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“Go, let your girl take care of you. I’ll see you Thursday.”
We hang up, and I drop my phone to the desk. Glancing at my watch, I notice it’s after seven. Today’s been a long day, and I’m tired. I stretch my arms over my head to try to release some of the tension in my shoulders. Closing my eyes, last night comes to mind. My jaw hardens and my blood boils in my veins. I want to be pissed at her, I am pissed at her, but some niggle in the back of my head tells me something’s not right. I thought last night I would find out what is was, but when I came back from my shower, she was gone. Poof. Left me without a word, after seducing me with her body. I now have a fist-sized hole in my wall that I have to patch up when I get home.
I barely held onto the urge to follow her home and demand she tell me what was wrong with her earlier that night, but knew my anger at her leaving would probably have me being a dick. I’m not normally someone that loses their temper, but this woman pushes every button I have. Instead, I went to bed, my body flushed from my anger, and attempted to sleep. It was a fruitless effort, so I got up a couple hours later and went for a two mile, middle-of-the-night jog. I finally fell into bed, exhausted, and slept a restless sleep, images of the pained look on Abby’s face keeping me from falling into a deep slumber.
I stretch my legs out in front of me, feeling my muscles aching for rest. All day long, she’s the only thing I’ve thought of.
My eyes land on a contract on my desk that I still need to sign. It’s for a company that sells coolers that freeze the item placed inside within seconds. The company is struggling financially, and came to me for help. I’m the financial guru that companies come to when they want another company to invest in their product. If I like what I see, and we can come to an agreement, I buy into the company, set them up financially, and take my cut.
According to my lawyer, the contract before me is solid, it just needs my signature, but I always like to go over them myself a few more times before I invest hundreds of thousands of dollars. I was supposed to do that today, but a certain hard-headed blonde has taken over my thoughts recently. I’ve known the woman for four days, but she’s been in my head like I’ve known her my whole life. I can’t fucking shake her.
Running my hands down my face, I decide to call it a night. I’m not in the right frame of mind to read legal documents. I shut down my laptop, get up, and grab my suit jacket off the back of the chair, slipping my phone in my pocket as I walk to the door. I don’t bother with shutting off the lights as I walk throu
gh the office building. The cleaning crew will take care of it.
The lights on my truck flash when I unlock my door. Throwing my jacket on the passenger seat, I climb behind the wheel, and just sit there. Indecision has my hands gripping the steering wheel. I’m not sure why, but I’ve got an uncontrollable urge to go see Abby. I shouldn’t. I should just go home and forget all about the damn woman, but something’s plaguing me. Some unknown force demands I go see her one more time before I write her off. And that’s my plan. She’s too complicated to have something real with. She obviously has a thing for having sex by the way she practically clawed her way up my body last night. I certainly wasn’t complaining; the girl can fuck like a dream, but there’s something about her that throws me for a loop. She has issues, and that’s one thing I don’t need in my life right now. I don’t have time to deal with them, nor do I want to. I don’t know this girl enough to take on whatever her problems are.
Throwing my car in drive, I head out and make the thirty-minute drive towards Abby’s place. I’ll talk with her. And I will have my questions answered, because now it’s more of a need rather than a want to know what her problem is. Maybe have one last fuck session with her—hey, I’m a guy—and leave.
I tell myself this over and over as I trek up the stairs to her apartment. My heart beats heavily in my chest at the prospect of seeing her again, while dread and sorrow form in my stomach at knowing it’ll be the last time. I stop in front of her door for several minutes, working up the courage to lift my hand to knock. I don’t understand why I’m having such a hard time getting this over with. The woman means nothing to me, except a hot fuck.
With a low growl of frustration, I push my troubled thoughts aside and knock. And then wait. After several seconds of silence on her side of the door, I knock again. I noted her car in the parking lot, so she has to be here, right? I knock once more, this time a bit louder—maybe she’s in her bedroom and it’s hard to hear from there—and receive nothing in return.
