Takes Its Toll

by Kit Graves

  Chapter 30

  The gym Harlan had been working to open was set to start business the next morning, and Harlan and Olivia were going to the grand opening event. It was networking for him, but she knew he’d also worked hard, and she was looking forward to speaking to the people who worked with him. As much as she enjoyed John, she found she loved hearing about Harlan’s other sides: the friend, co-worker, the professional. She wasn’t quite sure of his day-to-day, but she felt he was probably a genius.

  A hot, scar-covered genius she was falling for.

  It was a strange feeling, building faster once she noticed it, like it had been waiting to be known and felt. It felt huge and shapeless, heavy and light. It was more than want. It was something else - need, and maybe more. Something she couldn't easily define.

  She watched him now, fussing with his jacket in the mirror before they left his place. She thought she knew what she was feeling, though she’d never felt it before like this. Even though it was only in its earliest rumblings, love had never come so deep and so raw before. Had never swept her over before she noticed before. Hadn’t been… real. Like this. It felt a thousand times longer than it should, that that first step into falling in love. Like the first step on that patch had taken her miles and miles.

  And maybe this wasn’t the first step, after all. Maybe it had been when he’d teased her, scooped her in his arms, ordered a second cocoa. Maybe when he’d let her pour her heart out to him, she’d left a piece of that heart with him.

  Harlan turned to smile at her, though he’d been scowling at himself only seconds before. “Ready?”

  “Ready,” she confirmed. Harlan was wearing a dark blue suit that miraculously fit him perfectly, Olivia in a dress with a complementary silver shimmer. She’d pinned her hair to the side in loose waves. Harlan reached out to touch it and had to drop his hand, laughing.

  “Looks good.”

  “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she answered, pleased.

  When they got to the venue, a trendy rooftop bar downtown, one or two heads turned before they even made it to the red ropes of the private party area. She couldn’t be sure if people were looking at her or at Harlan, but either way, she took it as a sign that they looked as good as she felt.

  “Nash!”

  Introductions flew by so quickly that Olivia couldn’t keep up. For once, Harlan wasn’t the largest or the strongest person in a group, and she marveled to see him amongst other men of his species. Still, with Harlan’s military posture and soft, dark hair, he stood out. Olivia met wives and business partners, investors and the woman in charge of marketing. She beamed when someone referred to Harlan as their secret weapon, and accepted more than one compliment about her dress and hair. She was pleased to make him look good, and though his coworkers knew Harlan’s ways already, she felt her small talk skills helped balance the their little two-person team.

  Harlan confirmed her good feeling by tugging her away after an hour or so, kissing her in a dark corner of the rooftop. He drew back after a moment, conscious not to muss her lipstick, and she smiled up at him. “Having a good time?”

  “For once I am,” he confirmed, stroking the silky-soft fabric of her dress over her hip. “With you on my arm, I’m the luckiest man in the room. And a couple guys over there have done very well for themselves.”

  She laughed again and wrapper her arms around his neck. She’d felt so… behind, for so long. Like her life had hit a hard pause and was moving along slowly again, but like she was still behind in her schooling. Behind in her life. Now she felt like an adult, finally, a grown woman with a successful relationship and her whole future ahead of her.

  Harlan slipped past the small crowd of his co-workers, and Olivia looked out over the rooftop to the street below while he fetched a new round of drinks. The lights of cars zipped back and forth, people walked by, and everywhere was the sound of conversation and laughter. Twinkle lights spread from a pergola over the bar to the far side of the main bar area, illuminating everything as if by some whimsical magic.

  It was a nice hotel, the kind she’d once been familiar with, though they’d held no joy while with Tomer. She’d be wearing something uncomfortable, usually a skintight dress and too-high heels that made her feel like stooping and tugging all night. She’d usually be numb to the glitz and glamor around her, mind numb as she stood by Tomer’s side through a thousand boring or downright disgusting conversations. Being here now, happy and appreciative, was a new and incredible experience. It was truly beautiful, with three-hundred-and-sixty degree view, and not a single person who wasn’t dressed to the nines. It was kind of a scene that Tomer would have liked, actually.

