The Only Shark In The Sea (The Date Shark Series Book 3) Page 17

  A small moment of panic gripped her at the sight of him lying so peacefully on her couch, but it faded quickly. Surprised by that, Natalie tried desperately to hold onto the feeling as she stepped closer and carefully lifted the blanket and set it across his body. One corner, the one nearest her, had folded up and was exposing his forearm. Wanting as much of him covered as possible, Natalie’s heart rate spiked as she reached down to gingerly lift the corner of the blanket and straighten it out.

  She had just started to pull her hand away when he shifted and his fingers brushed against her hand. Freezing, Natalie waited for the panic to hit her. It was normally such a sure thing. It never came. Her level of discomfort with the situation was high to begin with, but even a glancing touch like that would normally have terrified her.

  Not this time.

  Pulling her hand back and staring at it, she almost could have sworn his touch caused some sort of physical reaction. Where he touched her seemed warmer somehow, as if it had been cold for so long that even that slight brushing of skin against skin revived some small amount of life. It was startling, and somewhat frightening, but she didn’t jump away like she might have usually done.

  Experimenting with a second touch was simply not going to happen. Grabbing her blanket and curling up on the loveseat that sat at an angle to the couch was slightly more acceptable. It was strange being so physically close to another person without being forced into it. Not bad, but not good either. Natalie curled up under her blanket and sat staring at Vance until she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.

  ***

  Waking up with a jolt, only the stiffness in her body prevented her from leaping off the loveseat. Vance was directly in her sights, still asleep and unaware of her abrupt waking. Soft, early morning light filtered in through the blinds and Natalie dove for her phone in a panic. Finding it lifeless, she clambered up off the loveseat and into the kitchen in search of a clock.

  Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw that she would normally have left for work half an hour ago. A dozen thoughts all tumbled through her mind in that moment ranging from how fast she could get ready, to what to do about Vance, to finally remembering that her boss had given her the okay to take time off.

  Even remembering that, Natalie hesitated. Taking the day off meant spending it with Vance. Not because he would expect it or insist, but because he needed someone with him. Wildly uncertain that was wise, it almost sent Natalie sprinting to her bedroom to dress, just to escape the responsibility. An entire day with another person. It was unthinkable.

  Then everything from the previous night slowly rolled back to the front of her mind and her racing thoughts and heart began to calm. Instead of running, she walked quietly over to her laptop and opened the top. The email was sent a few minutes later, and she was about to close it when a response popped up almost automatically. Curious, she opened it and read.

  Glad to hear you’re taking some time off. It’s well overdue and it sounds like your friend could use the support. I know you only asked for today, but I don’t want to see you back here until Monday. I know you have more than enough leave stored up and the project you’re working on isn’t up for review for another three weeks. Take the time.

  Donald

  Natalie’s response was short and quickly typed.

  Are you sure?

  Her boss’s response was equally brief.

  Yes.

  That seemed to be the end of it. It was only Wednesday. He wanted her to stay away from work until Monday? What was she supposed to do with herself for five days? The last seven years of her life had been nonstop school or work. Her only reprieve was hiding out in her apartment with Gypsy. Not only was she overwhelmed by the idea of having that much time to herself, there was still Vance to consider. What on earth was she supposed to do with him?

  “Natalie?”

  His voice treading so closely behind her thoughts startled a gasp from her as she spun around to face him. Holding up his hands, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just woke up…here. In your apartment.”

  He seemed confused by that. Not that Natalie could blame him. “You fell asleep last night and I…” She bit her lip before admitting to that brief encounter while covering him with the blanket and the way it had affected her.

  “And you felt bad waking me and asking me to leave,” Vance finished with a sigh. His embarrassed and regretful expression said more than his words and Natalie felt compelled to correct him.

  “I wasn’t going to ask you to leave,” she said as she wrapped her arms around her middle to calm the strange, unsettling feeling of nerves in her stomach.

  Vance didn’t seem to believe her, but he shrugged it off and ran a hand through his unkempt hair. Touching his hair seemed to make him take stock of his appearance. He grimaced. “I should go home. Put on something more presentable.”

  “Why don’t I make us some breakfast first?” Natalie offered. She wasn’t sure she could keep anything down with how unstable her stomach felt in that moment, but she was determined to keep Vance from slipping back into his drunken stupor no matter how far outside her comfort zone she had to stretch.

  Looking at the light coming in through the windows, he frowned. “Don’t you need to get to work?”

  Admitting the truth made her squirm, but she wasn’t capable of coming up with a believable alternative on the spot and caved. “I’m off until Monday, actually. My boss insisted.”

  His confusion deepened, but he didn’t argue with her. She wasn’t sure if that was because he didn’t think it was his place to argue, or if he really just didn’t want to be alone. “Breakfast would be great,” he finally said.

  Breathing out a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to explain her time off in any more detail, Natalie actually began to relax. The hint of a smile even made its way to her lips. “Are blueberry crepes okay?”

  “Perfect,” Vance replied with a smile of his own.

