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“Because you don’t like confrontations, especially with people who matter. I don’t like them either. Somebody always says something they’re going to regret. In this case, it’s probably all of us, except you. You have nothing to regret. But trust me, you’re not the only one shaking, love.”
Tom’s body trembled too, so she squeezed tighter. They stood in the middle of the road, holding each other. After a long time, Wiz loosened her grip. Tom immediately let her go but held her hand. They strode up the hill to her driveway, then down through the gates and into her house. Wiz went straight to the kitchen. “Something to drink?”
“Yes.” He smiled sadly. “I need it after that. I’ll get mine; you get yours.” He crossed to the side table in the dining room, which he’d stocked with alcohol and mixers, and poured a small glass of scotch.
Wiz poured glasses of water for both of them and her favorite comfort drink, a bottle of Yoo-hoo. She stopped before she reached the living area.
Tom sprawled on the sofa. He’d started the fire and he stared into the flames. When the designer had picked out the furniture, Wiz had initially objected because it was all so huge; she’d feel lost in it. The designer wanted to match the scale of the room and reminded her that not everybody was tiny. Wiz was glad she’d given in. Tom looked comfortable; the sofa was perfect for a man of his size. He turned to look at her with a smile. “What are you thinking about?”
“That you fit my furniture better than I do.” Someday, she’d think before she spoke.
He laughed and looked around the room. “I suppose that’s true. Come here; we’ll fit it even better together.” He raised the footrest and held up his arm. She put their drinks on the coffee table and snuggled under his arm, resting her head on his chest. He wrapped his long arm around her loosely, and she relaxed. “That’s better.”
“Yes, it is.” Wiz reveled in the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace. She might not have earned special treatment, but she couldn’t bear to reject Tom’s love either. They sat there, wrapped together, and watched the flames of the fire. Before too long, Wiz realized that Tom had fallen asleep. Staying with Tom was a much better idea than getting up and working. She nestled closer and closed her eyes.
Wiz woke. A man’s arms wrapped around her body, and she moved through the air. Someone was carrying her, someone large and strong—she had to escape! Without opening her eyes, she jabbed her elbow to crush the man’s throat. But she’d misjudged, striking muscle.
“Uh!” Before she could strike again, she dropped, landing gently on the floor, and the arms slid away. She bounded to her feet, ran for a wall, and spun to face the threat, dropping into a defensive stance.
“Wiz, it’s me. I’m sorry. Wiz, wake up. It’s okay.”
A large man stood six feet away, his hands raised high while backing away. No threat, unless he had a gun. She grasped the concealed pistol at the small of her back and looked at his face. Tom. Oh, no. She’d attacked Tom. She dropped her hands, her heart dropping with them, and collapsed against the wall. “Tom. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
Tom stopped and lowered his hands. “Sure. I’ll have a bruise on my chest, but I don’t think you broke anything.” He rubbed the right side of his chest, just below his collarbone.
She could have broken his collarbone or worse, crushed his throat. She closed her eyes but was too stressed to leave them shut. “I’m so sorry. I...” Marie was right. She was too dangerous to be around a real family.
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have tried to carry you.” He smiled slightly and shook his head. “I didn’t think. You were sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake you, so I thought I’d just carry you upstairs and put you to bed. It really was stupid of me.”
“Tom. I’m sorry.” She blinked back tears. She’d been fooling herself. She was too dangerous, too hazardous, and putting those she loved at risk.
“Really, it’s okay.” He held out his hands. “This was entirely my fault. Of course you’d panic if I carried you. We’ve talked about this very thing, and I should have known better. Don’t you dare feel bad about this.”
She couldn’t take his hands. She didn’t deserve his love. She dropped to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees, and cried. She was too messed up.
Footsteps caused her eyes to open. Tom, his body wavering through her tears, walked to her and crouched in front of her. He stretched out his arms but didn’t touch her. She could have killed him and he offered to hold her. She didn’t deserve his love, but she longed for him. Despite her determination, she reached for him. His arms closed around her gently, and she buried her head into his shoulder, soaking his shirt.
“It’s okay, love. Really.” He rocked her.
“No, it’s not. It’s not okay at all,” she wailed.
“Yes, it is. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t have to be sorry for being nice!”
“Love...” He sighed. “I want to sit, with you on my lap. Is that okay?” She nodded. If she spoke, she didn’t know what would come out of her mouth. Bad enough tears were rolling down her cheeks. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall and shifted her onto his lap. “Really, it’s okay. I was stupid. And I think you must have realized somewhere that it was me because you didn’t hit as hard as you can.”
She shook her head violently. “No, no, no, all I thought was that somebody had captured me, and I had to get away.”
He pulled her tighter, resting his cheek against her head. “That may be all you thought, but I really believe you knew it was me at some instinctive level. I’m absolutely certain you could have hit me harder. If you’d really gone after me, I’d have a broken collarbone or throat. And even if I did, you’re still worth it, love.”
“No, I’m not. I’m too dangerous. Even a year from now, I could attack you in my sleep or something!”
“Love, you won’t.” He rocked her again. “A year from now, you’ll be so used to me being around that even if you have a flashback nightmare, you’ll know it’s me. And I’ll have learned to move away, rather than moving closer. We’re both going to learn new behaviors, rather than relying on instinct and habit.”
“Why would you bother sticking around for another day, let alone a year? I’m too broken.”
He dropped his arms but slid his hands up to cup her face, gazing into her eyes. “Because I love you. And someday soon, I hope you’ll believe me.”