  Which made sense, as she spotted him across the roof.

  Of fucking course, she thought, suddenly furious. It was a new reaction to him, not coming instead of the fear and the dread that still filled her, but rearing up strongly anyway. Dr. Brannan had told her that Tomer might escalate, but she was sure this must be a random encounter. Tomer had always haunted the five-star nightlife, but she’d never thought she’d run into him again.

  He hadn’t seen her yet. Maybe she could just leave. That was it, she’d just grab Harlan, head out - or maybe just slip away and text him that she’d gotten sick. She could tell him the truth in the morning. She’d just -

  “Here you are.” Harlan appeared at her shoulder, two drinks in his hands. The glasses looked tiny and delicate in his huge hands, but they were steady as they were strong. She licked her lips - they’d suddenly gone dry.

  Maybe it was the flash of her copper hair. Maybe it was Harlan’s broad form cutting through the crowd. Maybe it was just Olivia’s dumb luck, again, that made Tomer look over.

  “Let’s go,” she said quickly, seeing the movement of his head. “Come on, Tomer’s here, let’s-”

  Harlan’s head swung up, eyes going first to her and then to the figure approaching. He looked startled, wild. She squeezed her eyes shut as she realized that it was happening, her worst nightmare, happening now. Her heart was pounding in her throat, her ears. Breathe, she reminded herself, picturing Dr. Brannan’s face, her yoga teacher’s, talking her through her breathing. She was frozen, wishing she could keep her eyes shut until it was over.

  The roaring in her ears subsided enough for her to notice her surroundings again. Harlan’s rage and protectiveness was washing over her in layers, equal parts comforting and nerve-wracking. He was holding himself carefully, this being a work event, but she could see the energy in his shoulders.

  Tomer was saying something.

  “-even uglier in person,” he sneered, a gimlet in his hand and a bloodred tie at his neck.

  Harlan didn’t say anything in return. His hand landed on Olivia’s back, the firm press of it a dead giveaway that he was trying to control himself. She thought of the hole in her wall, crying on her bedroom floor.

  “And Olivia, my god, every time I see you you’re slumming it worse. I always knew you were crazy, of course, but this is really just sad.”

  Harlan cleared his throat, shifting his weight. Tomer glanced at him, but he’d never been someone who’d had to fear for himself, being always so surrounded by sycophants, and somehow decided that Harlan was safe. He addressed Olivia again, who was feeling locked in place, staring at Tomer as a thousand nightmare versions of him competed with the true version in front of her. She was still so mad, but she felt like she might cry anyway, angry hot tears.

  “Good thing your family’s dead,” he confided, voice lowered to a near-whisper. He was disgustingly perfect against the soft lights, his suit fine, not a hair out of place. “They can’t see what a monster you’re with now.”

  Beside her, Harlan growled. It was low, but it filled Olivia with a dread that crowded out her anger. He could do anything, could hurt Tomer in front of everyone, could ruin his future job prospects, could blow up the tenuous peace of their relationship.

  The words “Harlan, don’t,” tumbled out of her mouth before s
he could help herself.

  “Harlan, don’t,” Tomer mocked, but Harlan’s head whipped back around to her.

  “Don’t what?” he asked, voice too-deep.

  Olivia shook her head. It was too much. She shook herself out of immobility, suddenly finding the strength to turn around. As quickly as she could walk without running, she traced her steps back to the elevator, slipping past a partygoer through the closing doors. Let it happen, then. Let them fight it out, let everything blow away. She was angry at Harlan now, too, sure he was doing something awful upstairs, sure he was going to punch Tomer into a gaping hole like the one in her wall.

  She was already in tears by the time she realized she hadn’t pressed any buttons in the elevator, and she leaned her forehead against the cool interior, wishing for a few more minutes without someone finding her.

  “Olivia.” It might have been a moment or a few minutes, but Harlan was there. In the small elevator, he filled the room, but she couldn’t sense his mood anymore. She looked up at him to search his face, and found it angry. But not just angry at Tomer. Angry… at her? He slapped a button and the elevator lurched down.

