still had said emotional beast within me, but I did. My skin crawled and I shivered as a heavy, thick blanket of dread and doubt smothered me.
The self-loathing stew I’d swallowed regularly years ago boiled to the surface. I’d held reality at bay long enough. I roved the staring crowd with my unsteady gaze once more and noted the inaudible conversations. I felt every word.
I didn’t deserve him. I never had.
They all knew. He left before. They were waiting, watching. Wanting it to happen again, because we all knew it would.
Panic attacks had been a nemesis of mine back in the seventh grade, when the little brothers of my bigger brothers’ so-called friends took it upon themselves to welcome me to junior high with routine pranks and general asshattery. Fortunately, the panic attacks had gone away when Caleb and a few of his friends fertilized the practice field with their blood one day after school.
“Hey.”
I inhaled his musky cologne as he squeezed my arm and leaned into my personal space. I tumbled into the confidence lingering in his grey eyes and took a panicky breath or two before my brain rebooted and activated the what-the-hell-are-you-freaking-for program it stored for such occasions.
The same look of possessive rage from back in junior high crawled through his gaze as he studied me a moment before looking up and down the road. His jaw twitched as he stood his full height and wrapped an arm around me. When I shivered he paused and slid his leather jacket off, wrapping me up in it before herding me to the waiting Hummer.
The interior was warm and welcoming—a heady shot of all male in sleek, dark lines and rugged interior countered by soft seating. I sank into the vehicle, the privacy it offered with the limousine-blackened windows. My pulse quickened when he shut his door and settled into the driver’s seat beside me.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” I closed my eyes, partially in shame for allowing the side of me I’d thought exorcised out to play. The other part hadn’t accepted the firm grasp Caleb still had on me. Deep, deep down nothing had changed. I’d always been his. I’d maintained the belief he’d be mine again. And here he was—batting back the demons, in this case paparazzi and nosy town folk, the way he always had.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but I’ve got my people working on containment. Things should die down in a couple of days.”
He had people. Huh. The fact shouldn’t surprise me, but it proved the foolishness in my belief he was the same as he’d once been. A man with people couldn’t be the small-town football hero who’d fled White Bluffs to chase his rock star dream. Could he?
My heart and soul burned in a resolute yes while my weary mind grumbled it didn’t much care anymore. Whatever. I’d let me inner hussy continue to steer the treacherous waters of indecision because she had a way of letting shit bounce off her—she was Teflon coated with armor protectant.
God, I’m not even making sense.
I sighed my weariness and looked out the window. We’d been moving for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. There wasn’t much on this side of White Bluffs—past the broken bridge, over the hill due west.
When we made the turn I forced the question out even though I already knew the answer when we halted at a massive stoned entrance. A couple shadowy figures worked to open the huge double gates. “Where are we going?”
“Where the media can’t follow.”
Flashbulbs flickered small glimmers of light fracturing the otherwise settling darkness. The last time I’d been out here hadn’t gone well. Adrenaline activated and my fight or flight response screamed Run, for the love of all things Caleb, Run!
The tormented shards of doubt shoved into me years ago by the woman within the house slid through my veins like a presence I’d never fully expelled. They’d never accept me. Hell, they’d been so determined to get him away from
The self-loathing stew I’d swallowed regularly years ago boiled to the surface. I’d held reality at bay long enough. I roved the staring crowd with my unsteady gaze once more and noted the inaudible conversations. I felt every word.
I didn’t deserve him. I never had.
They all knew. He left before. They were waiting, watching. Wanting it to happen again, because we all knew it would.
Panic attacks had been a nemesis of mine back in the seventh grade, when the little brothers of my bigger brothers’ so-called friends took it upon themselves to welcome me to junior high with routine pranks and general asshattery. Fortunately, the panic attacks had gone away when Caleb and a few of his friends fertilized the practice field with their blood one day after school.
“Hey.”
I inhaled his musky cologne as he squeezed my arm and leaned into my personal space. I tumbled into the confidence lingering in his grey eyes and took a panicky breath or two before my brain rebooted and activated the what-the-hell-are-you-freaking-for program it stored for such occasions.
The same look of possessive rage from back in junior high crawled through his gaze as he studied me a moment before looking up and down the road. His jaw twitched as he stood his full height and wrapped an arm around me. When I shivered he paused and slid his leather jacket off, wrapping me up in it before herding me to the waiting Hummer.
The interior was warm and welcoming—a heady shot of all male in sleek, dark lines and rugged interior countered by soft seating. I sank into the vehicle, the privacy it offered with the limousine-blackened windows. My pulse quickened when he shut his door and settled into the driver’s seat beside me.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” I closed my eyes, partially in shame for allowing the side of me I’d thought exorcised out to play. The other part hadn’t accepted the firm grasp Caleb still had on me. Deep, deep down nothing had changed. I’d always been his. I’d maintained the belief he’d be mine again. And here he was—batting back the demons, in this case paparazzi and nosy town folk, the way he always had.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but I’ve got my people working on containment. Things should die down in a couple of days.”
He had people. Huh. The fact shouldn’t surprise me, but it proved the foolishness in my belief he was the same as he’d once been. A man with people couldn’t be the small-town football hero who’d fled White Bluffs to chase his rock star dream. Could he?
My heart and soul burned in a resolute yes while my weary mind grumbled it didn’t much care anymore. Whatever. I’d let me inner hussy continue to steer the treacherous waters of indecision because she had a way of letting shit bounce off her—she was Teflon coated with armor protectant.
God, I’m not even making sense.
I sighed my weariness and looked out the window. We’d been moving for a few minutes in a comfortable silence. There wasn’t much on this side of White Bluffs—past the broken bridge, over the hill due west.
When we made the turn I forced the question out even though I already knew the answer when we halted at a massive stoned entrance. A couple shadowy figures worked to open the huge double gates. “Where are we going?”
“Where the media can’t follow.”
Flashbulbs flickered small glimmers of light fracturing the otherwise settling darkness. The last time I’d been out here hadn’t gone well. Adrenaline activated and my fight or flight response screamed Run, for the love of all things Caleb, Run!
The tormented shards of doubt shoved into me years ago by the woman within the house slid through my veins like a presence I’d never fully expelled. They’d never accept me. Hell, they’d been so determined to get him away from
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