And what now? The clock is ticking. He doesn’t have all the time in the world to come up with Killian’s money. I can’t even let myself dwell on the what if question about what would happen if Ray couldn’t pay Killian back on time. Because if the answer is bad, then my heart might break. Because how can I be falling for a guy who would murder somebody?
I don’t wanna be falling for a bad guy.
But I might be.
Is he a bad guy?
***
I pull up to Killian’s building at ten thirty at night after a long, lovely evening with Susanna and her mom. I park in visitors’ parking and a security guy eyes me as I approach the front desk.
“Hi. I’m staying with Killian Coulter in Penthouse two and I forgot to get a key for the garage, so is it okay if I just go up, see if he’s home, get it and then move my car?”
“I’ll have to announce you,” he says, scanning a clipboard on his desk. “There’s no note here.”
“No problem,” I tell him, and he directs me to wait in a sitting area near the elevators.
I sit down. And I wait.
And wait.
And wait some more. And I’m starting to wonder if I should go to Susanna’s for the night. Maybe he’s not home.
It’s been at least fifteen or twenty minutes and finally, the guard comes over and tells me he’ll escort me upstairs.
We get into the elevator and he puts a key in for an express ride up.
After I thank him and get off the elevator, I try the door. It’s locked, so I knock.
The door swings open and Killian’s got a face like thunder.
It makes me rear back.
He gestures for me to step in and slams the door.
My back goes arrow straight with the shock of the noise and the look on his face.
“You’re fine,” he observes, folding his arms across his chest.
“Yeah,” I squeak, feeling myself shrink.
“So, where have you been?” he demands.
“Sitting in the lobby for almost half an hour.”
“You know I don’t mean that.”
“And before that, um…” I take in his appearance as I stammer. He’s dressed in sweats, looks like he’s been interrupted during a workout. And he looks furious. “I spent the day with Susanna.”
“You think about saying something?”
I blink.
“I didn’t…” I blink twice, “didn’t think I was actually a prisoner here.”
What I’ve said could come across as snarky if it had a snarky tone. It doesn’t, though. My voice sounds meek. And I feel a pang of shame for it.
“You don’t think it might’ve been, I dunno, courteous to say something to me?” He glares daggers at me. “Also obviously didn’t think I’d worry that maybe Raymond grabbed you after not hearing from you all fucking day.”
My face falls.
“Didn’t think to send a text, leave a note?” he adds.
I swallow, but not without difficulty.
He twists the lock, jabs at a few buttons on the alarm panel and storms to the kitchen where he takes a bottle of water from the fridge and downs half of it.
I take a deep breath before speaking. “I apologize. Though if you were worried, maybe you could’ve texted or called to ask me.”
He waves his hand as if to say whatever and stalks off.
And I’m left standing there, trembling.
He only walks maybe four or five paces before he turns back around and glares at me. “Maybe I would’ve but thought maybe you were dodgin’ me because of last night.”
“I had those plans with her already,” I defend.
“And you didn’t think to say?” He cocks an eyebrow.
I shrug. “I guess I didn’t.”
He frowns and then strides toward me, voice thundering, “That guy had a loaded fucking gun last night!”
I instinctively back up until my back is against the door.
He stops, six feet away, anger morphing to concern.
“Violet?”
I’m shivering hard. I’m shaking my head. “I’m sorry. I’m-”
“Hey.” He finishes his approach and reaches out toward my face and I find myself on the floor, hugging my knees, hiding my face.
“Fuck.” He grunts and then squats. “Violet… I wasn’t gonna hurt you.”
I nod but my face is buried in my knees.
“Baby.” He touches my shoulder.
I squeeze my eyes tight and recoil even more.
I feel him move away but keep my face hidden.
“Here,” he says.
I look up.
He’s gotten me a bottle of water.
I shakily take it.
I look at him and his eyes are filled with concern, remorse too, I think. I open my water bottle.
“I’m sorry I overreacted,” I say. “You’re upset and I just… it’s The Ray effect.”
His eyes narrow. “Explain that.”
“He would get aggressive and scare me and you were…”
“Aggressive.”
I nod and then take a sip. I choke on it and it takes me a second to recover. And then Killian is right there, rubbing my back, trying to help, in a squat in front of me, hair in his concerned eyes.
He thrusts a hand through it to get it out of the way. “I’m sorry I reacted like that. I’ve had a shitty few days. And I felt like a jerk for last night. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“You were mad at me for not letting you hurt Ray. You were mad at Ray. And then last night things got weird,” I say.
“I was worried and pissed off, but don’t make excuses for me. Isn’t that what you did for him in the early days? You told me that, remember? You shouldn’t have to make excuses for someone else’s bad behavior.”
“These aren’t early days for us, Killian; there’s no us. I’m just the pathetic, broken marker you’re trying to help while you get your money back from my loser ex who refuses to accept he’s an ex.” I sniffle and take another sip of the water.
His eyes actively search my face, and this makes me uncomfortable, so I decide to get up off the floor, which must look just so pathetic. That’s how I feel. Pitiful.
“I apologize for being a poor houseguest. I’m sorry; I like to spend Sundays with Susanna. We made a pact today to do it wherever possible, so I’ll plan to do something with her next Sunday, too. Maybe you can lend me a set of spare keys to borrow for the rest of the time I’m here.”
He continues to stare from his squat.
And I stand there feeling silly.
“And you went out yesterday,” I say, “and didn’t say anything to me, so I kinda used that in my head as justification to not say anything, because yes, I felt weird about last night. About how you were before Ray texted me last night. About how I reacted in the … um… bed. About… all of it. I’m sorry you were concerned. I didn’t think about it that way, didn’t think about how after last night you might be worried about Ray.”
Finally, he rises. He scratches his chin, looking thoughtfully at me.
I try one more stab at an apology. “I’m fucked up. I’m sorry. Please accept my apology.”
His expression doesn’t change so I keep babbling.