CHAPTER 8
LOLA
Drew King was officially the most confusing man I had ever met. His face was set with a perpetual frown, and without facial cues, I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. This was the most I had ever heard him speak, and the slight tug at the corner of his mouth was the only thing that made me think he might have been pulling my leg, but I couldn’t be sure. One thing was obvious, he knew about my OCD and didn’t seem bothered in the least by my obsessive need to move to an even number row of seats. Allowing my head to fall back against the head rest, I closed my eyes, and as soon as I did, images of Norman and Pen-Chan fired through my brain. Their bleeding bodies lying against the stark white tiles. My own body came to rigid attention as I reached out and gripped Drew’s arm.
“Someone needs to tell the police about General Gillies and Pen-Chan. Pen-Chan had family who came to visit often. They live in Chiang Mai.” My stomach lurched at the thought of Pen-Chan’s sister finding their lifeless bodies. ”
Drew’s sharp gaze rose from my hand to my eyes. He gave me a solemn nod. “Dillon knows. He'll take care of it.”
Realizing I was still holding on to the sleeve of his jacket, I pulled my hand away quickly, trying not to be obvious about it.
The memory of Norm and Pen-Chan lying in pools of blood made my heart feel as though a knife were lodged in it. The Gillies had been so good to me, and we had become close. I couldn’t stop the weight of sorrow that bore down on me. Who had killed them? Had this happened because of me? How was it that Drew turned up right at that pivotal moment? Shifting my gaze to Drew, I watched as he typed another message on his phone.
“Why are you here?” My question caught him off-guard, and he opened his mouth to speak before promptly closing it again, as if measuring his words with exquisite care. “It’s because of Ben, isn’t it?” Even saying his name made bile rise in the back of my throat. Memories threatened to creep out of the vault I had firmly locked shut, and I pressed my eyes closed, forcing them away. I concentrated on the bus and the heavy roar of the motor revving as we inched up a slight incline, trying desperately to keep the door closed. When Drew spoke, his low, gruff voice brought me back from the brink of insanity.
“He’s running for Senator. He needs to tie up loose ends.”
“And I’m one hell of a loose end,” I whispered, fear making my heart pound a little harder.
“Yeah, Mouse, you are.”
“How did he find me? Only Dillon and Braiden knew where I was.”
Drew rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I’m not an expert on computers, but Sam said Montgomery Security was hacked, even though his system is supposed to be impenetrable. Yours was the only file accessed, and we just assumed it was Ben looking for you. Dillon sent me here right away to bring you in.”
My body was tense, my palms clammy, and the world around me disappeared under the fall of black blotches floating before my eyes. Ben found me. If Montgomery Security couldn’t keep me safe, no one could. Once again, my mind tried to drag me back to that awful night. There were still large holes in my memory; only flashes of the horrors Ben inflicted on me existed there, and they tried to burst into my thoughts like a crumbling damn. Touches, scents, Ben’s guttural moans, my own falling tears, the pain . . . it all tried to drag me away.
“Hey.”
When a large, heavy hand touched my own, I jumped, pulling my hand away from his touch. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me but right at that moment touch wasn’t something I could accept.
“Lola, open your eyes.” I hadn’t even realized I had shut them. Drew’s commanding tone had my eyes snap open, and his concerned face crowded my vision. “Where did you go just now?” I glanced away, ashamed of where my thoughts had turned and my reaction to his touch. “He won’t get you again.” My palms were slick with sweat, and I wiped them on my shorts. “He may have crept past Montgomery Security’s defenses, but no one has ever crept past mine. I can assure you, I have never, ever failed a mission, and I’m not about to now.”
Wow, I think that was the longest sentence I’d heard from him, and probably my favorite so far. Nodding, I quietly agreed that if anyone could keep me safe, it was likely Drew. He was a terrifying figure, so tall and wide. If his physical presence alone didn’t intimidate, his dark, intelligent and intense eyes and low gravelly voice would. It wasn’t just the way he looked and sounded either, it was a manifestation that screamed confidence and danger. Drew was a man of deadly silence, and all those attributes combined led a formidable man. For all that frightening bluster, he didn’t scare me. For some reason, his presence calmed me. His take charge actions and direct commands were something I could obey and appreciate. The world around me felt fragile. I felt fragile. My life was a crumbling brickwork that could fall apart at any moment. Depression, caused by my assault, made me angry, , and since I was unable to channel those negative emotions into something positive, I let it stew inside me, which had created a deep well of desolation. What I needed was someone who could hold me together and keep me in one piece. Drew was a freaking sturdy cement wall. If anyone could prevent me from crumbling, surely it was him. He might seem like a complicated and dangerous man to others, but to me he was my sanity. When it felt like I was bordering on a permanent trip to crazy town, Drew seemed to anchor me to here and now. Having him here with me made me realize just how much I had missed him this last year.
