CHAPTER 17 - MALLORY
When I finally opened my eyes the next morning, I could tell something was wrong. The angles were all wrong, the light was coming in from the wrong direction. As I turned my head to the side I realized that I was lying sideways, my face pointing at the head of the bed. That was…also wrong — no wonder things looked so out of whack.
Then it hit me - I was alone in bed. Barrett wasn’t here with me. I could feel his manly scent lingering in the room, like a memory that was slipping away, about to be forgotten.
That was the wrongest of all the many wrong things with this picture.
I sat up, looking around, remembering that I was naked and immediately losing all surprise about it. On the floor I could see a pile of my clothes, but it was clear that Barrett’s had been looted and taken away.
A cold rush of fear crept over me in an instant, and I scrambled out of bed, wanting to both hide in a corner and dive back into bed all over again and cover myself from head to toe with the blankets.
As soon as my feet hit the floor I stopped, whipping my head around again and listening as hard as I could.
Nothing.
Silence. A creak here and there, the standard stuff from a building full of wooden joints.
The apartment was so small Barrett would have to be completely immobile for me not to be able to hear him from here. I didn’t want to chance it, though.
After about a minute I realized that it was going to look really dumb if he came back in here and found me standing naked by the bed, huddled over like I was trying to become part of the furniture. I almost laughed at myself as I leaned over the pile of clothing and started picking things up in the right order.
When I stood back up, clothes draped over my shoulders, holding my panties in one hand, I finally noticed the scrap of paper on the end table next to the bed.
Pursing my lips, I rushed forward toward the table, almost tripping and definitely dropping most of the clothing I had just picked up. I grabbed the note and opened it, fearing the worst.
Mal didn’t want to eat the same stuff again, went to get us something tasty and fresh coffee. Back soon, don’t worry. - Barrett
I sighed and threw the note on the floor after reading it a second time, mad at myself for getting so worked up so quickly.
Of course, Barrett was just getting something to eat. That was the most natural thing in the world! Why did I have to go off and get crazy about something so small? He wasn’t even my boy-
I sat back down on the bed, and as soon as I touched down I threw my self back on the mattress, letting the pile of blankets I’d so quickly run away from envelop me and entice me back into them.
No, Barrett wasn’t my boyfriend. He was…well, I didn’t know what he was. Guardian? Protector? Knight in shining armor? I tried to picture gruff, constantly scowling Barrett as a knight using very floofy language and I had to clap my hand over my mouth to keep the giggling in.
No, that wasn’t like him at all. And what was I to him? Besides, you know, a…complication. The one impression that I’d gotten of Barrett after our brief time together so far was that he was a man who enjoyed his routine — who enjoyed keeping things the way they were. He’d clearly seen enough excitement that new things looming produced a cynical look rather than wide-eyed appreciation.
I’d have to figure that part out sooner or later. Of course over the last day I’d been daydreaming about Barrett and I having a small house together somewhere far away from Meridian, but I knew that that was most likely just a fantasy, a pipe dream at best.
I didn’t even know how he felt about me, not really. We’d been thrown into a crazy blender of nonstop insanity, and even though we could see the end of the tunnel now, I don’t think either of us had any idea what things would look like on the other side.
I closed my eyes and rolled around in bed for a few more minutes, soaking in the feeling of being safe and anonymous, just a random girl in a random apartment in a random city, just for a moment, even though Barrett wasn’t around.
Considering how cooped up I had been in this place, and how scary the idea of even a stranger looking at me right now, for fear that they could be somehow connected to Tate Norman’s underground dealings, or even an assassin hired by Tate to make sure that I didn’t implicate him in the murder I had seen him commit two nights earlier…yeah, feeling anonymous and hidden was exactly what I needed right now.
I couldn’t imagine that this was the kind of life Barrett had chosen. I understood doing things for one’s country, the call to service - I totally got all that, and I was grateful to him and others like him who chose to answer that call. But at the same time, Barrett had decided to stay in that life after the service to country part was over. What did that say about him?
