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“Hmm?”
He points to a spot, and I glance down. I’m alarmed at first, but then my hand aches. “Right. I forgot about that.” Holding up my hand, I show him. “Thought I could try to open the trunk with the emergency latch, but I think they sharpened the metal to discourage that kind of heroics. Just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”
Anderson takes a deeper breath now. I wonder how long it’s been since he took his last one. “Would you like to stay in Manhattan? I’ll book us a suite, and we can stay as long as you like.”
“I’d like to go home.”
“Then I’ll take you there.” He puts his arm around me and guides me to his car. I’m glad for how comfortable it is, because it makes it easy to fall asleep. When I wake up, we’re already at my place. “June, I don’t know where you’re at in your mind, but do you want me to walk you up?”
Slowly, I nod, and a faint smile takes his lips.
The elevator ride up is silent. The last twenty-four hours have felt like a year, and I don’t have much conversation in me. Neither does Anderson, it seems. Not that we should talk about what happened in an unsecure location.
When we get to my door, he asks, “If you want to be alone, I’ll go. If you want me to stay, I’ll stay. It’s up to you.”
“Would you sleep better in your own bed?”
“I’ll sleep best knowing you’re alright.”
“Then, if you don’t mind, would you stay with me?”
His shoulders slump a little at that. “I would be happy to.”
We go in, and it’s as if nothing happened. Strange. My place is a little messy, but I’m too weary to give a shit about Anderson seeing my mess. Though, it’s nicer to think about that than it is to think about what just happened to me. What’s a little embarrassment compared to being kidnapped for a day?
My head feels like mush and cotton candy, and I can’t tell if I’m on the verge of breaking down or if I’m simply exhausted. But when I look at Anderson, I feel better and worse. Better because he’s nice to look at, but worse because he looks so fucking worried right now. I mumble, “What is it?”
“Don’t take this for bullying, okay?”
I laugh once and it sounds strange to my ears. Almost mechanical or something. “Sure.”
“You look like shit right now, June.”
“Gee, thanks.”
But he comes close and studies my face. “Are you sure they didn’t hurt you?”
I nod, and the bouncing makes me want to vomit, but I hold it back. “Other than the initial struggle?—"
He growls. Like an animal.
“What was that?”
“Please go on.”
Oh-kay. “Other than how it started, no one really hurt me.”
“Did they …” His lips go tight. “Did they assault you? Sexually?”
“No! Nothing even close to that happened.”
“You can tell me. It’s okay.”
Oh, this poor man. “Anderson, I swear, nothing like that happened. My clothes all stayed in place. No one even said creepy things like that. This was business to them. That’s all.”
Once he believes me, it’s like all the air went out of him. His face isn’t tight from anxiety anymore, so when he goes slack, he looks like he’s aged a decade in the last day. “It’s hard not to let your mind go wild when you’re worried about someone you care about.”
It feels good to smile at that. “I’m not sure if I can eat, but?—"
