Shadows of the Past Page 14

  When I walk in the front door to my apartment, Emily, and her latest girlfriend, Lily, are cuddled up on the couch together watching a movie. Both heads turn to me when I shut the door and Emily grins at me. "Had a good weekend, did you?"

  "You don't even know the half of it," I tell her, a goofy smile on my face, as I walk further into the room. She gestures toward the other couch in the room, clearly wanting me to take a seat, and shockingly, I do.

  I have no idea what they're watching, and to be honest I really don't care. My mind is occupied with thoughts of Oliver, and all the things that happened this weekend. From our first date, to our first time having sex, to the many orgasms he gave me... It was a truly epic weekend, and one I'm eager to repeat.

  "So?" Emily prompts, waiting to hear what happened. I didn't really talk to her after our date Friday night, so I start there, with how he found the Honky Tonky.

  I gush about how sweet he was when he brought me home. That's not enough for Emily, though.

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah. We know," she says dismissively. "He's perfect. But, since you're walking like you've been ridden hard and put away wet," her imagery causes my cheeks to flush as red. She isn't wrong; there were definitely moments where it was hard. "I'm assuming you spent the rest of the weekend shagging."

  Raising a single perfectly plucked eyebrow, she asks, "Am I right?"

  The deepening flush on my cheeks is a dead giveaway. She claps her hands and squeals.

  "I knew it! Please, please tell me he's hung like a horse." She holds her hands about a foot apart. "Is he this big? Oh! Or maybe this big?"

  It's like the fishermen back home, instead of coming closer together to a more realistic length, she just gets bigger. If I don't stop her, her arms will be spread as wide as they go, like that's even possible. I just shake my head, ignoring her question until she starts to pout.

  "Aw, come on Kayla! Let me live vicariously through you! There are entirely too many men with tiny, wonky packages, and he's perfect in every other way. He can't be one of them!"

  "He's not wonky or tiny," I say quietly, a small smile forming on my face when her mouth drops open. Being able to shock her is a feeling I am unaccustomed to. Keeping my resulting smile from spreading all over my face is almost impossible.

  "Oh, hell yeah!" she says loudly, punching a fist into the air, causing both me and Lily to collapse on the couches in laughter.

  "What?" she asks, looking completely confused at our reactions.

  When we're both laughing too hard to respond, she sits back down with a huff to watch the movie. Lily is quick to soothe her ruffled feathers, pulling her in for a kiss that makes me a little jealous. Jealous that she has the option of kissing someone tonight, not jealous of the fact that someone is kissing her. Watching her cuddle on the couch and watch a movie with her girlfriend makes me miss Oliver.

  When the movie finally ends, I start getting ready for bed. I take my time in the shower, letting the hot water soothe my sore muscles before putting on a pair of sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

  My phone rings as soon as I lay down, and when I see Oliver's name on the screen I smile the same goofy smile I had earlier before answering.

  "Hey you," his voice says huskily in my ear. "You weren't asleep were you?" Even if I were, I wouldn't give up the opportunity to talk to him.

  Rolling over onto my back, wishing I was still at his flat, I reply, "No, not yet. I had actually just laid down when the phone rang."

  "Ahh," he breathes. "Well, I just wanted to call and tell you goodnight. My bed feels empty without you here. Actually, my arms feel empty without you here. I miss you."

  Oliver knows exactly what to say to make me feel special. To show me that he wants me for more than just sex, although he's been doing that for a while considering we just slept together.

  I sigh into the phone. "I miss you, too. I wish I were there with you instead of here alone."

  The phone is silent for a second before Oliver groans. "You shouldn't say things like that, Kayla. It makes me want to come get you and bring you back." I laugh softly. If he only knew how much I'd love it if he did that.

  "You can't do that, Ollie." He growls at the nickname he dislikes so much, but I continue as though I didn't hear him. "You have to work in the morning and if I spend the night over there neither of us will sleep. We'd both be useless tomorrow."

