The Only Shark In The Sea (The Date Shark Series Book 3) Page 15

  Whoever Howard was, he was definitely on Vance’s watch list, but he thanked him all the same. He was turning around when the man spoke again. “Would you mind giving this to her? Or at least slipping it under her door if she doesn’t let you in? Mailman keeps mixing up our mail.”

  Vance looked at the letter and took it with a nod. “Sure, no problem.”

  The strange interaction over, Vance dashed up the stairs to Natalie’s apartment. His first instinct was to bang on the door and beg her to listen to him, but he was at least clearheaded enough to know what a terrible idea that would be. He was forced to settle for begging through the door.

  “Natalie, I’m so sorry. I had no right to grab you like that. I know you were just trying to help me,” he said. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, either. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

  He knew the chances were slim that she heard him. More likely than not she was curled up on her bed trying to block the entire day from her memory. Vance knew he couldn’t blame her if she decided she never wanted to talk to him again. He didn’t know what that would do to him, especially in the state he was in, but it would be his own fault if she cut him out of her life.

  “Natalie,” he said a little louder, “I know you don’t want to talk to me, but I hope you can hear me. You don’t have to say anything back. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am.”

  No response.

  He’d said what needed to be said, the basics anyway. Going into the details of everything that had happened while sitting in a public hallway didn’t seem like the best idea. There was so much more he needed to say to her, but not like that. Sliding down the wall, Vance put his head on his knees and wished he could take back the last hour.

  He wished he could take back a lot more than that, but Natalie’s comment earlier that day echoed in his head. There were no takebacks in real life. He’d made a mistake that hurt her, a lot. Wishing he’d been less of an idiot wasn’t going to change the fact that he was sitting in the hallway of a woman who used to be his patient but was now his friend—or maybe not even that anymore—begging her to at least listen to him through a door.

  Movement on the other side of the door snapped his head up, but the soft clicking and jingling of dog tags told him it wasn’t Natalie. “Hey there, Gypsy. Is Natalie all right?”

  Several happy barks were followed up by a not-so-menacing growl.

  “You’re mad at me too?” Vance sighed. “That’s okay. I deserve it. I wasn’t very nice to Natalie today.”

  Gypsy growled again. Claws scratched against the wooden door several times before she barked again.

  “Natalie was just being nice, and I got mad at her for it. It was stupid. I was stupid.”

  A shadow appeared at the bottom of the door and sniffing noises followed the shadow as Gypsy tried to force her face through the crack at the bottom of the door.

  “I wasn’t even that mad about her moving all of Stephanie’s stuff, not really,” Vance admitted. “I mean, I was shocked to see her ugly paintings gone from the walls and her favorite sheets and blankets stripped off the bed, but part of me was relieved too. I wasn’t ready to do it myself, but I couldn’t stand having all those reminders everywhere either. I was stuck, and Natalie somehow knew exactly what I needed.”

  Gypsy’s tongue flicked back and forth beneath the door, trying to find him. Even though Vance really hated being licked by dogs, he moved his fingers over to where the little dog was unsuccessfully trying to find him and let her lick away. If she bit him, all the better. Maybe she’d punish him in Natalie’s place.

  “The real reason I freaked out,” Vance said, his voice struggling not to break, “was because when I first woke up, the door was open and I saw someone by the bed and I…I thought it was Stephanie in the room. Not Natalie.” Betraying tears rolled down his face. He swiped them away quickly, but the hurt of that moment remained.

  “I knew, logically, that it wasn’t her, but for a minute, I don’t know, I thought maybe somehow, some part of her, had come back. It’s stupid, I know, and I don’t even know if I was hoping she would condemn me or forgive me. I was just so desperate to see her, to say I was sorry for leaving her that night…when Natalie turned around and I realized it wasn’t Steph, that the chance to make up for letting her die alone was gone along with all of her clothes and shoes…I just kind of lost it.”

  Gypsy whined behind the door and went back to licking Vance’s fingers.

  “I know, Gypsy, it was stupid. I let my own pain lash out at Natalie and hurt the one person I don’t think I can get through this without.”

  Vance’s head fell back against the door. Why did he feel that way about Natalie? He couldn’t even explain it. Maybe because she understood his pain better than anyone else. Maybe it was simpler than that. He didn’t know, and maybe he never would. All his schooling and training told him this was a mistake. Relationships built on traumatic experiences didn’t last, and expecting support from her could hurt her and hinder her progress. Vance knew all of this, but he needed her all the same. Being around her didn’t dull the pain, but she made him stronger somehow, like seeing everything she had been through and survived made him realize he could get through the pain and guilt he was drowning under too.

  Chapter 19

  The Expected Rush

  Sitting on the floor next to Gypsy, Natalie listened to everything Vance said. She couldn’t stop shaking from the aftereffects of his touch, and tears kept rolling down her cheeks no matter how many breathing or visualizing exercises she did. Vance had touched her, after promising he would never do anything to hurt her, but she couldn’t stop his words from echoing through her head.

