Yes. We have it that bad for each other.
I use my time alone to finish off my breakfast, and when I’m done, I throw the duvet from me and ease out of the bed. I’m still feeling sore in my nether regions, but better than I did last night. I frown, remembering the tablets Chris gave me. My mind became fuzzy after I got into the bath, which leads me to believe that whatever they were pack some punch. I should be mad at him for giving me something as strong as that, but I also know his intentions were honourable.
Gingerly, I grab the tray, my muscles aching but from lack of use more than anything. I crack my neck, rounding my shoulders as I carry the tray out of my bedroom and into the living room/kitchen area. Chris is hunched over the island, his eyes dark and dangerous, his posture rigid. He’s unaware of me at first, his hand resting on his temples, rubbing them in thought. I know that look. He’s planning something. And I have a feeling that plan somehow involves me.
“Penny for them?” I ask, nearing the sink. I place the contents beside it and turn to face him. Chris’s posture turns from rigid to soft within a nanosecond of seeing my smile. He pushes himself up from the island, his white t-shirt high enough for me to glance a peek at just one of the many tattoos he’s had designed over the years. The biggest one is my name, which he proudly wears across his chest in Algerian font. He has a multitude of scars on his torso, most of them covered by tattoos. When he had my name done, he said it was a symbol of covering something bad with something good. I will forever be etched into his skin till the day he dies.
He snakes his arms around me until they rest on my hips, then he pulls me close, inhaling before he lands a soft kiss on my lips. Upon exhale, I smell the mixture of coffee and marijuana on his breath.
“Just thinking about work. That’s all.”
I pull my head back to gaze at his expression, noting the element of confusion on his face when I do. “You mean you’re figuring out ways to shoot people first then ask questions later. I know some arseholes hurt me, Chris, but please promise me you won’t go in all guns blazing until you know all the facts. Maybe whoever did this thought you would react violently and is counting on you screwing up. Just… be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”
Chris stares at me a long time, his eyes holding me captive the whole time. Then he nods, the corners of his lip curving. “Cross my heart and hope to die, baby.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Over the next few days, I fully heal physically, but mentally I am still replaying my attack over and over again in my head, trying my hardest to remember things, but also not wanting to. My head is fucked. And it doesn’t help that my body is raging war against my head. My body desperately wants Chris, but my head has been winning so far.
I fucking hate my head.
It doesn’t help matters that Chris is feeling the pinch too. He’s been crabby and distant. I understand that a major part of it is because of my ordeal, but I also know he’s missing me. Missing us. I think a part of me realises that I won’t feel good about anything until I know who it was that attacked me. I’m starting to think Chris feels that way too.
“I noticed you had company this morning.”
Typical of Charlie. No good morning or hello or how are you. Straight to the point.
Swivelling in my chair, I face him. He’s wearing a blue button-down shirt, which is tucked neatly into his jeans. Jeans which rest ever so perfectly on his hips. He has dark rims around his eyes like he hasn’t slept, but that doesn’t stop the storm in his golden irises from holding me captive.
“Chris says he’s going to drop me off and pick me up from now on. You know… after what happened and all.”
Charlie glances away a moment, nodding his head. “Yeah, erm… how are you feeling after that?”
Finally, a question. A question that shows me he does somewhat care. “I’m feeling a lot better now, thanks. And thank you for letting me have that time off. I didn’t think I needed it, but I definitely did.”
Charlie fixes his eyes on me, a sharper nod this time. “Tell him that if there’s a time he can’t make it for some reason, I will make sure you’re safely brought to the shop and returned home.”
And just like that, the steely walls around this man lower. Only slightly, but enough to let me see that he really does have a heart under that unwavering persona of his.
I bite my lip, my heart skipping a beat when his eyes land on my mouth. “Thank you.”
Clearing his throat, his posture straightens. “As long as you’re okay.”
And just like that, he disappears into his back office, leaving me feeling slightly stupefied and breathless. The encounter, although brief, fills me with a coating of warm sunshine. To some, it may not seem like anything special, but to me, it meant a lot.
A ping of the bell chimes, alerting me to a customer. No time to be dwelling on the tiny bit of concern my boss just awarded me. I swivel back in my seat, my smile ready for whoever is at the door. But when I see who it is, all the colour drains from my face, my heart accelerating with each step he takes inside the shop.
Frosty.
I sit rigid in my chair, mouth dry, my eyes following him as he absentmindedly takes in his surroundings. He doesn’t give a shit about the shop. It’s all for show.
With hair as white as a snowman and his moustache as black as a panther, his eyes dart around the shop until they eventually land on me. He brandishes a smile, but in no way is it meant to be friendly. Still, he’s playing the part, and his presence alone sends shivers up my spine. No doubt he senses this and is enjoying every moment of my discomfort.
Sick fuck.
“Good morning,” he practically sings, his hand clasped on a Fedora style hat he swings obliviously to and fro.
“Good morning,” I say back, trying not to let my voice break too much. “How can I help you today?”
His icy blue eyes land on mine. “Brianna… isn’t it?” With a swallow, I nod my head. He steps forward, and my body instantly cringes at his close proximity. Will I have enough time to call Charlie before this arsehole causes some real damage?
“Relax, I’m not here to hurt you.”
Okay, cool. I’m glad we got that out of the way.
For some reason, his words don’t make me feel any better.
“On the contrary, in fact.” His eyes sweep over my body, noting my discomfort. When he places his hat on the counter, he sighs. “I heard about what happened to you last week.” My posture picks up, my heart rate accelerating even more. Frosty pulls his hand up in response, a placating gesture. “I’m not here to cause you alarm. I just want you to tell your boyfriend to stop sniffing around my men, causing no end of trouble. None of them had anything to do with your attack, so it needs to fucking stop.”
Despite the amount of fear trying to strangle me, I swallow it down, my chin held high. “And we’re supposed to take your word at face value?”
A small snarl crosses his lips. Only slight, but enough to make me wish I could take back what I just said. Frosty inhales a deep breath, his hands resting on the counter. He studies me a moment before responding. “When I was a young lad, my older sister was gang raped whilst on a night out with her friends. I had to listen to her night after night, howling to the sky, pain tearing away at her insides. I was too young to do anything back then, but when I was old enough, I made sure those men were never able to rape again.”