  He laughs at the picture my words paint, but he knows I'm right. Finally, he tells me, "True. I'll see you tomorrow night, Kayla. Sweet dreams."

  "You too. Good night."

  As soon as the phone disconnects, I roll over to go to sleep with a silly smile on my face. He’s perfect.

  CHAPTER 31

  The next day at work drags by. Not because I'm not busy, but because I keep checking my phone in the hope Oliver has a free moment to text me. Reggie is running us all ragged because the hotel owner is coming in to do a yearly review.

  Everyone has been called in to help get everything ready and make sure our boss doesn't get in trouble. Just when I'm getting ready to leave, Oliver walks in wearing one of his well-tailored suits—this one is gray. He’s paired it with a thin blue tie that matches his eyes.

  Our gazes meet and I’m surprised to see him.

  "Hey, what are you doing here? Did Emily tell you I was working today?"

  Before he gets the chance to say anything, Reggie's boss, Mark, hurries over to us, holding out a hand for Oliver to shake. "Mr. Jackson! You're early."

  Oliver shakes his hand, keeping his eyes on me the entire time. My confusion must show on my face, because Oliver rubs a hand across the back of his neck with a guilty look in his eyes. The guilt he's feeling clues me in to what's going on.

  "You're the owner?" My tone is sharp. My stomach churns as I fit the pieces together, how he found me here, how he knew my daily habits.

  My initial inkling floods back—he was stalking me. I can't believe this. All this time, he owns the freaking hotel. He’s probably seen my file and everything. Why would he do this?

  Disgust floods through me. I slept with him. Multiple times. He played me and I let him. He starts to step forward, his mouth opening to give me an explanation, but I don't want to hear it.

  I don't even want to look at him right now. I took the chance, let him in, and look what happened. This is exactly why I don't let people get close to me. They can't be trusted; they'll hurt you the first chance they get.

  Oliver looks over at Mark and says something to him, but I don't catch it. I'm too busy breaking apart inside. Whatever he says has Mark glancing over at me in concern, before walking away to give us some privacy.

  Oliver wraps his hand around my elbow and leads me into the manager's office. As soon as the door shuts I turn on him, my eyes flashing angrily. I’m in his face, shoving a finger into his chest.

  "You lied to me! I asked you how you found me! I asked you if you were stalking me. You said no! You could have told me a million times that you freaking own the building I work in, that you didn’t meet me by chance. Why didn’t you tell me?"

  "I never lied to you," he says flatly. "What was I supposed to say? You didn't trust me, and I was afraid if I told you the hotel was mine, you wouldn't give me a chance."

  “I wouldn't have.” I glare at him and step back before folding my arms across my chest. I feel so betrayed and I can’t tell if I should. Why would he hide this from me? How could he mention he saw his dad shoot himself but leave this out? It reeks.

  "Why did you orchestrate this? Was there some point?"

  "No." He shakes his head frantically, horror filling his eyes. "Kayla, I'm interested in you, because of you, not because of where you work or because I'm trying to pull something over on you."

  I don't believe him. Wanting to be far away from him, I try to leave the office, but he blocks the door. He starts to put his hands on me, to make me listen to him, but I don't want to stay. I just want to go home, to forget that any of this even happened.

  "Bloody hell
, Kayla. Will you please give me a chance to explain?"

  My breath is coming fast and I know I'm going to have a panic attack. I had so many of them right after everything happened before, but it's been so long since the last one the warning signs didn't register.

  "Don't touch me," I manage to snarl at him, jerking away from his touch. If he touches me, I'm not sure whether I'll collapse into him or slap his face. “Lies, you went on and on about not tolerating liars, which is ironic since the biggest liar you know looks back at you from the mirror each morning.”

  "Kayla..." he starts, his voice breaking. When I don't acknowledge him, he tries again. "Look at me, American Girl."

  Hearing the nickname he gave me is the last straw. Tears overflow from my eyes and I can’t stop them. I swat at my face, angry he's seeing me like this, that I let him do this to me.