  Guy had asked her to help Vance through this because she was the only one in town who knew everything about the circumstances surrounding Stephanie’s death. Natalie still thought she was woefully under-qualified to help him in any way, but she understood Guy’s reasoning. What she didn’t understand in the least was why Vance seemed to think she could do anything to help him.

  Hadn’t she just proven that she couldn’t? What had she been thinking packing up all of Stephanie’s belongings? It had barely been a few weeks since her death and Natalie thought she was the one to decide when it all needed to be put out of sight?

  But Vance had admitted that wasn’t what had truly set him off. They both knew, logically, that he couldn’t avoid going into the bedroom and master bath forever. She had shocked him with her actions, but the true reason he’d lashed out broke her heart. His guilt was underserved in Natalie’s eyes. She had grown to care for Stephanie, but not even a saint would have stayed with her that night after learning about the pregnancies. He blamed himself for not seeing the true source of her physical pain as well, but that wasn’t his fault either.

  His guilt was crushing him, and for that one brief moment, he’d believed he had a chance to atone, or at least take full responsibility. Then it was ripped away by the harsh reality that the woman he saw in his bedroom was just, well, Natalie. No one of consequence. No one who could ease the agony he carried close to his heart every waking moment. She couldn’t help him. Natalie had known that even as Guy was working to convince her she could. Why had she agreed to try in the first place?

  What was the other option? Let Vance wallow, alone, hurting? Natalie knew what that felt like. The scars she carried couldn’t be seen by the naked eye, but they were there all the same. It was like Vance could sense them somehow, without knowing the source. It had linked them together from that first meeting.

  Now, the link had grown stronger as Natalie realized she could now see his scars in a way no one else could. It wasn’t just because she knew what Stephanie had done to hurt him. Her insight came from knowing betrayal so deep and agonizing that it cut straight through flesh and bone, into the soul where healing was impossible, but easily recognizable to a kindred spirit.

  At that realization, her tears stopped flowing and her quivering body calmed. “I can’t let you in,” she
said barely loud enough to be heard through the door.

  The door creaked as Vance’s body seemed to sink against it. “I know. I’m not asking you to. I’ve done enough to hurt you already.”

  She wanted to tell him that he hadn’t hurt her, but the words refused to leave her mouth. Physically, his grip hadn’t even been tight enough to redden her skin. Emotionally, though, the anger behind his touch had terrified her. The touch itself…it yanked to the surface memories of the last time she had been purposefully touched by another person. By her father.

  Bile churned in her stomach at the thought of that night and the knowledge that he now knew she was in Chicago and was no doubt searching for her in order to force her to go home and face what he believed to be her crimes. Maybe if she hadn’t gotten that call from her father before…Natalie shook her head. It wouldn’t have made it any better. Not really. Sure, her reaction might not have been as strong, but nothing would have stopped her from running.

  Instead of lying to him about what his touch had done to her, Natalie gave him the only other comfort she could. “I’m not angry with you.”

  He was silent for a moment before saying, “But you’re scared of me.”

  “It’s not you,” she argued. “Not you specifically, anyway. If there’s anyone I’m not afraid of, it’s most certainly you.”

  “It used to be anyway,” he mumbled.

  Natalie sighed. “No, Vance, that hasn’t changed.”

  “But…”

  “You scared me, in that moment, but I’m not scared of you,” Natalie said.

  She felt good saying it, finally admitting that she wasn’t frightened by at least one person. Maybe he would be the only one she’d ever trust enough to say that to, but she realized she was okay with that. Her goal in calling Guy in the beginning hadn’t been to find a boyfriend. She’d just wanted to not be afraid anymore, to have at least one relationship that was semi-normal. Natalie hadn’t quite reached her goal with Vance, but it was more progress than she had made with anyone in the past seven years and she wasn’t willing to throw that all away because of one heat of the moment mistake.

  Realizing Vance had never responded to her last comment, she leaned against the door a little more and asked, “Vance, are you still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought you might have fallen asleep.”

  That idea made her bite her lip. How had Vance gotten to her apartment? Hopefully he hadn’t driven. The nap was hardly enough to shake off his hangover or make up for all the sleep he’d lost over the previous weeks. Picturing him falling asleep in her hallway tore at her and terrified her.

  “Not asleep,” Vance said, but his comment was followed up by a yawn. “Just thinking. Trying to figure out why you haven’t told me to leave you alone and why I feel better sitting here in your hall than I have the past few weeks being at home.”

  Natalie hesitated answering. She’d already crossed the line once that day and wasn’t in any hurry to do it again, but Vance’s voice pleaded for a response. Taking a deep breath, she gave him an answer. “Even without everything else that happened with Stephanie before she died, being around so many reminders of her would have been difficult. Add in everything else and it’s no wonder you needed to get away from it.”

  “Shouldn’t I want all the reminders? What does it say about me that I can’t bear to look at anything that belonged to her?”

  “It says you’re dealing with your grief in your own way, Vance. Nothing more. A lot of other people have the same reaction. Not everyone finds comfort in being surrounded by memories. Plenty of people need to escape it all, even if just for a little while, so they can deal with their emotions by themselves.” Gypsy abandoned trying to nibble Vance’s fingers under the door and jumped into her lap to snuggle. She petted her gently, but her thoughts remained on Vance. “Eventually, you’ll be ready to go through all of her things. When you are, everything is boxed up and sitting in your office. It’s not going anywhere.”