  He didn’t offer to help with breakfast, which Natalie greatly appreciated. Having him in such close quarters would not have been something she could have handled along with everything else. As exhausted as he still was, she wasn’t surprised to find him dozing on the couch again after she set the plates on the dining table and went to let him know the food was ready.

  “Vance,” she called lightly from the edge of the living room.

  He woke immediately and shook his head. “Sorry.”

  “You’re fine, really,” she assured him. “Breakfast is ready whenever you are.”

  She turned and stepped back into the kitchen for silverware and juice, leaving him to take a few minutes to wake back up. By the time she returned, he was seated at the dining table and less bleary-eyed than before. His hair and rumpled clothes would need to be addressed at some point, but Natalie decided to leave the issue alone until he was ready to discuss it.

  A heavy dose of anxiety hit her as she gripped the back of her chair. Sitting down with him at the table was no closer than they had been at the diner the night Stephanie died, but this time they were alone. Vance said nothing. The patience she was used to seeing from him had once again settled on his shoulders and he gave her as long as she needed to talk herself into taking her seat.

  Natalie knew she kept him waiting way longer than she should have, but she was eventually able to pull out the chair and sit. Once she had actually taken the step, she sighed in relief that her newfound strength from the night before hadn’t vanished before she was able to make use of it. Following her sigh was the soft clinking of silverware against plates as they both started in on their meal.

  It was a long while later when Vance pushed his plate aside and set the envelope between them. Natalie tensed up at the mere sight of it and pushed the last few bites of her food away. Her appetite had vanished. Almost accusingly, her eyes snapped up to Vance’s.

  “What are you going to do about this?” he asked.

  Burn it, was the response she wanted to give, but
part of her feared ignoring whatever the letter contained. For once, it wasn’t about a need to obey her father. It was fear that she might miss a warning of some kind. Her fingers curled in on themselves at the thought of touching the letter—something his hands had also touched—but she knew it would be a mistake to throw it away.

  “I hate the thought of touching it,” she admitted, “but I need to know what he wrote.”

  Vance slid the letter closer to her and took his hand away. “You don’t have to tell me what it says. I just want to know whether or not you’re in danger.”

  Nodding slowly, Natalie willed her fingers to stretch out and take it. They weren’t interested in obeying at the moment. Noticing her hesitation, Vance reached forward, broke the seal, and extracted the letter. He didn’t try to peek at its contents. He merely pushed the single sheet of paper closer to her and withdrew his hand.

  Free of the envelope, the tri-folded paper expanded, the top fold lifting upward like an invitation. The last thing Natalie wanted was to be in communication with her father in any form, but she had to know if he was coming for her. She doubted there would be any direct timeline, but she couldn’t resist the need to protect herself. Lifting the edges of the paper with just her fingertips, she held it open and read.

  If you think ignoring this will make it go away you have clearly forgotten the kind of man I am. I have attempted civility with you and have failed to make you see reason. You were taught to face your mistakes and not hide from the consequences. The shame you have caused our family can never be erased, but returning to face punishment will be the first step. This is your final warning. Do not make me force the issue, Clara. It won’t end well.

  He didn’t sign it. There was no need. She had heard similar speeches from him so many times, there was no mistaking that the letter and the threats it contained were from her father. Numb, she released the paper and let it fall back to its half-open, half-closed position and crumpled against her chair.

  “He’ll come for me,” she said. The lifelessness in her voice scared her. It was so very familiar. The days and weeks after first running away flooded back in, carrying with them the crushing sense of defeat and worthlessness her parents had instilled in her.

  She looked back down at the paper only to find it gone. Her gaze travelled up to Vance where he sat reading the letter. Even though she supposed she should have been upset he’d taken it without her permission, she couldn’t stir up enough emotion to care. How long did she have before her father claimed her?

  Vance dropped the letter and fished around for something before jumping up from the table and disappearing into the living room. A small hint of curiosity worked its way past her numbness and she found herself leaning in her chair just enough to see Vance checking the cushions of the couch for something. Only when he finally pulled his phone out from between two cushions did Natalie snap out of her daze.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  Ignoring her protests, he dialed a number and held the phone to his ear. Vance’s eyes leveled at her as she rushed toward him, but he knew she wouldn’t stop him. Stopping him would require getting close enough to grab the phone, which might mean touching him. Despite her strange reaction to that accidental contact the night before, he knew she was at his mercy and so did she.

  Anger pulled her hands into fists as she was forced to listen to the conversation from a safe distance. The night Stephanie died, Vance had mentioned having friends in the police department. The claim proved true as he spilled the details of her father’s threats to whoever was on the other end of the call. Sick at the thought of having to explain the letter, and livid at Vance for putting her in that situation, she lost it as soon as he ended the call.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she shrieked. She didn’t think she had ever yelled at someone like that before, but the novelty didn’t hold her back. “I told you I didn’t want to go to the police! There’s nothing they can do. Nothing! They’ll never take this seriously just on my say so, and they might make things worse if my father finds out. How could you? Why would you do that to me? I trusted you!”