  I'm crying too hard to stop him from wrapping his arms around me. He holds me close to his chest and murmurs "I'm sorry," over and over against the top of my head. I can't bring myself to leave his embrace. I'm trembling, freezing, feeling like I'll never be warm again and I hate that the smell of his cologne is comforting me.

  I can't. I can't let him do this to me.

  Finally, I gather the strength to jerk out of his arms, wiping the tears from my cheeks as I glare up at him. This is the last time I'm going to look at him, the last time I'll allow myself to look at him. Running my eyes across his features, I commit them to memory even though I know I shouldn't. I shouldn't want to remember him, I should be blocking him out of my head and my heart, but I still care too much about him.

  “Tell me why. Say it. If you weren't malicious, if you had good intentions, tell me what you were doing. Because it seems like you found my weakness and used it against me.”

  “Kayla, it’s not like that—”

  “But you have no answer. If you know so much about me, you should have known what lying to me would do. I’ve been here before, Oliver, and I’m not doing it again.”

  He must see the goodbye in my eyes because he draws in a sharp breath. "Don't do this."

  "I didn't do this, Oliver. You did.” My voice is thick with unshed tears and I need to get out of here.

  He shakes his head, his own eyes glassy when he argues, "Please, you don’t understand.”

  "Then make me understand. Give me the simple explanation that seems to allude you right now.” I wait a beat and when he opens his mouth and nothing comes out. I smash my lips together, trying not to scream. “I can't do this with you. I need to go."

  This time he doesn't stop me when I step around him and open the door. Oliver's voice rings out from behind me.

  "This is bullshit, Kayla. You never let me in and you're using this as an excuse to push me away. I told you so much. About my past, about my father, about my relationship with my sister, and how it was affected because of the choices our parents made. You've never told me a thing about what you're running from. I will fight for you, for us, but I can't fight against you."

  "I'm glad I didn't." I spin back around to face him for the last time. "Get off your high horse, Oliver. Yeah, you told me some things. You told me some really painful things, but you kept this from me. What else are you keeping? How many other secrets are going to come out? You played me and I fell for it. I don’t care what your reason is—nothing can undo this."

  His voice is soft next time he speaks. "There aren't any more secrets on my end. You're the one keeping secrets now."

  “I can't listen to this.”

  “Because it’s true—because no matter how far you run, the thing propelling you is always there, day in and day out. You can’t run from yourself, Kayla.”

  I stare at him, wide-eyed in horror. His words slice through me, cutting me to the bone. How dare he say that? I’m right, and he’s wrong. This isn’t about me—it’s about him. HE LIED!

  Although my mind is racing, I can’t say a thing. Desperate to get away, I turn on my heel and walk as fast as I can. Oliver calls after me, but I don't turn back.

  When I make it outside, I take a deep breath, knowing everything is about to change again.

  I look sadly back at the hotel, realizing I have to quit. He won't leave me alone if I stay here.

  The thing that worries me the most is a single thought—what if he’s right?

  CHAPTER 32

  Emily is waiting for me when I finally get back to the flat. I stopped to fill out job applications at every business I could think of on the way home, desperate to find a different place of employment. I avoided places Oliver and I went together, staying away from the Gardens and Honky Tonky, concentrating more on the shops, and places I'm unlikely see him. Of course, I had to duck into the first bathroom I could find to wipe the tear stains from my cheeks, not wanting to look like a complete wreck.

  The third shop I tried, a high-end clothing shop that employs personal shoppers, was hiring. If I get the job, I'll assist an actual Personal Shopper, running errands for them and helping them with their duties. The pay is a little above what I make at the hotel restaurant and has the added benefit of not seeing Oliver.

  As soon as I shut the door, Emily rushes over to wrap her arms around me.

  "Are you okay? I can't believe he did this to you. Do you want me to kick his ass? Should I have Reggie kick his ass? I have a couple brothers who could do it, too, if you want." She doesn't even give me time to answer one question before she asks another. I can't keep up with her.