I turned my head from side to side, trying to stop myself from going there. Who was I to question his life choices? The man had saved my life, both before and after showing me the hottest sex of my life. I was only lying on this bed because Barrett was in the right place at the right time — just after I had been in the worst place at the wrong time.
I closed my eyes and imagined being back in his arms again, feeling him wrap himself around me, pull me down toward him and envelop me. Almost unconsciously I wrapped my own arms around my body, twisting back and forth on the bed, imagining his huge and rough hands where my small hands were, up and down my sides, touching me all over.
When I snapped my eyes open I was breathing heavily, and sheepishly I sat up on the bed, knowing that if anyone had caught me just now feeling myself I would have turned beet red.
I shook my head and got off the bed before turning around and making it, puffing up the pillows and re-arranging the disaster area I had created out of the blankets. No wonder Barrett had made himself scarce!
He must have needed all his army training to survive a night in the same bed as me.
I was halfway into the kitchen, not looking forward to figuring out how to work the coffee machine when I remembered that Barrett had mentioned bringing back some fresh cups of that sweet, sweet nectar of the gods, and even in my advanced state of withdrawal, I could wait a few minutes more for some truly good stuff.
I looked around the room, not seeing any newspapers or magazines around. Nothing to read, nothing to do. The apartment was bare, except for the basic furniture and the small stash of board games that Barrett kept in the closet.
I had to stifle a smile when images of how hard Barrett had concentrated last night when we were playing that game popped back into my head. I don’t think he had looked that serious or that deep in thought when he was trying to get us out of the Norman building the night earlier; you know, when our lives had actually been in danger.
I didn’t really have anything to do until Barrett came back. If this had been a regular morning I would be checking my phone, making plans for the day, seeing what was going on in the world, and what crazy things had happened overnight.
The weird thing I noticed already was that even after just a few hours of disconnection from that world I’d known before, the ache to return to it had gotten much, much quieter.
Sure, I didn’t want there to be a crazy combination businessman and crime lord coming after me, trying to kill me, but I didn’t exactly want things to go back to normal just so quickly.
As long as I was safe, I was happy not going back to things exactly the way they were.
I knew before it hit me that the reason for that was Barrett.
We had met under absolutely the worst possible circumstances, and I still couldn’t look inside his mind and see just how he ticked, but whatever he and I had going right now…it was pretty great.
Even with the board game thing.
I looked around the room again, trying to find something to do while I waited for Barrett with breakfast. I had just swept my eyes over the house phone, sitting on the counter near the sink, when it rang.
I jumped with fright, shocked at the piercing sound coming from the phone. It seemed so foreign to me, I realized as I collected myself and poured my brain back into my head.
The phone kept ringing. I shifted my eyes left and right, like I expected Barrett or someone, anyone, to appear out of thin air and give me advice on what to do.
I shouldn’t pick it up, I knew. Nothing good could come of it. No one knew I was here, just me and Barrett. He probably wasn’t the one calling, he was already close by.
He wouldn’t call just to ask what I wanted in my coffee or what flavor Danish I wanted, that wasn’t his style.
But what if it was Barrett, and it was important? What if he was warning me that someone was about to come into the apartment?
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt myself start sweating.
I didn’t know what to do; never had answering a phone been so scary to me.
All I could do was stare at it.
Two rings.
Pause.
Three rings.
Finally, just before the fourth ring, I shot my hand out and grabbed the phone. It felt weird to hold a phone that didn’t fit in my pocket outside of the office — no one I knew had anything but a cell phone these days.
My blood ran cold as I lifted the receiver to my ear. I knew I was breathing heavily, but hoped the person on the other line couldn’t hear it.
I didn’t dare say a word, and just listened.
When the voice spoke, I knew who it was, and my entire body turned to ice.
“Did you kill her yet?” Tate Norman asked through the phone.