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tupid event had been a bore and ended up costing him the only thing he really cared about.
His little butterfly was still gone and he was losing his grip on everything else.
Ethan swiped his hand down over his face in exhaustion. He couldn’t eat; he couldn’t sleep. His business holdings were being neglected. How could she possibly evade him for so long? Didn’t she realize how much she needed him? She couldn’t even dress herself properly without his help. Yet she was smarter than he realized. This game had shown him how resourceful she could be. She’d figured out some tricks of how to hide in plain sight. He couldn’t even find her with his careful system searches. There were no obvious patterns in what towns she chose. She didn’t use her name but that was a logical tactic. She changed her appearance every time she moved. He spread the pictures of her in her various disguises across his desk. Sometimes red hair, usually shades of brown. Never blonde. He picked up one of the pictures and studied her face. So ethereal. So defiant. He would have to teach her to submit to him again. The thought made him excited, but the excitement quickly deflated and he was left with a gnawing ache.
“Soon, Olivia, soon you will come home and you will fill this terrible emptiness you caused. We will be together forever and you’ll never leave me. I’ll make sure you never have the chance to fly away again.”
***
Olivia felt like she was playing house in Paul’s condo. She and Paul tiptoed around each other with extreme politeness. The romance seemed to be put on hold now that she was his houseguest. Once he dumped her bag on her bed upstairs, he hadn’t touched her since. Maybe he felt nervous about having her underfoot and disrupting his bachelor home. She definitely felt nervous about being there, and not because of Ethan. She wanted to please Paul yet she needed to remain self-sufficient. He was so determined to take care of her even though she wasn’t helpless. What did he expect of her? Her room was only a few steps away from his. How could she live so close to the man when she couldn’t get her mind off him? She wanted more from him but she didn’t know what exactly that more was. She wanted to be as close as possible without losing her freedom and giving him too much of herself. He seemed just as confused by their new situation – thus the tiptoeing.
Regardless of how awkward they felt, they still needed to eat so Olivia did the cooking. That evening she put together a tasty chicken parmesan and side salad while Paul worked in his office. She liked to cook. Her mom was a chef with her own restaurant and she passed on all her secrets to her and Marissa. Cooking was the one thing she used as therapy when dancing wasn’t available, or consuming her every hour.
“Something smells amazing out here. I love having you for a roommate,” Paul said as Olivia pulled the hot dish from the oven. “Tell me how I can help.” He didn’t come close, but stood in the doorway watching.
She threw a look over her shoulder and saw his intense look. “You only want me for my cooking? Huh.”
She expected Paul to tease her or grab her and kiss her as he had in the past but his look was serious. She couldn’t decipher his expression but even she couldn’t ignore the heat in his gaze. She swallowed and forced her thoughts to more practical matters before he acted on whatever it was he was thinking. “You could grab a plate and something to drink.”
He nodded and the spell was broken – for the moment. “Want to watch a movie while we eat?” he suggested as he pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and poured two glasses.
She accepted the glass of wine he offered. “Sounds like a wonderful evening to me.” A movie would keep her mind off other things.
They settled on the couch. At first, she was on one end with Paul at the other. He flipped through the channels until he found one playing a movie marathon from the nineties. They ate their fill then Paul reached for her plate and set it aside. She eyed him warily as he slowly and carefully drew her into his arms.
“This okay?” he asked.
Olivia sighed. “Yes. I felt like you were avoiding me. I like it when you touch me.”
“I didn’t want you to think I was forcing myself on you. I was giving you time to adjust to the situation.” His fingers traced lightly down her cheek, making her sigh again as she snuggled against him.
“I appreciate the sentiment but we don’t have an abundance of time.” They needed more. She deserved to be happy. She didn’t want to lose a second before Ethan caught up. She shivered at the thought. She couldn’t allow herself to forget that she wasn’t safe no matter how secure she felt. Safety was an illusion.
Paul adjusted so he could better see her face. “Ten tell me why you ran away, why you’re still running.”
She knew the questions were always there. She wanted to ignore them but her situation hung between them constantly. “Paul, please don’t do this. You know I’m not going to tell you anything and why.”
“I can help you,” he answered and she could hear his frustration.
“No one can. Please don’t ruin a perfect evening.” She tried to pull away but he kept her close and gently turned her face so she was looking at him.
“I’m not asking names.” She eyed him doubtfully. He pressed her for information every day.
“And I’m not gathering intel as a cop.”
“You’re not.”
Paul shook his head. “Of course I want to know the criminal’s name, but for now I’ll settle for less. I just want to know what happened to you. You need to confide in someone or that crap will build up on the inside and make you crazy.” He pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Come on, Liv, tell me. Give me something.”
“Those memories need to stay buried,” she answered blandly.
“If they stay buried, they will continue to hurt you,” Paul retorted.
Olivia lifted her chin and glared at him even though she knew he was right. He was only trying to help. Maybe if he had a sample then he would understand the gravity of her situation. “All right, you want stories, here’s a story. This happened shortly after my injury,” she noticed his eyes flicker with interest at the mention of her accident. He probably would demand those details next. “I was in a lot of discomfort because I wasn’t allowed proper medical attention. He didn’t want anyone touching me, so it was difficult for me to sit through a long meal. I didn’t have much appetite that night either so I was picking at my food. I didn’t really like it. The chicken had too much tarragon for my preference. This made Eth – him – mad because it was his favorite dish and apparently I wasn’t giving it proper reverence. Even though I tried to eat, he wasn’t satisfied. He calmly drained his wine then he threw the glass at the table in front of me.” She fingered the scar near her eye. “Several pieces of glass hit me in the face.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry –“
Olivia held up her hand to forestall his sympathy. “There’s more. It gets much worse. Before I could say anything he gathered the plates, strode over to the balcony and threw them. We were on the fortieth floor and you know how populated LA is. I was so afraid he hurt someone. If a shattered glass cut me, imagine what several China plates from the fortieth floor would do to a person on the ground. It could bust a windshield or kill someone. I never heard if anything bad happened because I was stuck in the apartment.