“Okay,” I murmured when his steady gaze remained on mine, and his brow furrowed as if not completely satisfied with his answer. “Okay,” I drawled out, rolling my eyes.
Drew rested back into his seat, still watching me warily, probably thinking I was going to slip back into my dark mind, right around the corner from my frontal lobe, otherwise known as crazy town. A soft snort escaped my lips. I’d told Drew I wasn’t crazy when I was pretty sure a picture of my face sat beside the word in the dictionary.
At that moment, my stomach growled loudly, and I tried to pretend it wasn’t me even though Drew would have clearly heard it. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out the half-eaten chocolate bar and stuffed the delicious, sweet candy into my mouth. I hadn’t eaten since morning, and it had to be late afternoon by now. When I finished, another brightly wrapped candy bar appeared before me. Drew held it out, fighting a smile. Oh, what I would give to see those lips curve into a full out grin. I glanced back at the candy. For some of us there is therapy, for the rest there’s chocolate, I recalled the quote from my quote-a-day calendar, which was back in my room in Chiang Mai, I noted glumly. Dragging my gaze away from the heavenly promise before me, I took in that ruggedly handsome face. His smile would be stunning, I just knew it. His lightly bearded cheeks hinted at dimples, and the small creases around his eyes showed the promise of genuine happiness.
“That sounded pretty serious. You should eat mine, too.”
The heat in my chest and cheeks only flamed my blush onwards. “I’m fine. You need to keep up your energy. You eat it.”
Drew shook his head. “I’m fine, take it.”
He shoved the chocolate bar closer, and I took it, not wanting to argue over something as ridiculous as candy. And I did love chocolate. We had a special relationship; it offered both nutrition and comfort. I savored every mouthful like the heavenly treat it was.
“Chocolate is health food for the soul,” I whispered, as I bit into the chocolate bar.
Drew grunted. I had no idea what the gravely noise meant, but I was too busy eating heaven’s ambrosia to worry about it. Casting him a sideways glance, I did note those stubborn lips tip in a small smile that quickly disappeared. That tenacious trait felt like a challenge. Seeing him let loose a full-on, unobstructed grin was fast becoming my newest obsession.
***
The rain beat down on us like a relentless sheet of misery. The hot, steamy day had led right into a thunderous evening. The temperature had dropped slightly, and the water sure as hell helped wash away the perspiration that gathered on my skin from the humidity. But that was the only good thing I could find about being soaking wet. I cringed every time the thunder cracked like an angry god out for vengeance. I liked storms. I just didn’t like being stuck under the unforgiving skies as they broke apart in a deafening battle.
It was late at night. The bus trip had been several hours of uncomfortable hell. A restless sleep had claimed me for about an hour and then I spent the rest of my time counting white and blue cars, then yellow and red followed by black and silver. I’d counted electricity poles, birds, and even the people on the bus, women first, then men, then grouped them into age groups. I counted until my mind became sluggish and a headache began to thump behind my eyes. We had slipped off the bus at a busy stop a couple of hours from Bangkok. Drew had quickly hailed a tuk-tuk which had rattled and bumped its way deeper into the city until I thought my teeth would break.
We were walking briskly through the backstreets and alleyways; Drew kept an ever-vigilant eye on his surroundings, while I felt completely miserable and mind-numbingly exhausted. Not even the vibrant colors of city life that shined brightly through the sheet of rain could capture my attention. My feet were killing me, my eyes were burning with fatigue, my head pounded, and I hated being wet. A flash of lightning followed by the sharp crack of thunder made me jump. Did I mention I hated being stuck out in a storm?
Drew came to a halt at the end of the narrow alleyway we had slipped down, and he remained still and silent before me. I’m not sure if it was exhaustion or simply the forgotten need for human contact that had me take a small step into Drew’s impressive, large body. Leaning closer, I let my cheek rest against his wet back and sighed. My eyes slipped shut as I felt Drew stiffen for a moment, before his big hand came around to pat me awkwardly on one arm before he glanced over his shoulder.