  Vance seemed startled by her words. “You didn’t get rid of it?”

  “No, of course not. I would never do something like that,” Natalie said. “I just knew you couldn’t keep living on your couch, and since you refused to go into your room with all her stuff there, I just…I thought it would be easier if I moved everything for you until you were ready to deal with it on your own.”

  “I guess I just saw everything gone, and I didn’t really think about where it went, just that it wasn’t there anymore.” He paused, silent for several seconds. “Thank you for doing that.”

  Unsure of whether he really meant that, Natalie had a difficult time responding. Instead, her thoughts returned to that mental image of Vance falling asleep against her door. Even with Stephanie’s things no longer in the bedroom or bathroom, he seemed unwilling to go home.

  Natalie didn’t fear a repeat of the touch. Despite everything, she trusted Vance. Actually having him in her apartment made her feel lightheaded, but she had managed being in Vance’s apartment earlier that day while he slept. It seemed likely to her that Vance’s exhaustion would catch up with him again quickly, but even if it didn’t, she had to be brave and strong if she ever wanted to help Vance or have a real friend.

  “I’m going to open the door,” she announced suddenly.

  The sound of her own voice uttering those words startled her, but she knew she couldn’t take them back. She refused to, no matter how scared she was of following through. Surprisingly, the objections came from Vance instead of her.

  “No,” he demanded. The sounds of harried movement were muffled, but she knew he was standing, getting ready to leave. Her response to that was unexpected.

  Stumbling up to her feet, Gypsy rolled off her lap awkwardly with an annoyed bark. “Vance, please,” she begged through the door. “Don’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  She bit her lip, hard. “Because you shouldn’t be driving, and you’re not feeling well, because you don’t want to go home yet.”

  “I’ll be fine,” he argued. “I don’t trust myself right now. If I said or did anything else to hurt you…”

  “I trust you.” Her voice was small, but strong. “Please don’t go.”

  Silence. It stretched on for what felt like an hour. “Why not?” he finally asked.

  “Because I don’t want you to.” She left it at that because the reasons behind her desire were too vast and confusing, too much to contemplate. She cared about Vance. He was hurting, and more than Guy’s request compelled her to make sure he would be all right. Being close to anyone was frightening, but being near Vance brought an unexpected comfort to balance out the fear. She felt better when she was with him, and suspected the feeling was mutual on some level.

  Fear was all she had known for the last seven years, for most of her life really. Vance’s ability to temper the effects of her past seemed reason enough to want to stay near him, but that wasn’t her biggest motivator, surprisingly enough. What pushed her to put her hand on the doorknob and slowly begin to twist was the realization that her desire to help Vance was the one thing that outweighed her fear of being hurt again.

  Vance’s expression was an almost comical mixture of shock and relief as he stood in the hallway staring at the now open door. She honestly expected some kind of praise from Vance for taking such a big step, but the first thing that blurted out of his mouth wasn’t praise at all.

  “I’m afraid to go in.” The bare, childlike honesty of his admission had a strange effect on Natalie.

  Even though she had opened the door of her own free will, a tight grip on the doorknob was the only thing keeping her hand from trembling. At least, that had been true until Vance spoke. Her trust in him had been built more on hope than anything else, but now it solidified into something more tangible and real. Vance would rather go back to the place that was slowly strangling the life from him than step into her apartment, just to make sure he didn’t hurt her again.

  Natalie’s hand fe
ll away from the doorknob and relaxed against her side. Vance was still staring at her, dumbfounded, and what she said next certainly didn’t help him out any. “Vance, I’m not worried about you touching me again, because I want it to happen. I want to be able to give you a hug when you’re having a rough day or sit next to you on the couch so you don’t feel so alone. It’s going to take me a while to work up to that, but I know you’ll help me get there, and I know you won’t push me to move faster than I’m able.”

  She stepped away from the door, leaving it open. “I’m going to start fixing dinner,” she said calmly. “When you’re ready to trust yourself as much as I trust you, just remember to shut the door behind you. My trust does not extend to my neighbors. Especially not to that weird Howard guy.”

  Turning away, she watched from the corner of her eye as Vance blinked a few times before he closed his mouth, stepped into the apartment, and shut the door behind him. Instead of panicking in the face of the expected rush of fear the situation normally would have brought, Natalie smiled.

  Chapter 20

  The Strongest

  Unsure of what had just happened, Vance stood in the entryway, unable to take another step. Had Natalie really invited him into her apartment? After he’d grabbed her and sent her running from him in fear? He didn’t understand what had changed. She almost looked relaxed as she took down several pans from her hanging rack and set them on the stove. A few minutes earlier she had refused to open the door to him, and now…

  “You aren’t allergic to shellfish, are you?” Natalie asked from the kitchen.

  Vance blinked and turned to look at her. “What?”

  “Shrimp,” she prodded. “Can you eat them?”