Duke(45)
Abbott nodded and stepped towards his door, saying, “Then we should have no problems,” as he slid into his car.
Duke carried Gen upstairs, came back down to lock the door and arm the security system. He undressed Gen and put his shirt on her. Abbott had touched her, hugged her, and she had his smell on her. Duke needed her to smell like him.
She was semi-conscious, and helped him a little, but he doubted she’d remember much tomorrow. Her breath smelled of rum, and he hoped to god she’d been right about not getting sick from dark liquor.
* * * *
Gen awoke nauseated, ran to the bathroom, and puked into the toilet.
What had possessed her to drink so much last night?
Oh yeah. Duke.
“Stupid asshole bastard,” she mumbled into the toilet. “No one’s worth this crap. He gets no more tears, no more drinking binges. My life is mine. I decide when to be happy and when to be sad. Not him. Not anyone. No more men. I’ll buy my own darned motorcycle. Take up skydiving to try to replace the sex.”
Another wave of nausea hit and she puked some more, and then rested her face on the cool toilet seat when she finished, thankful she had a housekeeper who kept her house spotless.
“The opposite of love is not hate. It’s indifference.” She reminded herself, and then analyzed her feelings. “Darn it. I hate him. Gonna take a while to get to indifference. I went almost straight there with Mike, why does Duke have to be so darned difficult?”
She knew she needed to brush her teeth and go back to bed, but couldn’t find it in her to move. She took her head off the toilet and curled up on her bathroom rug, thinking she’d just stay close to the toilet in case she needed to puke again.
* * * *
Duke stood outside her bathroom door and listened, but couldn’t figure out how to go to her once she’d started. He didn’t want to intrude, but her words broke his heart. He gave her a few minutes and went downstairs to get her some ice water. He wet a washcloth with cool water, and sat on the floor with her, wiping her face as he sat her up, and offered her the water.
She scrunched her face and said, “Need to brush my teeth.” Her gaze went to the vanity and he helped her stand, then stayed close while she brushed her teeth and drank some water.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“Abbott handed you off to me. I was waiting on your porch when he brought you home.”
She shook her head and then looked like she might need to run back to the toilet, but she held his gaze as she said, “You need to leave, Duke. You aren’t welcome.”
“I gave you time and space, and this is the shape you got yourself in. I’m not leaving you like this.”
Gen looked at him a while, considering, and said, “Cam introduced me to ginger tea. Would you mind making me some? It’s in the cupboard over the coffee station. Bring the water to a boil with my electric kettle, and put it in a coffee mug with a teabag.”
He nodded and she waited for him to leave, listened for the cabinet in the kitchen to close, and then made her way to her end table, grabbed her gun, and opened the wall into her safe room.
The room was designed so — once she was in and barricaded — no one could get in unless she opened the door from the inside. The alarm company would be notified when she went in, so she’d have to let them know to kill the alert to the police. She could stay in there for days if she needed. It was stocked with plenty of food and water, and even ginger to make ginger tea. There was a small bed, and a toilet. She’d be good.
The sound of the door snicking closed behind her sounded nice, and she picked up the phone inside and hit the speed dial to the alarm company.
“I’m just checking stock, no need to alert anyone.” She gave her pin number and the operator verified the police wouldn’t be called.
Gen decided she was still sleepy, so she made some ginger tea, drank it, and crawled back into bed.
When she awoke several hours later she felt much better. No headache, no nausea, and she was starving.
There was a way to check to be sure the coast was clear, but she wasn’t interested in firing up the computer and seeing what the cameras showed. She’d have to deal with Duke eventually. If he was still here she could handle him much easier today — sober and not sick — than she could’ve last night.
She ate a bowl of oatmeal, drank some coffee, brushed her teeth, cleaned up after herself since Amy didn’t know about this room, and stepped out of the safe room with another cup of coffee in her hand and her gun tucked under her arm.
“Nice.” Duke said, sitting on her sofa with the TV remote in his hand. He flicked the television off, stood, and walked to her. “How are you feeling?”