it unique and beautiful, fragile yet resilient.”
Her fingers closed protectively over the rock. “Is this rock supposed to represent me?”
Head still tipped close to hers, he smiled. “I don’t think it would be as pretty if it still was just a smooth little pebble that never moved or changed. Its imperfections are what make it special. I bet you could search the world and never find a stone exactly like that one.” His fingers brushed over the backs of her knuckles. “That’s something I’d take care of. Something that wouldn’t be able to be replaced if anything ever happened to it.”
She blinked as he casually strolled back to his boxes and picked up his coffee mug, his blue eyes watching her as he took a long sip and winked.
When she returned to her office, she placed the stone on her desk, turning it so the roughest side with all the layers faced her chair. Of all the treasures he’d left her that week, this one was by far her new favorite.
Her client list was low but BASE kept her busy. They never had more than a few residents each month and the times she offered her counseling services, she was left weighted in a solemn state of mind. She was helping, but it didn’t feel like enough. What worried her most were all the emails from women promising they’d get there but never showed.
Trenton made a habit of arriving in the mornings and lingering until she left to pick up the boys from school. Every day he’d walk her to her car, but he never made any move to kiss her or ask her on another date. She was selfishly satisfied with the comfortable way they interacted. He made her happy and surprised her regularly with subtle gestures like the novel he’d left by her door that week.
Missing him, she took her lunch down to the gym. He’d set up a desk in the corner and sat with his head bowed over some paperwork.
“Am I interrupting?”
His head lifted and he put down the pencil he held. “Not at all.”
She took the seat across from his desk and opened her lunch, splitting her sandwich in two and handing him half. “What are you working on?”
“Schedules for the classes.”
“I hope we have more residents soon or you won’t have anyone to teach.”
“If you build it they will come. You gotta be patient.”
“I sent a few women some bus tickets today.” She shipped the tickets to a public pick up point and hoped this time the women found a way to use them.
“You’ve been doing that a lot.”
“I know. It’s not the most fiscally responsible way, but I can’t read their letters and do nothing.”
“Can you write it off?”
“No. It comes out of my pocket.”
“What happens when you start getting more letters? You can’t finance every woman’s journey.”
She peeled away the crust of her sandwich. “I know. I’ve been thinking about a fundraiser, but I feel like we have to be more established to start asking private donors for contributions.”
He said nothing.
“My biggest fear is not being able to help the woman who needs it most. I can’t stomach the cost of a bus ticket getting in the way of someone’s happiness. So many say they’ll come and they never show up.”
Her mind flashed to the time she tried to run away and failed. Rotating her wrist, remembering her scream as Marcus slammed it in the car door, she let out a long breath and shook away a chill.
“If you’re worried about staying afloat, we could close off this section of the building and open the self-defense classes to the public. They’d never have to know what’s hiding upstairs.”
“That’s a possibility.” She crumpled up her trash and put it back in her lunch bag.
“It’ll get there, doll. I have faith in your dream.”
She smiled, his confidence lending itself to hers. “Thank you.” She watched him as he sat back and rocked in his chair. “Trenton, would you like to come to our house for dinner tonight?”
His smile told her he’d been waiting for her to ask. “I’d love to.”
The boys were happy to see Trenton. He listened to Mattie play piano and played a few video games with Dayton, who no longer brooded and seemed much happier this school year.
After dinner, they watched a movie and he held his hand open on his thigh. Her gaze continuously turned to his open palm and splayed fingers until she finally laced her fingers with his. Focused on the screen, he closed his hand around hers and smiled.
A storm unleashed in her stomach, warm and exciting. The turbulent way her nerves bounced whenever he was near put a sense of urgency inside of her she couldn’t navigate. The looks, the feather-light touches, they were all pleasant and therefore confusing.
More confusing was the hollowness she suffered when they parted. The more time they spent together the more she looked for him when he wasn’t there. Her thoughts turned to him at night and during her solitary moments of the day.
Her thoughts became so preoccupied with Trenton, she hardly ever thought about Marcus. Then one day out of the blue, she realized, as if she didn’t already know, that Marcus was dead.
Dead. Never coming back. She’d pulled the trigger and finally exhaled as he drew his last breath. No sense of remorse came and perhaps her fear of guilt was what kept her from accepting the finality of her actions. She’d killed her husband.
The police, when she’d sat down with them, had done their own investigation. Everyone who knew her gave a statement and Nathan had handled the legal matters to shield her from the unsavory memories whenever possible. But not once had anyone made her feel as if her actions were not justified.
The things Marcus had done to her… They were cruel and pre-meditated, guaranteed to inflict the most harm. He’d given her no choice but survival because in those last horrific moments his intent to murder her had been painfully clear.
She fought. She defended herself. And she … was alive.
The simple realization had her lowering into her seat and dropping her weight like an anvil. He was dead. The finality of such an epiphany struck hard and left her numb. She wanted to tell someone but that would just be stating the obvious. They all knew he was dead. They knew how and why, so how come this information was just processing in her brain now, months after the fact?
He was gone. Forever. Dead. It was an absolute that could not be undone and the realization filled her with a grotesque giddiness.
Place your bets. I bet dead. Dead it is! I’m gonna let it ride on dead. Place your bets again... Dead! I can’t lose! He’s always going to be dead!
She grinned and covered her mouth, ashamed to joke about such things but not ashamed for what she’d done. She was probably a little crazy, but who wouldn’t be?
