Say Nothing... (The Speak Series Book 2) (39 page)

She shakes her head.

"He told me you would say that. He said you hit on him at the bar when you left to get water, and when he turned you down again, you got pissed and left."

"Do you honestly believe that, Nat? I love Ben. I would never do anything to hurt him or you for that matter. He's lying to you. He's not safe."

"He showed me the pictures you sent him, Ari. The ones of you in your bed. How could you do that to Ben? That's his family."

"I've never sent him any pictures, Natalie."

"What about this?" She flips her phone around, and it's the pictures Ben must have seen.

"Are you going to try to lie and say this didn't happen, either? It's all over the internet." I shake my head in disbelief. He’s gotten to her and she’s done listening.

"You'll find out the truth soon enough. Until then, be careful." I leave the conference room and go straight into Mr. Benton's office. He looks up from his desk, and I'm trying with all that's holy to control my anger.

"I need to go home."

"Is everything okay?"

"No. It's a personal matter, and I think it's best if I leave."

"Okay. We're good for the day, that’s fine."

"Thank you." I'm out of his office in a flash. Stopping at my desk for my purse, I notice that Natalie is back at her desk. Not bothering with a good-bye, I walk out the door.

She has no reason to believe me. He set up everything perfectly, and with the release of those pictures today, I've only made her suspicion more plausible.

Letty is in the kitchen when I storm through the front door.

"I got your text. Why are you home so early?"

I head straight to the refrigerator without a word and pour myself the biggest glass of wine known to man.

"Oh shit, it must be bad if it has you throwing them back in the middle of the day. Is it about these?" I shake my head and just look at the ceiling, begging God to give me strength.

"Your mom and sisters already called me."

"Un-fucking-believable." I sigh. "Ben saw those today." Wine splashes out of my glass as I gesture toward her phone. "He flipped his shit and hung up on me. Which, now that I've actually seen them, I can't blame him."

"Did you explain?”

"I can't tell him over the phone. I need to get him to agree to come home for a weekend or figure out how to get over there. Now, everything is fucked. He won't even talk to me and that's not the worst of it."

She's standing wide-eyed almost afraid to make any sudden movements for fear I might bite her head off.

"That asshole brainwashed Natalie."

"What?"

"Natalie came back to work today, and when I tried to talk to her, she gave me the cold shoulder asking to speak to me in the conference room. He has pictures of me, Letty."

She walks up and pulls the glass out of my hand and takes a big gulp.

"That psycho told Nat I've been hitting on him."

"WHAT?" she screeches angrily. "And she believes him?"

"She said he has pictures of me all sprawled out on my bed that I supposedly sent him. He turned the story at the bar around and told her I hit on him and left pissed when he wouldn't reciprocate."

She paces the kitchen angrily, then pulls out her cell and starts scrolling.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for Junior's number. He just got out, and you know his crazy ass won't last more than six months. At least this time when he gets busted, it'll be for a good cause."

I snatch the phone from her.

"Ari, you can't let this crazy bastard get away with this. You need to tell Ben before he tells him the same story."

Fuck. I never thought of that.

"I need to get ready for the rehearsal. You should come with me?" she pleads.

"No, I'm no good to anyone today. I'm just going to stay here and try to get Ben to talk to me."

Letty hurries through the apartment as I sit and watch mindless TV. I've left a few voice messages and sent texts to Ben, all of which have gone unanswered. It's close to midnight in London, so I know he's not at work. He just doesn't want to talk to me and that thought makes me sick. What if he never speaks to me again? Amos could have gotten to him by now, and with the way things are between us, he would probably believe every word out of his lying mouth.

"Okay,
prima
. I'm out. You sure you're going to be okay tonight?" I nod.

"I just have the bride’s makeup then I'm coming right back. I'll give you a call and pick something up for us to pig out on later." She's trying to cheer me up and God bless her for putting up with all of this shit. I walk her out, and she pulls me in for a tight hug.