  If Natalie was expecting any sort of apology, she was sure to be disappointed. Anger flashed in Vance’s eyes to match hers and he took two steps toward her. “One phone call, maybe that wouldn’t have been enough, but that letter,” he said, jamming a finger back at where it lay on the table, “is full of real threats! You can’t just sit here and wait for him to come after you! I won’t let you.”

  “Let me?” She threw up her hands in utter aggravation. “How do you intend to stop me? Not that I plan on letting him do anything more to me than he’s already done, but what exactly is your plan? What are the police going to do to protect me, Vance? What?”

  “I don’t know!” he shouted. “But knowing there’s a threat so they can protect you is better than being blindsided when something happens.”

  Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms around her body and paced back and forth. The movement was doing nothing to calm her quickly mounting hysteria but she didn’t know what else to do. “They’ll want to know. They’ll want to know why,” she muttered as she paced. “The questions…they’ll expect answers…want to know the truth, and I can’t…I can’t.”

  “You have to,” Vance demanded. He threw up his hands and stared at her when she started shaking her head.

  Shocked by his behavior after so much patience and understanding, her pacing stuttered and she stopped, staring at him in disbelief. “I have to?” Had he really just said that? Tears flooded her eyes, but her fury and disappointment refused to let them fall. “You promised me, Vance. You promised.”

  Vance’s shoulders dropped, but not with guilt. “Please,” he pleaded. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

  “Why not?” It was a demand. Hands on her hips, she was so infuriated she marched two steps forward. Vance’s eyes widened as they stood a mere two feet apart, but Natalie still wanted an answer. “Why do you care so much about what happens to me?”

  “I…because…it’s,” he stumbled. The tension drained out of his body and his head dropped. “Because I’m selfish, for one, and I need you, but…even if that weren’t true, I care about you too much to stand by and watch someone hurt you. I can’t really explain why. I thought maybe it was just because you were my patient and I wanted so badly to help you, but when you told me Guy had referred you out, it only got worse. You can’t vanish from my life. I can’t lose you like I did Steph. Please, Natalie, I can’t face that again.”

  Layer by layer, Natalie’s anger and disbelief lessened. She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t disappear. Not wanting to lie to him held her back because that was her biggest fear in that moment. Even still, she looked up, ready to reassure him, and suddenly realized how close they were standing. Shock rooted her in place. How had they ended up within arm’s length of each other? It was the first thought that ran through her mind, but it was quickly pushed aside by another.

  Why can’t I look away from him? It seemed like a ridiculous thing to happen right then, let alone the most prevalent thought in her head. Looking away was impossible. The hazy green of his eyes caught her focus with the pain they were holding. They had changed so much from the warmth and compassion she was used to seeing in them. Fear, hurt, and desperation dominated now. He broke down her defenses, but she still didn’t know if she could do what he was asking.

  Several short buzzes from the phone still in Vance’s hand finally drew his eyes downward. A few seconds later his eyes met hers again. “It’s my friend, Detective Morrow. He needs to be let in.” Vance paused, his hand twitching nervously at his side. “You’ll need to give me your code to pass on to him, or your key. I’ll need the key because I know you’ll lock the door as soon as I leave and I don’t want to make you open the door to Morrow by yourself.”

  Handing over a key meant she couldn’t take the coward’s way out and simply lock the door after he left so he couldn’t get
back in and make her talk to the detective. The trembling started in her fingers and quickly worked its way through her entire body. Be strong, she chanted to herself. Her keys were on the breakfast bar to her left, within reach. He could have already taken them and run down to meet his friend, but he asked her instead.

  Her arms felt robotic as she stretched out and retrieved the keys. They both seemed to hold their breath as her hand slowly inched toward him. Keys held tightly in one fist, she held them in a stranglehold without letting go. The stalemate seemed as if it would go on forever, but before she could react, Vance leaned in close and asked, “Is trusting me still worth the risk?”

  Part of her wanted to scream “No,” but no matter how hard she tried to tell herself she was better off running and hiding, her trust in him was not easy to douse. Sighing, and still terrified, she relaxed her grip on the keys and gave him the code. The thank you he whispered before darting out of the apartment echoed off her bones and slipped up next to her heart like she’d always imagined a real hug would feel like.

  Chapter 22

  The Expression

  Vance’s head was spinning for half a dozen reasons by the time he made it to the lobby. He had spent the night in Natalie’s apartment. That was bizarre enough to occupy his mind, but then he considered how close she had come to him, her mellowing fear around him, and even the trust she still had in him despite everything he had done to push her away in the last day. Especially what he had just done.

  Part of him felt horrible for forcing her to reveal her secrets when he had explicitly promised he would never do something so hurtful. Another part of him simply didn’t care. The risk was too huge. He feared hearing the reason behind her father’s threats, but his fear didn’t stem from Natalie not being believed. An eighteen-year-old girl with nothing didn’t run from her parents and spend seven years never touching another human being if she didn’t have a good reason for it.