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My hands tremble as I reach into the pocket of my jacket and grab my cell phone. I need to talk to somebody. I can’t keep this to myself. It’ll shatter me—and I don’t know if I’d be able to put myself back together.
Strange, but my thoughts immediately turn to Taj. The impulse to call him is a habit more than anything else. You don’t forget two years of essentially making somebody your world in the blink of an eye. We might’ve ended badly, but it wasn’t always like that. There was a time I really loved him and believed he loved me. When I gave my heart fully to him. Why wouldn’t I reflexively search out his number in my contacts?
But no. I can’t call him. I broke up with him only a few minutes before my stalker found me. I have to wonder whether Taj would even answer my call, considering the way I left him back at the coffee shop.
And if he did? What then? My throat threatens to close when I so much as imagine telling him what just happened. Having to go through everything, step by step. I don’t have a single doubt Taj would want me to recount every filthy, embarrassing detail, either. Not to shame me and not to get off on it—he wouldn’t be that cruel. I can’t believe he would punish me for hurting him by making me relive every detail.
He’d do it because he still believes I’m his. I’ll be the first to admit he’s confused me lately with the way he’s been so hot and cold with no warning, but I know certain things are true. He’s not a sadist.
He is, however, possessive. He’d pull one of those big, chest-puffing alpha male moves and promise to kill whoever abused his woman. He’d expect me to melt against him and bury my head in his shoulder, and whimper for him to help me. He would see this as his opportunity to sweep in and make everything okay again. He might even look at the timing of the situation as proof that I shouldn’t have dumped him. That I need him. After all, look what happened only minutes after we were apart.
Even now, consumed by fear and shame, the idea of him smothering me in an attempt to get us back together somehow disgusts me more. That’s saying something since I want to die from the disgust I feel toward myself.
The disgust and the shame. I couldn’t bring myself to admit what happened. I couldn’t bear admitting what it did to me. Not to Taj, who should be the one person I’d pour my heart out to. I wouldn’t want to tell him even if we didn’t just break up.
Instead, I call the only other person I can think of. Somebody I hardly know, but now strikes me as the only one who’d understand, who wouldn’t judge me or blame me for letting this happen.
Christian’s voice soothes me the moment I hear it, and I know I made the right choice. “Beautiful, how did you know I was thinking about you?”
“I need you.” The second the words tumble from my abused lips, I know it’s the truth. I do need him. Desperately.
Not the way he assumes, though. Not right now.
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“I don’t mean it that way.” My breath hitches before I can help myself. “Something… bad happened…”
And his demeanor changes. “What happened? Where are you?” he growls.
“I’m at home. Alone. He found me. On the street.”
“Who did?”
“The guy who’s been stalking me.” I don’t realize until a tear hits my shirt that I’m crying. “I don’t want to be alone right now. Can you come over?”
When he hesitates, I know I’ve made the wrong move. He’s going to think I’m too needy. “It’s okay,” I murmur. “You don’t have to if you’re busy. I can’t expect you to drop everything.”
“No, you aren’t asking too much.” Though he hesitates again—and when he speaks, he does it slowly. Like he’s choosing his words carefully. “You caught me at an inopportune time, is all. I wish I could be with you right now. You have no idea how much.”
“I really do understand.” I can’t help but slump against the counter. Now that the worst of the panic is over, I’m more exhausted than I can remember being. “I’m dead beat from head to toe.”
“It’s the effect of lessening adrenaline.” The way he sounds, he knows what he’s talking about. “Now that you’re no longer in fight-or-flight mode, now that you know you’re safe, your overwrought system is adjusting. What happened, anyway?”
A noise from outside steals my breath away before I can respond. “Siân?” Christian demands in a tight voice. “What’s wrong?”
“I heard something.” I can barely even get out a whisper with my throat tightening and my heart racing. “Outside.”