"He loves you. Just give him time. He'll pick up." I squeeze her back and make sure to set all the locks including the security chain.

His voicemail picks up again. I stopped paying attention to the time. I'm actually hoping that calling in the middle of the night will work in my favor and he'll pick up out of habit.
Nothing.

My screen flashes with a white box warning me that my phone only has ten percent battery left. Plugging it into the charger near the nightstand, I grab a towel and head for the shower.

Letting the hot spray wash over my tense muscles, I stand there until my skin prunes. The shower did nothing to keep Ben from the forefront of my mind. A note on the glass distracts me from my thoughts, and I do a double take as I exit the tub. My troubled brain has to be playing tricks on me because I'm seeing things. "Sweet girl" is written in the steam on the glass. My muscles stiffen, and I quickly check the lock on the door. It's unlocked. My chest starts to tighten as my breathing picks up. I look around for my cell phone, and my stomach bottoms out when I realize it's charging in the other room. I'm screwed. The voice from the haunted mansion ride sounds in my ears. There are literally no windows and unfortunately only one door—nowhere for me to run and escape if that monster has somehow figured out a way in and is now waiting for me.

My breathing is ragged and I try to calm it, knowing that fainting is not an option. I'm shivering, but it’s more from nerves than from being cold. A towel is the only thing protecting my bare skin. I'm thankful when I see my robe hanging on the hook behind the door. I wrap myself in it, making sure to tighten the belt.

A soft knock sounds on the door as I rummage through the small drawers of the vanity for something to protect myself with.

"Ari," he calls out. I don't answer. My voice will just come out small and weak from the fear currently running through my veins.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk. Will you come out for me?" he asks.

A metal nail file and a pair a tweezers are the only sharp objects I could find. For once, I wish I was the Southern gun-toting type with weapons hidden in closets and drawers. Weapons I would know how to use.

He raps on the door again. "Please, come out," he pleads.

I have two choices. I can wait here and hope he doesn't get angry and knock the door down, dragging me out by my hair, or face him and try to placate whatever sick plan he's come up with. Neither of my choices sounds appealing and both of them will potentially get me hurt. I mull it over and decide that keeping him calm is the better of my two options.

"I'll come out, but I need you to step away from the door," I say forcefully, attempting to hide the panic from my voice.

"Okay," he concedes.

I take a shuddering breath and slowly open the door. Amos is leaning against the wall facing me. He raises his hands in mock surrender, and the anger I felt earlier makes an appearance making me want to gouge his eyes out.

"See, I'm not going to hurt you," he says with a smile.

“How did you get in?” I set the security chain and unless he’s Houdini I’m not sure how he’s standing in my hallway.

“I’m a very determined man, beautiful.” He produces a pair of bolt cutters from behind his back.

"What do you want?" I ask with more strength than I expected.

His eyes rake over my body appreciatively making me pull the collar of my robe tighter.

"I just want to talk." The look in his eyes is betraying his innocent declaration.

"Do you mind if I change first," I ask. Having nothing on under my robe is adding to my anxiety. Not that I think a small scrap of material will deter him from doing what he wants with me.

"I've already set something out for you."

I notice the soft glow of candlelight illuminating from my bedroom. He watches as my eyes flit back and forth between him and the doorway.

"Go on. I'll wait here." I stay immobile not knowing what to do.

"Promise," he repeats, noticing my hesitation.

I enter my room and my favorite boxer shorts and tank are laid out across my bed. I open the drawer to retrieve my underwear when he begins to tsk.

"No. I want you to wear it like you wear it for him," he says huskily.

The striped boxer shorts and white tank are worn. The material is almost see-through from years of laundering. The curves and outline of my body will be on complete display.

I slip the boxers on under my robe. The tank will be trickier. I scoot deeper into the room out of his eyesight. Putting the tank over my neck, I quickly remove my arms out of the robe and bring the tank over my bare skin.

I kneel to pick up the robe when he calls out.

"Leave the robe."
Fuck.
I wait for a beat to contemplate my options, knowing I have none.

