We make a quick trip to the bar, and he orders me a whiskey neat without asking me what I’d like. Given my history, a move like that would be a negative in my eyes, even triggering, but with him, it’s exactly what I need.
“Go dance for me,” he whispers in my ear and leans his back against the bar.
“Now?”
“Now.”
He hands me my drink with that soft sexy smile that if you could bottle it, would be a sure way to obliterate any woman’s resolve. I slowly down my drink in its entirety then lick my lips slowly to assure I’ve captured every drop, as well as given Tristan a proper prelude. I take two steps away from him before looking back over my shoulder.
He’s sipping slowly on his amber tumbler as I take my first step down, then another. The pale white lights begin to drift across my body as I twist and turn through the crowd to find the perfect spot for him to watch the show he desires.
It’s particularly crowded this evening, but that only adds to the excitement. All these people are around, but none of them know exactly what is going on between us. They don’t know that he’s fantasizing about all of the things he wants to do to me and all of the things we’ve already done together.
The song bleeds into a faster, more heart-pounding beat so I raise my arms above my head, and begin to move. The base begins to vibrate my chest. A group of girls to my right seem to adopt me so I decide to blend in with them, but always have my eye on Tristan. He’s left his perch at the corner of the bar to lean with arms slightly spread against the metal railing surrounding the dance floor.
His eyes blend slowly from left to right, depending on the way I move or contort my body how the music tells me to.
Time ceases to exist. Have I been dancing for two minutes? Twenty-two? One hundred and twenty-two? I can’t even tell, but there is sweat beading on my brow, my body is on fire from the intensity of his gaze, and I’m having the time of my life.
Until I open my eyes and a flash of very evil, very familiar ones connect with mine from across the room. I blink once and the person they belong to is gone. I start scanning the room to the beat of the song. I can feel a presence without seeing it. It’s like I can feel hands around my neck and the walls closing in on me. I back into one person, then another. I feel like I’m the ball in an arcade game and can’t seem to get out.
I hardly have time to do anything else before strong, tight hands wrap around my arms.
“Petal? Are you all right?”
But I don’t hear him, not really. I don’t process it. All I can think about is getting out of here and his hands on me strikes a match in my fear.
“No!” I shout. “Don’t touch me!”
Everyone near me starts watching. I feel a thousand eyes on me at once. The feeling is too claustrophobic. I need air. I need air now. I take off for the darkened hallway where Tristan and I shared our first dance together. I don’t know why I run there instead of outside so I can get as far away from the image of those eyes. They are the eyes of what I imagine the devil to be.
I rest my hand on the jamb of a doorway in that hall. It’s the only way I can feel grounded. The notion of being somewhere I can’t be seen is all I can think about.
“Nora!” Tristan’s voice sounds again, but he doesn’t touch me this time. “I need you to talk to me. Are you all right?”
“I just…” I struggle for a breath that won’t come. “I can’t breathe.”
Tears don’t come. I can’t cry. I’m overwhelmed and scared and I just want to get the hell out of here.
“Are you hurt? Did something happen? Do you need a hospital?” He is going through the motions of damage control. What he doesn’t know is that I’m too damaged. I can’t be fixed.
“I’m not hurt. I thought I saw someone.”
“You saw someone? This someone was a man?”
Tristan
Nora has gone from my Petal to someone I don’t know in nearly the blink of an eye. She thinks she saw a man. She’s used to men ogling over her. That’s not the issue. The issue is the specific man she either did or thinks she saw. In either respect, she’s terrified and I need to help her.
“Tell me what to do, Petal. You say you can’t breathe. Do you want me to take you out of here?”
“Yes.” She nods. “Get me out of here. I have to go home. I can’t do this.”
“I’ll take you out of this club, but you are coming home with me. I’m not leaving you unattended while you’re this upset.” I try to take her hand but she pulls it away.
“I can walk on my own, and I don’t need to be coddled.”
“You’re coming home with me,” I tell her firmly and this time, she doesn’t fight.
Without placing my hand on her back the way I normally would, I guide her through the club, watching in horror as she rapidly and skittishly darts her eyes around the room, like she’s looking for a ghost.
As we wait for the valet to find my car, she stands in the glow of the street lamp with her arms folded across her chest. I can see the pulse racing in her neck and the visible shake to her legs. I will have to catch her if she falls, no matter if she wants to be touched or not. I’m so puzzled by this shocking reversal. I need to know what happened, however, I’m quite certain I won’t like the answer.
A group of patrons exit the club behind us and there’s a cacophony of laughter that makes her jump out of her skin and turn away, hiding her face in the shadows just as my car arrives.
When she’s safely in her seat, I slide behind the wheel and speed away from whatever is scaring her.
***
The farther we get from the club, the tighter my grip on the wheel becomes. She hasn’t said a word to me since we left. She’s just sitting as still as a statue, staring out ahead as rain begins to fall on the windshield. I try once again to offer her some comfort. I want to touch her in a way I feel like she could accept. I run the back of my knuckles slowly over hers. She doesn’t flinch, but she doesn’t reciprocate either.
That feels like a step in the right direction to me.
The silence, however, only gives me time to think, to come up with scenario after scenario in my head that could have caused her to have such a visceral reaction to simply seeing someone. None of them are good, and they only serve to make me want to break someone’s fucking face. Nora is on the edge. She’s either on the edge of a cliff ready to push someone in, or she’s on the edge of a complete shutdown. I’m only sufficiently equipped to handle one of those scenarios.
My car races down the ramp and into my private parking. The nearest car is several spots away, but Nora is looking to the right, left, and behind us two and three times before I can even get her to respond to my voice.
Intentionally, I lower my voice to barely a whisper. “Petal. I’m going to offer you my jacket. You're shivering and I would feel like an arse if I didn’t do anything about it. I promise my hands will not touch your skin, only the fabric.” When I don’t get a verbal answer, I take that as a cue. As I walk to her side of the vehicle, I slide my suit coat off so I have it in hand in her line of vision as I open the door.
She’s already leaning into her lap, which makes this connection easy. “I’d like you to please come with me upstairs. If you want me to take your hand, place yours in mine.”