  “What?” she whispered, confused. He shook his head and paced, two steps by two steps.

  “Are you okay?” he asked first, looking her over as though assessing for another panic attack. She nodded, and his breath came out in a loud puff. “Why did you try to stop me up there?” he said next, and she almost laughed through the rolling tears.

  “Stop you? I can’t stop you. Whatever you did, I just couldn’t see it, okay?”

  “What I did? I didn’t do shit, Olivia.” The elevator dinged, and his hand slammed back into the panel, this time hitting the door close button even as she jumped. “Fuck, sorry, look, you can get out if you want to.” He hit the door open button, standing away so she could brush past him.

  It was worse outside of the elevator. They were in a small hallway off the hotel lobby, and while no one was there yet, she knew someone would come along sooner rather than later.

  Best to have it out quickly, then.

  “I’ll take a taxi home,” she told him, only wanting her bed now, wanting to be away from drama and mess and Tomer and violence forever. Maybe she could sleep for the rest of her life. In the back of her mind, she was still picturing the punch, imagining Tomer’s face exploding in red as Harlan’s fist found him. She still couldn’t believe he hadn’t done anything. Her mental image was solidly real. It seemed more likely than his not hitting Tomer, after all. She might not even blame him, but she knew Dr. Brannan would. And she just couldn’t be with someone violent again. She wouldn’t.

  “Olivia, nothing happened, I swear.”

  “How can I believe you?” she snapped, reaching for his hands and inspecting the knuckles on his hand. She was able to see that they were undamaged before he yanked his arm away.

  “See? You believe me because you trust me, Olivia, because I told you I wouldn’t do anything like that again! You can’t believe that? After everything we’ve been doing.” He sounded bitter, not surprised. Her mouth tasted awful suddenly, dry and foul.

  “I- I trust you, I just-”

  “Clearly you don’t.” And even now the anger and violence was spilling off of him like steam in the cold. Despite his words, everything about him screamed danger.

  “Well, I want to! It’s hard!” Her voice broke a little when she saw someone peek into the hallway they stood in. She shook her head, tried to control her voice before their privacy slipped away. “I want to, but I just… I just keep expecting something bad to happen, okay? Don’t act like I don’t have any reason for that. With my life, some big disaster is always around the corner. You can’t be immune to that. Tomer will never go away and I’ll always just be a loser who’s fucking broken, okay?”

  She’d never sworn so much, both in and out of her head, but she couldn’t help it now. All her poisonous thoughts were spilling out of her, until she was left gulping air. Harlan’s silver gaze had hardened, the scars pulling taught on his face as he worked his jaw. He looked like he had that first day, when he’d thought she was afraid of him, and it hurt her to see it. Something had slid shut in his eyes, and when he shook his head she couldn’t bite back a sob.

  “I see,” he said, flatly. She thought of the years he’d gone without love and saw in him what she’d seen in herself: a closing off, a protective layer. After their months of talks and touches and intimacy, it had only taken moments for his to come back, already being barricaded. “Why even bother then?”

  “Because I fucking love you!” Olivia nearly screamed it, though her voice was a ragged and broken echo of its normal volume. Harlan’s face changed again, this time in shock. He didn’t seem pleased, or more angry, just blank with shock. Behind him, the elevator dinged. A couple stumbled past them, drunkenly careening off of each other as they passed.

  It was the interruption Olivia needed. After so much doubt and fear and panic and confrontation, she simply hit her limit. Swallowing bile at Harlan’s blank, blank expression, she turned, and stumbled, and ran.

  Chapter 31

  Olivia couldn't stop crying, but her tears had changed. In the tangled trauma of seeing Tomer, she'd entirely overreacted, lashing out at the man on her side instead of the one who had made her miserable.

  I'm just a stupid drama queen, she thought furiously, Just like Tomer always said.

  And worst of all, she'd doubted Harlan. Harlan. And she'd thrown that doubt in his face. She'd treated him like the violent monster that he'd worked so hard not to be, and she hated herself for it.

