Out of the Storm(25)

If she didn't do it on purpose, if he is there and I go back, I'm screwed. This whole thing is blown for me. There's no way I can do that. 

Shit. Skatá. Shit

What do I do? It's not like I can call her back. Can I?

That would totally mess things up if she's with Charlie. At least I'm not listed as me in her phone. And if she's playing me, working with him, then he will already know about my contact in her phone, so there's nothing to lose.

I dial her number, but I don't press send yet. Maybe she'll call me back. I should just act cool for a few minutes, right? Fuck no. Someone could be really, legit kidnapping her, and her cell may be my only hope.

Pressing send, it starts to ring. That's a good sign. At least it's still on. It rings, and rings, and rings. C'mon, Jules. Answer the phone. It's not like I can exactly leave a voice mail for you. Pick up the damn phone.

Luckily, I'd not made it far on my way home, and because it's so late, there is no traffic. I know some shortcuts to get to her place, so I drive as quickly as I can to get there.

When the voice mail comes on, I hang up. Should I try again? What if she didn't answer because she's with Charlie? What if she didn't answer because she can't? This is driving me fucking insane.

One more time. I press send again.

It goes straight to voice mail this time. Shit.



Five minutes later, and I've parked about a block away. I run to her building. It's reckless, stupid, likely too late to help her if she's in trouble, but I have to find out what the fuck is going on. If I bump into Charlie, I'll just make up some excuse about how I run around town at midnight for exercise, pat him on his beer gut, and tell him he should try it sometime.

Of course, I have no fucking clue what I'll say if he sees me in her building. Unless I tell him I live there. I shrug. I could get an apartment there. Fake office, fake apartment. It would sure as hell be more convenient.

Instead of going to the front of the building, I go to the parking garage. She and I sure are spending a lot of time in those. And elevators. It makes me smile. Until the image of the bástardos groping her flashes in my mind. If he did something to her, had someone attack her, I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to keep myself from killing him.

When I get to the elevator, I press the button for up, and watch the numbers as I jog in place, hoping it will help me with the adrenaline coursing through my blood. But it's been on floor six since I walked up, and it isn't moving. Glancing at my watch, I count the seconds. After a minute, I shake my head. That's not right. Elevators don't stop for a minute on a floor. Not without sounding an alarm. But they will stop for a minute if someone pulled the fucking stop button. I know all about that. Been there done that.

Glancing behind me, I see the entrance for the stairs, and I pull it open. Taking them two at a time, I'm thankful for being in shape. I bet that fucker fiancé of hers couldn't do this. I don't expect anyone to be in a stairwell this time of night, but then again, the elevator is apparently stalled. I jump to the side and nod at the dude. He looks like he works out, but he's not dressed like he was prepared to take the steps. "Sorry about that."

He grumbles something and passes by me.

When I get to the top, I'm thankful there's a window in the stairwell because the last thing I need to do is walk into a mess. There's no one in the hall, so I walk to the elevator. It's moving again. Did I jump to conclusions?

It stops on the eighth floor. I decide to go to that floor and see if I can see her, but there's no point. By the time I get up there, she'll be long gone into her apartment. And if Charlie is here, I need to get out of this building.



       
         
       
        

Running my hands through my hair, I exhale. Maybe I'm just so fucking tired I'm losing my damn mind. Turning, I descend the stairs one at a time, defeated. Without knowing her floor or her apartment number and with her ignoring my calls, there's nothing else I can do.

And what screws with me more than feeling so helpless is that I'm not even sure she wants my help at all.





I'm left in the elevator, completely speechless, completely in shock. What the actual fuck?

Pressing the button for my floor, I reach down and pick up my things, then I cover my body with my arms. When it dings for my floor, I exit and walk to my door.

I don't even feel safe in my own building, at work, anywhere. Putting the key into my door, I pause before I turn it. I'm not prepared for Charlie to be on the other side. Maybe I should just go to my parents like Theo mentioned. Theo. What is he thinking at this point having heard all that? And I'm afraid to take my phone out to talk to him for fear Charlie is here.

