“That might be.” I let her go, busying myself with cutting another mouthful. “But it does mean I can never let you go. Ever.”
Chapter Thirteen
______________________________
Olin
-The Present-
“SHIT, SHIT, SHIT.”
Comprehension shot back, wrenching my eyes open as a wash of pain throbbed in my skull. New pain compounded on top of old pain, wrenching a groan from my lips and a full body seize. I hissed under my breath, pressing palms against my temples, trying to rub the ache away.
What the hell happened?
I seemed to be asking that question a lot lately.
The rainforest mural framed Gil as he paced a few metres away, his back to me, both hands hidden in his hair. His own injuries from before seemed non-existent as he prowled with anxiety.
My eyes trailed from him to the rainforest graffiti, noticing an orangutan in the shadows and an otter playing in the river glistening by the floor.
My heart kicked with remembrance then thudded with panic.
Police.
Kidnapping.
Nothing...
He buried his face into his hands. “Fuck, what have I done?” He looked at the ceiling as if in prayer, then growled as if cursing the lack of guidance. “Fuck!”
Spinning around, his gaze landed on mine, his hands tumbled to his sides. “Oh, thank God.” Bolting toward me, he skidded to his knees where I lay on his couch. “You’re okay.” He gathered me tight, crushing me in a bone-crunching hug. His lips brushed my aching temple, his breath fast and worried. “Thank fuck you’re okay.” His entire body shuddered as if holding me unlocked every gate and smashed every wall between us.
I willingly paid for the privilege of his hug with my headache. I could’ve lived in that moment forever—the moment where only truth existed. The truth of us. The truth that he did care. And deeply.
I tried to move in his arms. To hug him back. To pull him close.
But he fell backward, ripping his hold away, taking his warmth and safety. His eyes met mine, chaotic with monstrous things. “I thought I’d lost you.” His voice held a mutiny of self-hatred and decade’s worth of regret. “Again.”
“Wh-what happened?” I licked my lips, wincing as another throb of pain found me.
He jerked as if I’d slapped him. “You slipped.”
I’d woken in a total role reversal.
I’d taken his place, and he was the one nursing me.
But why is he being nurse in the first place?
I swallowed back a wash of nausea, blinking until my vision restored. “I slipped? How?” I looked down at my hands, expecting to see my phone in them. I’d been leaving. I’d been talking to the police.
I didn’t slip. I was slammed into the door.
Gil came closer, his face a riot of pain. He ducked by the couch, fumbling to take my hand; cupping it in both of his, he pressed cool lips to my knuckles. “I’m so, so sorry, O.”
“Wait...” I swallowed hard. “You did this to me?” I ripped my hand away. “You knocked me out?”
He hunched, his green eyes flashing. “I didn’t mean to. I only meant to unbalance you. I just wanted your phone. But...I pushed too hard. You tripped and fell against the door.” His throat worked as he swallowed back self-loathing. “You hit the handle. It...it knocked you out.” His eyes squeezed shut. “Fuck, I could’ve killed you.”
I couldn’t make sense of anything. “Why...why did you want my phone?”
Swooping to his feet, he backed away from me. His chin came up, an element of frost inching over his features. “I couldn’t let you speak to the police.”
“The police?” I scooted upright, hating the way the room spun. “Why not?”
His face fell into darkness. “I just couldn’t.”
“So, you thought it would be better to maim me?”
“I deserve everything you have to say to me.” His hands curled into fists. “But...first, I need you to do something for me.” The lines by his eyes were harsher, the colour of his skin ashen. He’d aged ten years in just a few minutes.
“Do something for you? Why the hell would I want to do you a favour after you knocked me out?!” I couldn’t understand. Everything about Gil confused me to the point of a migraine. “I know I upset you, Gil, but I didn’t think you’d actually hurt me.”
Swinging my legs to the floor, I stole the rest of his water left on the coffee table. I wanted more pills. An entire handful of them to wash away the pain.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed upward. My legs struggled to hold my weight, my brain still recovering from being smashed into a door.
How could he do that?
Tears sprang to my eyes. How had I gotten everything so wrong?
Gil stepped closer as I swayed, his arms wide to catch me.
But I held up my hand, baring my teeth. “Don’t you dare touch me.”
He flinched as if I’d shot him in the heart. His arms fell, he backed away silently.
He’d gotten his wish. He’d won. Kiss or no kiss. Us or no us. I had no intention of ever coming back.
Physical violence was not acceptable, under any condition.
“I wish I never answered your damn advertisement,” I hissed, looking around for my handbag and phone. “You haven’t changed. You hurt me when we were younger and you’ve hurt me now.” Tears that I couldn’t stem flowed wetly down my cheeks. “Congratulations, Gilbert, you’re successfully the only man who’s broken my heart. Twice.”
Stumbling forward, I commanded my legs to work. I didn’t care if they were shattered or in pieces, I would use them to walk away. I’d run as fast as I could so I never had to see Gilbert Clark again.
Old injuries twinged from the car accident, reminding me I’d been strong enough to heal from that. I could heal from this, even if he had just ripped out everything vital inside me. “Where’s my phone? Give it to me.”
A loud fist banged on the roller door of his warehouse, vibrating through the entire space.
“Ah, shit.” Gil drove hands into his hair again, pacing frantically. He no longer watched me as if I’d murder him with my bare hands, but acted like a trapped animal, unpredictable and very, very dangerous.
I weaved, backing up a little as another loud knock shattered the silence. A shout followed with authority. “Police. Open up!”
What the—
Gil deleted the space between us with a swiftness that terrified. He crowded me. His large palms landed on my shoulders, squeezing me painfully, not letting go. His green gaze shot right into me, ripping and tearing, not caring how much he hurt me. “Olin, this is incredibly important. I need you to tell the police a fake licence plate number.”
“What? Why?” I squirmed in his hold. “Let go of me.”
His fingers only bit harder. He shook me, no consideration to my throbbing head. “Olin.” Temper painted his face with the blackest of colour. His eyes turned into weapons again, freezing me to the spot. “You must tell them a fake number.”
I’d never been afraid in Gil’s presence.
Not once.
Not even when he’d pushed me away when we were younger.