  Pulling away from her, I walk over to the couch and curl up, wrapping my arms around my knees and staring blankly at the television. "What's the point? It's done, we're over. I just want to move on."

  My voice sounds flat, unemotional and detached. Emily's watching me with eyes full of concern, but I can't bring myself to care. The numbness is familiar and I need time to get through it.

  "Kayla?" Emily asks, walking over to me cautiously. "I'm here if you want to talk. Please, don't shut me out. I want to help you."

  I squeeze my eyes closed before nodding to let her know I heard her. I'm not ready to talk. I don't know that I ever will be. Every time I start to thaw, something happens that shoves me right back in this box. I feel trapped.

  Everyone seems to think I want to be this way on purpose, that I just don't want people to care about me, but that's not it. I'm terrified of letting anyone in, of losing anyone else. I've already lost my babies and the guy I thought was the love of my life. I pushed my mother and sister away because I couldn't bear to lose them, too.

  Now I've lost Oliver, although I guess I never really had him to begin with.

  The sudden banging on the door startles me out of my reverie.

  Emily's head snaps to the side, her startled eyes meeting my own. Who the hell would be making such a racket? She walks over to the door, her hands trembling slightly and she gasps when she looks out the peephole.

  Turning back to me, she mouths, "It's Oliver!"

  I can feel the color leaving my face. He's here? Why? We said everything that could possibly be said. Why is he doing this to me?

  Standing, I gesture to my room to let Emily know I'm going in there. I don't want to see him. I don't want to talk to him. I just want him to leave me alone.

  He hasn't stopped banging on the door, and as I reach my room, his voice comes through the door and makes both of us jump.

  "Kayla, let me in. Please? Let me explain without a group of people listening to everything we say. You know I'd never hurt you intentionally. Please, just give me a chance."

  The pain in his voice is obvious and it takes everything in me to stay in my doorway. Emily continues to watch me, her eyes are bright with unshed tears as she walks over to me.

  "Are you sure you don't want to talk to him? Maybe there is an explanation?"

  Where's the girl who a few minutes ago was offering to kick his ass? That's the girl I need, not one who's willing to forgive him as soon as he says a few pretty words. I shake my head, backing into my room and shuttin
g the door.

  "Shit," she mutters, before walking back over to the front door. I don't hear her take the chain off, but I lock my door anyway just in case.

  "Emily, let me in. I need to talk to her." Oliver is pleading with her and it's all I can do to stay in my room and not go out to him.

  I can't understand what she says in return, but based on his shouted expletive, it isn't something good. When she stops speaking, the flat is silent for long enough that I think she got him to leave.

  I open the door to my room then freeze in my tracks at the sight of him still standing out in the hallway. The only thing keeping him from me is the chain on the door blocking his entrance.

  Oliver's eyes devour me like he's afraid he might never see me again and mine do the same to his.

  "Kayla," he says, his voice rough from the shouting he's been doing. "Kayla, I need you to let me in. Please, baby, we need to talk. I need to explain it to you."

  "No," I say firmly, shaking my head at him and feeling my eyes fill with tears once more. Will they ever stop? Am I destined to cry more tears than to smile? "I can't talk to you right now, Oliver. I don't know that I'll ever be able to talk to you again. Finding out you're keeping secrets from me is too painful. I refuse to be in a relationship built on lies. You once said the same thing, so surely you understand." My voice is quieter when I raise my eyes to meet his, seeing my pain reflected in his icy blue orbs. "I'm sorry."

  He must see the resolve on my face because he turns away, nodding once before leaving. Emily closes the door behind him. I'm not sure which hurts more at this point, the fact that he looks as broken as I feel, or that he just gave up, and I’ll never know why he lied.

  CHAPTER 33

  Three days later I'm starting my new job as a personal shopper's assistant. I walk in and ask for Meghan at the register. A petite, dark-haired girl comes out of the back to greet me. I'm not tall by any means, but this girl makes me feel like a giant. If she's more than five-feet-tall, I'd be surprised.