The thought of being able to snuggle in my bed, though, wins as fatigue settles into every muscle in my body.

Turning the key, I open the door. The lamp I leave on in the kitchen is still illuminated. Nothing has changed. Everything looks like it did when I left it this morning. Like nothing in my life has changed when everything actually has.

Closing the door quickly, I lock it, wishing I had more than just a deadbolt. If it were up to me, I'd have about five locks. And Charlie wouldn't have a key to any of them.

I glance down at my feet and smile, kicking off my ugly ass shoes. Theo. I need to pull my phone out, but before I do, I remember his comment to watch my front, back, and sides. I imagine if he were in here, he'd want me to check all the rooms. So, that's what I do. But even though I have no reason to believe no one has been here, that there's not a soul in my place other than me, my heart beats erratically.

Flipping the lights on in each room as I clear them, I find myself holding my breath during that split second when it goes from blackness to full color.

With each one, everything is fine. But what about the closets? I watch too many psycho-killer movies disguised as chick flicks. That's all this is. Paranoia. Who wouldn't be worried after the day I've had?

Walking to my room, I toss my purse on the bed, then I unzip my dress, let it puddle on the floor, and climb in my bed. "MG, are you listening? Did you hear each notch unzip? Did you hear the fabric fall? Do you remember what's underneath it?"

My lips form a smile. I love teasing him. It's going to become one of my favorite pastimes, favorite hobbies. Never have I felt so sexy undressing as I do right now.

Pulling the covers back on my bed, I climb in and grab my purse, taking the phone out. 

When I press the unlock it so I can turn up the volume, I realize the call has ended. The. Call. Has. Ended.

My brows furrow. How can this be? Why would he let me go? Oh God. He heard everything in the elevator. Or did he? Did he hang up before I even got in there, and that's why he didn't come to my rescue, not that I needed saving this time?

I swipe to open his contact. Remembering our conversation on the subway about nicknames makes me smile. It shows MG. My mystery giant. Still making me lose my mind with questions.

I hit the green phone button. It dials.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he says.

"Not exactly the hello I was expecting. Why'd you hang up on me?"

"You hung up on me, Jules. One minute I heard you, and the next you were gone."

Shaking my head, my heart sinks. "I didn't, though. I swear, I didn't. You have to believe me."

"Whatever."

"Theo."

"What?"

"Where are you?"

"Walking back to my car."

My brows furrow. "Where are you going?"

"Home. Fucking finally."

I swallow. He sounds so cold, so pissed, so untrusting. "Where have you been?"

"Looking for you, but I'm done now. You're clearly fine, so you don't need me."

"I'm not fine, Theo. I'm exhausted and scared. The only time I'm not either of those is when I'm talking to you or when I'm with you."

He sighs.

"Come back to me."

"No."

"Please." I let my free hand wander down my stomach to my core. "I'm not wearing any clothes, Theo. And I may or may not be touching myself, thinking about you. Come back to me."

He sucks in a breath. "I can't come to you, Jules. I'm not sure what the hell you're thinking. Did you not tell me earlier your fucking fiancé has a key and drops by whenever he feels like it?"

"We can wedge a chair in front of the door or something."

He chuckles. "Because that won't be suspicious, and because chairs are so sturdy they can keep even an out of shape asshole out."

I let my finger stroke my clit, my breathing increases. "I want you. I need you. You. Are you to your car yet, Theo? Or are you coming back?"

"Almost to my car. I'm not coming back to you tonight, Jules. No matter how much you beg or try to seduce me. I'm a lot of things, but stupid isn't one of them."

"When you get to your car, will you touch yourself?"

He breathes into the phone. "Maybe."

"I've never done this before. You know, the whole phone sex thing, and I'd much rather do the real deed with you, but you're stubborn."

He laughs. "You're stubborn."

"I am. But you are too. We make quite a team. We are a team still, aren't we?"

The car door closes, and I as wait to hear what he is going to say back, my hand stills. "What are you doing to your pretty little body right now?"

"Nothing. I'm waiting for you to answer my question first. Do you trust me? Because I trust you, Theo. You're the only one I can say that about."