Yes, it was horrible to rejoice in the death of the father of her children, but he’d never really fathered them or taken the time to know them—even when he’d had the chance. He was too interested in cloning himself to see that her boys were already better than him.
He could never hurt her again. She was free. So why wasn’t she living the life she dreamed of someday having, embracing all that was stolen away for so long? Her time with Marcus didn’t represent everything she was. She was no longer borrowing happiness for a time, she was entitled to it—forever. He was the one who had stolen her entitlement away. But in the end, she took her freedom back. Permanently.
This was her life and her choice how to live. Why had she been so convinced she didn’t deserve to be happy again? She wanted to be happy—dear God, she wanted it!
She hated his control, but that should have died with him. Was it a force of habit? Because he was gone and she was here, yet she was still letting him control her from the grave.
She bolted up from her chair and scowled. She needed to do something. She needed to do something right now. Something that proved she was in control.
Storming out of her office, she marched down the stairs and into the gym. Trenton was sorting equipment and looked up as she entered. “Hey, beautiful. You all right?”
The walls were covered with padding. Different kinds of punching bags hung suspended from the ceiling, and the floors sported a glossy new finish.
“No, I’m not all right. This whole time Marcus has been dead and I didn’t realize he was really dead until about two minutes ago.”
He raised a brow. “Come again?”
She huffed and shook her head. “I’ve given him control from the grave. I knew he was dead. I saw him draw his last breath. Nathan faxed me a copy of the death certificate, I got his money, and I sold his possessions. But it never clicked. And now that all these light bulbs are flashing like crazy in my head, I feel like a fool standing in a blinding spotlight.”
He grinned and shoved the box aside. Crossing the mats he wrapped his arms around her and pressed his lips into her hair. She tensed, but he held her loosely and waited for the tension in her shoulders to ease. She was too enraged by her stupidity to worry about their proximity.
“You’re not a fool. You spent six years hiding from an invisible man, a man you never saw, yet existed enough for you to always fear him. Just because you couldn’t see him didn’t make him any less real or dangerous. It makes sense that you would continue thinking along the same lines. You didn’t see him before. You don’t see him now. But this time he’s never coming back. Ever.”
The therapist inside of her recognized this for the breakthrough it was. And Trenton had predicted something like this when they had their first “business” dinner not long ago. Someone should be paying him.
“I’m so angry at myself for wasting so much time. When I was there, I thought I’d never escape. And here I am, free to do whatever I please, and I’m not even living!”
“Sure you are, doll.”
“No, not the way I want. I’m still letting him control parts of my life.”
“You’ll get there. Here.” He turned her to one of the bigger bags hanging from the ceiling. “Give me your rings.”
“Trenton, I told you this isn’t my thing.”
“Have you ever tried it?”
“No.”
“Then give me your rings.”
She hesitantly removed her jewelry, certain this would hurt more than it would heal. He slipped them into his pocket and adjusted her shoulders.
“Punch the bag. It’s the second best way to relieve tension.”
“What’s the first?”
“Sex.”
She rolled her eyes. “Walked right into that one.”
He chuckled, adjusting her arms so her hands were in front of her chest. Chills raced down her spine, but she focused on the target, hoping this might relieve some of her tension.
“Okay. Now make a fist. No, no. Put your thumbs on the outside so you don’t hurt yourself.” His warm breath tickled the back of her neck. “Now, spread your feet apart and sway with me, but keep your hands up.”
His loose grip rested on her hips and she shut her eyes, bracing for panic that never came.
“Keep yourself relaxed. Don’t tighten up.” They continued to sway in a slow bobbing glide, back and forth, back and forth. “Doll, you can’t aim if your eyes are shut.”
“Oh, sorry.”
Her breath sucked in as he pressed a kiss to her neck. “That’s okay.” He held her forearm. “You’re going to aim for the center of the bag so you don’t lose your balance. Just like this.” He extended her arm, touching her knuckles to the bag just above eye level.
“I’ve never hit anyone before. Well, except…”
“Shh, you’re not hitting someone. You’re hitting a bag of sand. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have feelings.” He stepped back. “Go ahead. Give it a try.”
Straightening her shoulders, she punched. The bag didn’t move. She took a deep breath and swung again, this time hitting a little harder.
“Good. Keep swinging until you find your rhythm.”
She really wasn’t good at this. She hit the bag, but it didn’t make a loud noise like when guys landed a punch. After a few minutes, she lowered her arms and faced him.
He smiled expectantly. “Well, what do you think?”
“I think sex is more fun.”
Shock lit his eyes and a smile broke over his face. His laughter filled her belly with a sort of liquid heat she hadn’t felt in months. His lashes lowered over his dark blue eyes as he gradually approached, gentle fingers carefully brushing a hair away from her face.
“I concur.”
Her breath caught as she stared up at him, uncertainty and courage melding into determination. He was going to kiss her and she wasn’t going to stop him. She was ready. She wanted his lips on her.
Her lashes lowered as he tipped his head to the side, angling closer by small degrees. His warm breath skated over her mouth as the last inch separated them. She shut her eyes…
“Chloe?” The sound of Jennifer’s voice had her eyes springing open. “Your one o’clock is waiting.”
“Thank you, Jennifer.” Chloe touched her burning cheeks and walked out of the gym without looking back. “We were just inspecting the new gym equipment.”
Jennifer smiled and muttered, “Let me know when it’s time to check the mats. I’ll lock the door for you.”
Trenton’s laughter echoed.