  She'd only made it to the corner of the block before her tears had blinded her, and she stopped to get her bearings. She'd just have to go back and apologize. Beg, if necessary. It was the first time she'd seen him and flinched all over again, but this time she'd truly wronged him. And the way she'd thrown her love at him like a weapon made her burn with shame.

  I don't deserve him, she thought, realizing he was probably just grabbing their coats before chasing her down. She'd just have to face what she'd done, face whatever he would say to her, face life without him now.

  That thought stabbed her through the heart again. How had she screwed everything up so fast? It felt like she was sliding into a fresh panic attack, some invisible force squeezing slowly all around her.

  But it wasn’t an invisible force. It was a hand, vice-like on the back of her neck.

  “That was hilarious,” Tomer said, conversationally. “And now you’re outside on the curb like a piece of trash? Honestly, it’s just perfect.”

  Shut up, she tried to say, but she choked, too taken aback by his appearance. “W-w-”

  “W-w-whaaaaat?” he mocked, pinching tighter on her neck and pulling her toward him until he could yank her up the sidewalk. He was always at his worst while drinking, and some nights his drunkenness was covered by other drugs, everything evening out into one awful cocktail of unpredictability. “Honestly, were you always this stupid?” Up close, he definitely reeked of alcohol, and Olivia did her best to dig her heels into the cement ground, yank her head back away from him. His fingers just closed in her hair, and she could hear herself make a sound of pain involuntarily, her spike of resistance starting to disappear. The cold, dark mindset she’d always gone to with Tomer was sliding up around her, freezing her in place. Dr. Brannan had called it dissociation. She didn’t have any words for it: she didn’t have any words.

  In her beautiful high heels, with her tight, gorgeous dress, Olivia had to stumble forward or fall. She couldn’t see through the hair now tangled around her face, fisted in Tomer’s fist. Everything she saw was half-hidden by a screen of copper hair, half-blurred from the tears in her eyes. Tomer shoved her forward suddenly, and she stumbled, striking her hip on something before she realized he’d pushed her into his car. Immediately she raked her hair out of her eyes, scrambling upward to escape, but Tomer had already locked her in and was jumping into the driver’s seat.

&
nbsp; Tomer, no, you’re drunk, stop, let me out, please let me out, she screamed in her mind, but all she could do was stare at him gutlessly, panic setting in worse than ever before. Every awful moment that he’d made her feel voiceless, made her be voiceless, was sealing her lips and her throat and her eyes with blind fear. He grinned at her, his face lean and handsome and horrible, and started the car.

  Olivia tried to reach for the keys as soon as the engine roared to life. She knew nothing good could come of leaving with Tomer. Was this what Dr. Brannan meant by escalation? She thought he’d wildly underestimated things. Because when she reached for the key, Tomer’s arm smacked out, knocking her roughly back into the seat. He half-turned to slap her hard, a stinging strike that caused her nose to roar with pain and her eyes to water even beyond their tears. She choked on a cry, cringing back toward the door on her side of the car.

  He’s going to kill me, she thought, grim. He’s going to kill me and Harlan will think I just left town and all I can hope is that Tomer will kill himself too. She was crying again, silent tears streaming over her burning nose and into her torn and tangled hair.

  “Try anything like that again and I’ll crash this fucking car,” he said, eyes locked on her with a hatred that terrified her. She’d thought he’d loved her once, but he’d only wanted a plaything, and now she realized how he despised her for getting away. It was obvious as he stared at her now, no humor in his cold, beautiful eyes. “And you can join your stupid fucking family, for once and for all.”

  Chapter 32

  Olivia was still frozen in silence, her thoughts racing too fast to corral. This was a nightmare, right? It was a nightmare she couldn’t even have imagined, and it didn’t feel far off from the dark horrors that haunted her sleeping mind. And yet this felt too real, too immediate. Too Tomer. She never could have imagined the horrible words he’d said, the threats he’d given this time.

  This time he’d gone too far.