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“Can you elaborate?” I asked, taking her hands in mine.
“I like you. A lot. You’re comfortable.”
“Not usually the adjective I’d go for,” I laughed.
“I can be myself around you. I don’t have to wear a mask. And I’m afraid I’ll have to put one on when you get to know me more. And I’m thinking I’ll be okay with that because I don’t want to let you go just yet.”
“You’d hide pieces of yourself from me?”
“If I had to,” she admitted.
“Don’t do that.” I dropped her hands and worked on untying her triple knotted laces. She was tense but didn’t ask me to stop.
I kissed the inside of her thigh, just above her knee when I got the first boot untied. I didn’t take it off yet, instead I set to work on the other one.
“I wear these boots every day because they’re comfortable,” she started. “They won’t come off. Won’t slip off. They have a great grip on the bottom, see?” She twisted the toe of her boot, showing me how it caught easily on the hardwood floor.
I nodded. “What else?” I prompted, kissing her knee again.
“I can run away easily. I made a mistake.” A silent tear fell down her face. I wiped it away with my thumb and began the slow process of pulling the first boot from her foot.
She sniffed but continued. “I was in stupid stilettos when he followed me. I tried to run—but I couldn’t. I twisted my ankle on that stupid gravel driveway. I’d always been able to run away, but I couldn’t that time. He grabbed me and I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t run with those heels, I tried to take them off, but they had buckles. Stupid buckles. I couldn’t get them off.I couldn’t run.”
I removed the first boot and rubbed her calf and foot, looking up at her. She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, another silent tear dripped down her cheek. “You know what they say, fight-or-flight, right? Well, I couldn’t run. So, I fought. I went mad. I wasn’t going to let him—” she swallowed hard, and I worked hard to keep my face impassive but my blood was boiling. “He was drunk. I had too much to drink too. He’d been coming on to me all night. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. I wanted to leave but Karina was my ride. She wouldn’t go, not even after I told her that he made me uncomfortable. Said I was looking for it. She encouraged him. It was her cousin. Told us both to get rid of the sexual tension between us, like it was a joke to her. I was fucking tense. I didn’t know him, not really. He tried to kiss me. I bit his lip. I was going to walk home. I thought I’d lost him. But he followed me.”
I worked on removing the other boot, slowly sliding it off her foot. She looked down at me and I wiped a rogue tear away from her cheek and I kissed her thigh again. I said nothing. I knew there was more she wanted to say, and I simply waited.
“He almost got what he wanted. But I fought. He was slow, probably seeing double. But I’d managed to push him down. Or he fell. Doesn’t matter. I tried running again. But he got me. He’d always catch up to me. I kicked him with those spiked heels. Trask I—” she sniffed and wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm. “I saw red. I stepped on him and stabbed him with those stupid shoes. Over and over and over until I knew he wouldn’t get up and chase me. Karina found us. And she called the cops. I’d thought she would back me up, even if it was her cousin. I had handprints on my arms from him. He bit my shoulder. But Karina didn’t help. No one did. Said they’d seen us together all night. That we were a couple, said she’d seen us kiss. They left out the part that I bit through his lip to get away. Left out the part where my ankle was swollen and bruised from trying to run. He was another judge’s son. The trial was over before it started. I was never a victim to them. I was simply a rough patch in that poor boy’s life.”
She seethed the last few words, and I kissed her thigh again, working my hands up from her calves to her knees and up her thighs, resting at her hips. I continue to kneel in front of her.
She laughed a little. “So. The boots. I’ll always be able to run.”
“Don’t run from me.” I didn’t know why I said it. I was selfish. She bore her heart out to me and I wanted to know if she’d stay.
“Don’t make me.”
I stood and pulled her up with me wrapping my arms around her. “Eliza, fuck, I’m so sorry—”
“Stop. Don’t. It’s over. I didn’t get to run away, but I managed to walk away in the end. It could have been worse. Just—don’t look at me differently. Please.”
I kissed her. I kissed her long and hard. She tasted like peppermint toothpaste and salty tears and I wanted more of her. I kissed her throat and down her collarbone. I kissed her chest, over the shirt, down her sternum, and through the valley of her breasts. I knelt, once again, in front of her. She had her hands tangled in my hair in such an oddly familiar way that I wanted to melt into her. I worked at the buttons on her jeans and slowly pulled them from her body. It was hard to ignore the ache in my cock as the jeans slid over her little black cotton panties.
I unfolded the pair of joggers I’d gotten for her and helped her step into them, pulling them slowly up her body. I stood again, wrapping her in my arms, and guided her to my bed. I sat down, back against the headboard and pulled her into my lap. She sat, her back to my chest, between my legs. She gripped my hand as if her life depended on it while my other hand ran lazy circles over her scalp and through her hair.
“Don’t run from me,” I whispered again, because, deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she would.
17
ELIZA
Iwoke up with a heavy weight draped across my stomach. I stared at the ceiling. It was a nice ceiling, but not one I recognized. It was always like this when I woke up, and I ran through a list in my head. I wasn’t in Rosalie’s little studio. I’d crashed at Karina’s a few times, but not since the arrest. I slept in my car for a time or two. Sometimes I’d go to Sage’s, but she took care of an old man and it felt like I was intruding on her caregiving duties.
A warm breath blew across my shoulder. I slowly let my head fall to the side and the sleeping face of Trask greeted me. And the previous night came flooding in and I had to work on steadying my furiously beating heart.
He looked so peaceful, his normally serious features were soft. I rolled over to face him. His arm, which had been resting over my stomach, reached behind my back and pulled me closer. I couldn’t help but inhale his scent as I nuzzled into his chest. I snuck my hand up and ran it through his hair and I was rewarded by a long groan.
“Good morning,” he said into my hair.