"I think we both know it's safer for you if you come back out into the hall," he says answering my thoughts.

He's right; I don't want to be anywhere near a bed with this man. My shaking legs somehow carry me back into the hallway. I lean against the wall opposite him and cross my arms over my chest. He shakes his head at that move.

"Arms to your sides." I do as he asks, and he sucks in a breath as soon as his eyes meet my body.

"Always so beautiful," he murmurs. "You're going to make it very hard for me to make any sense while you're wearing that, sweet girl." He reaches down to adjust himself, and I feel the bile begin to rise in my throat.

I shut my eyes, conjuring up the strength I need. He likes me weak. He still sees that seven-year-old who needs taking care of. It's time to end this.

"Why did you lie to Natalie?"

He grins. "You tried to dismiss me. You stopped accepting my calls, my texts. I just wanted you to get a chance to get to know me and when you wouldn't . . .”

He rubs a hand over his face. "I tried to move on. I did. Natalie . . . She's beautiful."

"Yes, she is."

He closes the space between us resting a hand above my head and uses the other to run his fingers down my cheek. "She's not you. Don't you get it? I've tried, Ari. I have," he says pacing the small space.

My hands lay flat against the wall behind me, keeping me steady.

"I love Ben. He's your nephew, your family. I know you don't want to hurt him, right?" I ask, hoping the mention of his family will make him change whatever he's planned tonight.

"That selfish prick doesn't appreciate what he has. It's just a matter of time before he's back sticking his dick in anything with a skirt." His comment is meant to sting, to play at the nagging insecurity I keep in the back of my mind.

"He loves me, and he loves you too. He would never want to see us hurt. So you need to stop this. You don't know me. I'm different from the girl you knew then."

"No." He interrupts, taking two short steps toward me. My body stiffens, and he cages me in with his arms. Pressing our foreheads together, he takes a deep breath.

"I'm done being patient. I came here for what's mine." His eyes close. I can't move, I can't breathe, and I'm back to that scared little girl sitting on the piano bench waiting for someone to save her.

"I've dreamed of you, of what it would feel like to have you in my arms, in my bed. Fifteen fucking years I've waited. I'm the only one who truly cares about you. Not your parents, not Ben, ME," he says agitated. I nod my head to appease him.

"Even after you had your parents toss me aside, I watched you. You were my sweet girl, so little, so fragile." He brushes his fingers across my cheek, and I close my eyes, fighting the natural instinct to recoil. "I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispers.

"You believe me, don't you?" I nod again; tears begin to trail down my cheeks. "I was weak. I never meant to scare you. That's why I forced myself to move away. I gave you time to grow up. I knew I couldn't have you the way I wanted until you were ready." My cell phone rings in the distance, making his head jerk away.

"Who is that?"

"I don't know." It's probably Letty calling to let me know she's on her way home.

"It's that asshole soccer player, isn't it?" He looks at me expectantly.

"I saw the pictures, beautiful." He squeezes my face and buries his nose in my hair. Inhaling slowly. "You’re not so sweet anymore. He took what should have been mine, didn't he?" I'm paralyzed with fear as he cups his hand between my legs. "You gave it up to him, didn't you? Now, he's back for more." My phone rings again only making him angrier.

"I'm not Ben. I fight for what's mine." I whimper as he leans in for a kiss. His tongue teases the seam of my lips and he fists my hair in frustration when I refuse him entry.

The sound of the front door opening startles us both.

"Ari . . . Ari . . .” Ben steps into the hall and his eyes look murderous as he takes in the scene.

"You sick bastard." He lunges for Amos knocking him to the ground. Fists fly as they lay into each other.

"You don't deserve her, you little prick." Blood splatters across the floor as Ben lands a punch to his mouth.

I'm frozen. My brain is telling me to move, but my body is unresponsive. I feel as if I'm outside of myself. The room begins to spin, and I'm trying to stay in control, but the black spots are closing in.