looked around for something that would do, finding only a lidded bucket along the wall of the open supply closet next to them. Dragging her up and back into his arms, he supported her through the door way and over to the bucket. Carefully lowering her down, he knelt in front of her, far too close, but necessary at the moment.
“Liz, stay with me. I need you to breath, okay?” Imitating the type of deep breaths he wanted her to take, she began to follow suit as he cradled her pale, delicate, lovely face in the palm of his hand. “Good, good.” After a few minutes she seemed to come around. Now in possession of at least some of her former faculties, she stared at him. Without warning, she reached out and pulled him into a hug. It was so unexpected that he nearly cried out.
“Thank you, Barrow.” She whispered into his neck before releasing him as quickly as she had pulled him in. He staggered in his crouched position, still reeling from the smell of her hair and the warmth of her breath on his neck. Shaking his head a little, he smiled at her and she smiled back.
“Matthew. My first name is Matthew.” Her smile widened and suddenly their proximity was far beyond just being an issue. He had held his attraction at bay when she had been distressed, but seeing her almost completely righted again was allowing all sorts of sensations to pop up, most notably the knot in his gut and the fire in his veins. Deciding that he couldn’t stay crouched in front of her like that, he stood up and took a step back, into the center of the small towel closet. “Ready for another question?” he asked gently. When she nodded, he asked, “Why weren’t you here this morning? You didn’t meet me until almost eight thirty, so you could have taught your class.”
She nodded again and, as her eyes fell to the floor, she began, “Well, I was planning to, but last night I got caught up rereading the reports again and it was well after two am before I realized it. So, I called Bruce, he’s the night manager here, and asked him to change the board. I figured Pam and Carl could handle the class without me. He said he’d call them for me in the morning and that was that. I went to bed. I didn’t think to call up here this morning...” Her voice cracked and when her head lifted to face him again, a fresh batch of tears hovered behind her eyes. “They are dead because of me...he came here looking for me and now they are dead...it’s all my fault...” To her credit, she didn’t break down and cry, just stared at him with those heavy, stormy eyes.
“Listen to me, it’s not your fault. Those people are dead because some asshole with too much crazy in him decided that they should be. It’s his fault, not yours.”
Chapter 11
He was right. That man did this. That horrible man had taken yet another of her pleasures and destroyed it. First her family, then her home, now her meager social life, after all, the gym was the only thing outside of work she actually enjoyed. The anger that these truths produced gave her her strength back. Piecing her calm back together, she stood up. Barrow, Matthew, was standing just a few feet from her in the dimly lit closet and for a split second she wanted to hug him again. The first one had been involuntary, a remnant of her childhood, ‘the need for physical contact when experiencing extreme emotional turmoil’, at least that was the way it was described in her psychology books. What she wanted now was far less impulsive. She wanted to thank him, not for simply being there, but for saving her from the pit of hopelessness that seeing Pam and Carl had opened up in her heart. He had brought her back, saved her from the abyss. In that one act, she had conceeded to the idea of being friends, truly friends, with him despite his sex...and her attraction. Trust, and reliance, spread through her like sunshine on a clear day. She stood for a moment trying to decide if she had it in her, what
“Liz, stay with me. I need you to breath, okay?” Imitating the type of deep breaths he wanted her to take, she began to follow suit as he cradled her pale, delicate, lovely face in the palm of his hand. “Good, good.” After a few minutes she seemed to come around. Now in possession of at least some of her former faculties, she stared at him. Without warning, she reached out and pulled him into a hug. It was so unexpected that he nearly cried out.
“Thank you, Barrow.” She whispered into his neck before releasing him as quickly as she had pulled him in. He staggered in his crouched position, still reeling from the smell of her hair and the warmth of her breath on his neck. Shaking his head a little, he smiled at her and she smiled back.
“Matthew. My first name is Matthew.” Her smile widened and suddenly their proximity was far beyond just being an issue. He had held his attraction at bay when she had been distressed, but seeing her almost completely righted again was allowing all sorts of sensations to pop up, most notably the knot in his gut and the fire in his veins. Deciding that he couldn’t stay crouched in front of her like that, he stood up and took a step back, into the center of the small towel closet. “Ready for another question?” he asked gently. When she nodded, he asked, “Why weren’t you here this morning? You didn’t meet me until almost eight thirty, so you could have taught your class.”
She nodded again and, as her eyes fell to the floor, she began, “Well, I was planning to, but last night I got caught up rereading the reports again and it was well after two am before I realized it. So, I called Bruce, he’s the night manager here, and asked him to change the board. I figured Pam and Carl could handle the class without me. He said he’d call them for me in the morning and that was that. I went to bed. I didn’t think to call up here this morning...” Her voice cracked and when her head lifted to face him again, a fresh batch of tears hovered behind her eyes. “They are dead because of me...he came here looking for me and now they are dead...it’s all my fault...” To her credit, she didn’t break down and cry, just stared at him with those heavy, stormy eyes.
“Listen to me, it’s not your fault. Those people are dead because some asshole with too much crazy in him decided that they should be. It’s his fault, not yours.”
Chapter 11
He was right. That man did this. That horrible man had taken yet another of her pleasures and destroyed it. First her family, then her home, now her meager social life, after all, the gym was the only thing outside of work she actually enjoyed. The anger that these truths produced gave her her strength back. Piecing her calm back together, she stood up. Barrow, Matthew, was standing just a few feet from her in the dimly lit closet and for a split second she wanted to hug him again. The first one had been involuntary, a remnant of her childhood, ‘the need for physical contact when experiencing extreme emotional turmoil’, at least that was the way it was described in her psychology books. What she wanted now was far less impulsive. She wanted to thank him, not for simply being there, but for saving her from the pit of hopelessness that seeing Pam and Carl had opened up in her heart. He had brought her back, saved her from the abyss. In that one act, she had conceeded to the idea of being friends, truly friends, with him despite his sex...and her attraction. Trust, and reliance, spread through her like sunshine on a clear day. She stood for a moment trying to decide if she had it in her, what
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