Giving up, I turn on my heel with irritation at another failed attempt to talk with her, when I hear something. I spin back around and step closer to the door. The noise comes again. It almost sounds like a baby crying. I lean my head closer.
“Abby?” I call through the wood. A second later, I hear the noise again, but louder. It’s not a baby crying, but sounds like a loud whimper.
Panic starts to set in, and I grab the handle, expecting to have to kick the door in, but am surprised when the knob twists. I push open the door and am met with darkness. I strain my ears, listening for the whimpers again, not sure who or what I’ll find. A loud wail comes from the dark hallway, and I sprint in that direction. It dies down to cries, and I follow it to the master bathroom. Sweat beads on my forehead when I quickly push open the door. My eyes adjust to the light and zero in on the naked woman that’s huddled in the tub, her back to the wall, with water spraying down on her. I run over and squat down beside the tub.
“Abby?” I ask, trying to gently draw her attention to me being in her bathroom. I do a quick scan of the parts of her body I can see, and notice no physical injuries.
When she lifts her head, I suck in a sharp breath at the sight of her. Her lips are blue, her eyes are glassy, and her face is as white as a ghost. Looking more closely at her, I see her whole body is pale and covered with goose bumps.
“What in the hell have you done?” I demand, the question coming out harsher than I’d intended. She doesn’t respond, just looks at me with dull eyes that are filled with unbearable pain. She’s shaking so bad, her teeth are chattering.
I quickly turn off the spray and notice the water is icy cold. Reaching out my hand, I grab the towel that’s on the rack behind me, before stepping forward and placing it over her shoulders. Fear implants itself inside me at the feel of her deathly cold skin. She still hasn’t said anything, or attempted to move.
When I bend down to pick her up, she gives off a pitiful cry, the sound coming off as broken, like she’s cried for hours and is losing her voice. My heart splinters in my chest at the sound.
“I’m so sorry, baby, but I need to get you out of the shower and warm you up.” I hate that I have to cause her more pain, but I need to bring her body temperature up.
Without waiting for permission, I continue to lift her. She whimpers and gives soft cries as I stand, breaking my fucking heart. I move as slow and carefully as possible to the bedroom, trying not to jostle her too much. She’s so cold, it’s seeping through my clothes and sending shivers down my own body.
I manage to get the comforter and sheet pulled away and lay her down, gently. I wrap the covers around her to her chin and move out into the hallway, where I saw a small door. Grabbing two more thick blankets from the linen closet, I carry them to the bedroom. Except for her heavy shivers, she still hasn’t moved. I place both blankets on top of her and start stripping off my clothes. Once I’m naked, I pull the covers back and crawl into bed with her. Rolling her to her side, I snuggle my chest against her back, wrap my arms and legs around her cold ones, and pull her tight against me. Her ice-cold flesh brings chill bumps to the surface of my skin. I bury my face in her neck, breathing warm air against her.
I lay with her cocooned in my arms for several minutes. Each whimper she makes, causes my chest to hurt right along with her. She’s as stiff as a board, except her fingers and toes. I can feel her wiggle the digits repeatedly over and over again, likes she’s fidgety, but is afraid of moving.
After another ten minutes, the shivers lessen and her teeth are no longer chattering. Her soft cries can still be heard, but at least she’s warming up. She starts moving her legs restlessly against mine, her hands open and close against my forearms.
“Blue,” Abby croaks out. “Please, make it stop.”
“What, Abby?” I murmur, my stomach clenching. “Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me how to stop it.”
She pushes my arms away and turns around to face me. My arms go back around her, bringing her naked chest to mine. I’m relieved to see some of the color has come back to her cheeks, and her lips are no longer blue. Her skin is also no longer freezing to the touch. But her eyes, they still carry a world of pain.
Her leg lifts over my hip, and I’m surprised when she grinds herself down on my thigh. What surprises me more is the wetness that she leaves behind. There is no way she could be turned on right now. Not with how I found her, and the obvious pain she’s still in.
I gaze down into her eyes and see desperation in their depths. “Fuck me. Please, just fuck me, and make the pain go away.”
