It Can’t Happen Again
(Darcy)
“Chase, I need to use your phone to call him,” I say, tossing my own phone onto snot mountain.
“Sure,” he says, and hits dial on Liam’s number before passing me the phone.
I take it from him, but it goes straight to voicemail. I hang up and redial, but it goes to voicemail again.
“I have to go to him,” I say, and run into my bedroom.
After shedding my bathrobe and the T-shirt and underwear I’d slept in, I pull on the first things I grab from my drawers. It’s not exactly sexy, but the white jeans and baby blue sweatshirt are there, and fast.
Zipping back into my living area, I grab my purse, keys and dead phone, cram my feet in a pair of ugly tan mules I keep for no good reason at all, and head out the door.
“Wait for us,” Kirsten shouts, scrambling after me.
The two of them arrive at the elevator just as the doors are opening, and step into it after me.
“I’m going to his apartment,” I say.
“Well, in that case, you hardly want me there,” Kirsten says.
“Not really, honey, sorry. I’m really glad you came and told me about this,” I say, and give her a big hug.
“Of course I did, silly. Why don’t you give me your keys and I’ll clean your place up. Assuming you have rubber gloves, of course. There’s no way I’m touching those used Kleenexes with my bare hands.”
“Thanks, you’re the best. There’s a pair under the kitchen sink.”
The elevator opens to the lobby, and I hand her my keys. Chase exits first, with me close behind, leaving Kirsten in the elevator. I follow him onto the street, where he sticks his arm out and hails a cab. One stops immediately and Chase holds the door open while I climb into the backseat.
“Get in,” I say, sliding over.
“You sure? I can follow behind.”
“Of course. Now hurry up.”
Chase gets into the backseat, and shuts the door. I give the driver Liam’s address, and we pull away.
“You really had no idea who he was?” I ask.
“None. But I’m not in the habit of making guesses about my employer.”
Chase, always the professional. He’s like being around the Secret Service.
I gaze vacantly out the window, wondering what I’ll say when I see Liam. Seeing him on Good Morning America taught me one thing, and that’s how much I want him in my life.
He clearly has no more secrets, and I feel bad for making him go to such extremes to make me believe him. I should’ve listened, and given him a chance. I should’ve trusted him.
“I can’t believe he outed himself for me,” I say, shaking my head.
“I’ve never seen him the way he’s been since he met you,” Chase says.
“Really? How?” I ask, my eyes wide as I turn to face Chase.
“No offense, but he used to be a real asshole to people.”
I lean back, shocked to hear Liam described that way. “To you?”
“No, never me. But I’ve seen him verbally shred grown men to the point where tears have flown. And he used to go out picking up women, he never gave a fuck if they were with other guys or not. If he saw one he wanted, he got her. And then he’d have me escort her out of his apartment building when he was done with her.”
“From the fifth-floor fuck pad?” I ask, not wanting to think about him with other women.
“You’ve been to it?”
“No, just heard about it.”
“Well, since he met you, it’s like he’s a different man.”
“He’s not himself with me?”
“I think he is his real self with you. All that other stuff, I don’t know, man. That was anger fueled or something.” Chase pauses, and adds, “It’s not really my place to be saying these things to you. As a bodyguard, everything I see is none of my business, and I never mention it to anyone. But this is fucking huge, and you probably have a right to know how you’ve changed him.”
“Thank you for telling me. I don’t think he’d mind. But don’t worry, our talk is totally confidential.” My mind flicks back to the Eiffel Tower, and I realize how intimately Chase knows both Liam and me.
“I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just I’m in shock, you know.”
“Yeah, I was pretty surprised when he first told me,” I say. Though of course I leave out the part of having his dick inside me at the time.
We near Liam’s block, but the traffic is at a standstill. My knee jiggles, and I’m anxious to see Liam. The only thing I want right now is his arms around me.
“Can I use your phone to try him again?”
“Sure.”
Chase passes me his phone again, but it goes straight to voicemail. Our cab hasn’t moved in ages, and I fight the urge to scream. Why is it so hard for me to get to him?
“Voicemail again. I wonder if he’s even at home,” I say, handing the phone back to Chase. He could be anywhere. Maybe he’s still at the TV studio. We could be wasting all this time sitting in traffic for nothing.
“I’ll phone the doorman,” Chase says.
I turn my attention back out the window. In the near distance, sirens blare and I figure they’re seven or eight blocks from us. And that we’re ten or so from Liam’s. I should just get out and walk.
“Holy fuck,” Chase says into the phone, speaking to the doorman. His words catch my attention, and I eavesdrop.
“Okay, that explains the traffic… They’re clearing now? And is he there? No sign of him? He must be with the police… Ambulance?”
“What’s happening?” I demand, my loud voice echoing around the car’s interior.
“But they’re both caught now?” Chase ignores me and talk into the phone.
“What’s going on?” I yell and grab his arm.
Chase pulls the phone from his ea, and says, “Some idiots tried to kidnap Mr. Jones… Mr. Bannerman.”
“Oh my God,” I say, numb. My entire body starts convulsing, panicking something’s happened. My stomach wretches and I struggle to stop myself from vomiting. Not another boyfriend. Not Liam. I can’t go through that agony again. Especially because this time it would be all my fault.
“There was a car crash and he got away. The doorman doesn’t know if he’s hurt or not. He doesn’t think so. The kidnappers ran and there was a manhunt. He doesn’t know what’s going on now, but they’re clearing the crashed cars right now so we should be moving soon.”
“Fuck that,” I say and open the door.
From the driver’s side passenger door, I haul myself onto the street. Though my body is weak with numbness and worry, I manage to stagger between the cars. After a few car lengths, I’m able to get my legs moving and break into as fast a run as I can go with these stupid shoes on.
Everything seems to be happening in slow motion, but I keep moving as fast as I can between the cars.
At some point, I realize Chase is behind me, but I ignore him and keep going.
Finally, I’m in the midst of fire trucks, ambulances and police cars, all with flashing lights. Two taxis have crushed-in fronts and are being attached to tow trucks. A black SUV has a bashed-in front, and the used airbags shield whatever was inside.
A large mass of nosy onlookers crowd around the area.
“Liam! Liam!” I scream, frantically scanning the area for him.
I can’t see him anywhere, and my knees go weak. It seems as though I’ll buckle to the ground at any moment, but I continue screaming his name, tears now streaming down my cheeks. My heart pounds so hard it physically hurts, and I’m short of breath.
“Liam!”
The door of a police cruiser opens, and, in slow motion, Liam emerges from the car and stands.