“Nearly there.”
“Okay,” I murmured, feeling as though I could simply float off to sleep where I stood.
“Come on, Mouse. A few more blocks and you can shower and sleep.”
The thought of a shower and bed filled me with the little burst of energy I needed to step away from the big man and follow him out onto the busy street. It might have been late at night and storming like the end of days, but apparently, Bangkok ran all night, rain, hail, or shine, like an unstoppable machine. Vendors were still open for business; tourists were still bartering with locals for food and souvenirs; bars and restaurants were still thriving; busty women stood practically naked outside strip clubs, trying to entice men into their establishments.
“Hey, big boy, you come in for a good time?” A Thai woman with heavy makeup and sparkling bra with matching panties stepped bravely toward Drew. His sopping wet appearance and me by his side didn’t dissuade her.
Drew didn’t spare her a glance, though, as he brushed past her, reaching down to gently take my arm and guide me down another street. Finally, we stopped again, and this time Drew stood watching for what felt like a long time. His body remained taut, and he stood straight and tall as if he hadn’t spent the last day on the run. Meanwhile, I leaned heavily against the wall by his side, and my eyes slid shut again. His hand grasping mine spurred me into action, and I quickly stood tall, expecting to run again.
“That’s our target, yellow door.” He pointed out the dimly lit door beside a busy restaurant. “If I tell you to run, you turn and run that way.” He pointed to our right. “Got it?”
God, I hoped he didn’t tell me to run. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to. By some small grace, we made it to the door. Drew produced a key from his jacket and quickly opened it, ushering me into a small corridor with a staircase. Drew moved so he was back in front of me, and led me up the stairs to the first floor, where we reached a small alcove with another locked door. The same key opened this door, and Drew cautiously entered.
“Wait here,” he murmured as he moved into the apartment. He wasn’t gone more than a minute before he was back and the lights behind him were switched on. “Come on in.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I stepped into the apartment, stopping just inside the doorway, water dripping to the tile floor beneath my flip-flops. Drew shifted behind me to shut the door, and I just stared. I had never been in a safe house before, and maybe it was a result of too much TV, but my mind had conjured images of a musty old space, with a creaky old bed layered in crusty old sheets. This most certainly wasn’t what I had been expecting. The room was large, clean, and modern with straight lines and furnished sparsely but efficiently. A small living space with a leather sofa sat in front of a large, flat screen TV. The kitchenette had granite countertops, a small microwave, fridge, and stainless steel stovetop. Two doors led off either side of the room, the lights on in both. One was clearly a bedroom with a large queen size bed that I was contemplating collapsing into, wet clothes and all; however, the sheets looked expensive and luxurious. I couldn’t bring myself to mess them up. Walking further into the apartment I noticed the bathroom was equally opulent with a large shower stall and one of those huge, beastly shower heads that I think were referred to as a rain shower head. The wall and floor tiles were white with black granite counter tops and matching, fluffy black towels.
“I feel trapped. The stairway is the only way in or out,” I admitted, suddenly hesitating to go any further while soaking wet.
“We’re safe here, I promise.” Drew was standing in the kitchen and glanced my way, a confused frown on his handsome face. “Are you just going to stand there dripping all night?”
“No?” I said, more a question then an answer.
“There will be fresh towels in the bathroom,” Drew said.
I took a step in that direction, feeling every ounce of exhaustion creep into my body.
“I’ll go get some food and something dry for you to wear.”
My body and mind were at war with itself; my body screamed for reprieve and rest, my mind filled with fear at the idea of being left alone.
“You’re safe, Mouse,” Drew said, as if reading my mind. “I wouldn’t leave you if I thought otherwise. I’ll only be gone ten minutes at most.” He looked me right in the eye.
I nodded and headed toward the bathroom, deciding being warm and dry was at the top of my to-do list. “What if someone knocks?” I asked.
“Nobody can get into the stairwell without a key.”
“Okay,” I whispered as I took another step into the bathroom.
“Where will you get clothes?”
“Souvenir shop, across the road.”
“What about food?”
“Restaurant down stairs.”
“I hate mushrooms.”
“Noted.” He didn’t move, though. I assumed he was awaiting my next question.
“The sooner you go the sooner you’ll be back,” I said, using my hand to wave him off.
He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”
Once the door to the apartment quietly clicked shut, I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Standing in front of the vanity mirror, I shook my head. I looked a mess. My hair hung like a drenched rat around my pale face; dark shadows hung under my eyes; and my body was practically hunched in on itself, as though it were trying to protect me from the world.
Slowly, I peeled off my wet clothes and climbed under the warm shower. The water pounding down on my body was welcome, and I stood under the blast, allowing my muscles to relax. My eyes skimmed over my naked body, and I tried valiantly to ignore the scars carved into my skin. They would always be a reminder of the night Ben had won, the night he broke me. The rigid scars on my chest weren’t thick, but they were raised, and even after using all kinds of moisturizers and natural remedies, they were still an angry pink. The doctors assured me they’d lighten with time. They’d never disappear, though. MINE, the ugly brand of ownership was etched into my skin, a four-letter word that continued to make my soul bleed every time I removed my clothes. It was why I’d washed myself in a shirt and panties for six months, hating the idea of baring my skin.
Looking away from the scars, I focused on bathing and washing my hair. I finished up and turned off the water before stepping onto the fluffy black mat on the floor outside the shower. I dried off, then looked to the pile of wet clothes. Oh crap, the thought of climbing back into those was not appealing.
“Lola?” Drew’s voice from the other side of the door filled me with an immense sense of relief. “I’ve got dry clothes.”
To reach the clothes meant I had to open the door. Last time I had been naked in the presence of a man . . . I shuddered and forced that thought into the box all troubling thoughts were hidden.
“Lola?"
“Okay,” I nervously called out, glancing once again at my reflection.
The towel covered most of my scars but it was a little scant for comfort, particularly when in the presence of Drew King. Pulling the towel even tighter around me, with shaking hands, I unlocked the bathroom door and opened it a crack. Drew was there with a handful of dry clothing. Slipping my arm out the slither of space, I took the clothes and shut the door as fast as I could, breathing a sigh of relief once my back was pressed against it. There was a large shirt with ‘What happens in Bangkok stays in Bangkok’ written across the front of it and a pair of drawstring pants that were way too big, but the drawstring would help. No underwear. I was too tired to care and just happy to have dry clothes.
After dressing, I hung my wet clothes on the towel rack, hoping that by morning my underwear would be dry enough to wear. Staring at the door I took a few tentative steps forward. It was just Drew out there, Mr. McMuscles with the big bear paws and animal grunting noises, one of the very few men I felt safe around. My nerves weren’t necessarily because I was scared, but because of my unusual reaction to him. I liked him. Shit, I really, really liked him, and I cared about what he thought of me.
Running a hand through my tangled knots, I pressed my shoulders back. Nut up or shut up, they say. I pulled the door open and stepped into the living room. Drew was still dripping wet as he stood in the kitchen, filling the space. No, not just filling it, consuming it, reminding me of the time I’d stuffed my fully-grown cat into my Barbie doll house. Too much animal for such a small space.
“Food.” He pointed to said food. “I’m gonna hit the shower.”
I nodded as he passed by me and closed himself behind the bathroom door. I was torn between wanting to eat and wanting to fall into the comfortable looking bed across the room. My growling stomach won out, and I quickly served up food on two plates, giving Drew a larger portion. He was much bigger, but he also hadn’t eaten all day. Sitting in front of the TV, I drew my feet up and began to eat, my brain struggling to process how far my world had changed in just a day.
My stomach rolled with unease, but I forced the thoughts away. I needed to eat, and it was impossible to do on an unsettled stomach. Tomorrow we’d be going back to Claymont, and I hadn’t really had time to process how I felt about that. Excitement and concern warred with each other. There was no doubt I missed the small, quaint town, but it also held some of the vilest memories of my life. Reaching for the remote to the TV, I flicked it on and settled back with my plate of food resting in my lap. The familiar yet mostly unrecognizable language from the actors on the show numbed my brain, and my hands rested at my sides as I lay my head back against the sofa and allowed my eyelids to flutter shut.
Not once since my attack had I slept outside the safe confines of my bedroom, with the door locked. I never allowed myself the luxury of floating into oblivion in a place I was vulnerable and easily accessible, but my eyelids were being tugged closed by a force outside of my control. Just a minute of rest, then I would finish my meal and lock myself safely in the bedroom behind me.