Jack saluted me and headed out the door.
I turned back to my work, saw that the money transfer had gone through—and then my phone rang.
Trudie.
I answered it immediately. Had she decided she didn’t want the money? Was she unavailable to meet my parents when they got here on Saturday? Was…
“Hello?” That wasn’t Trudie. That was Edith, the woman I had briefly met when I had picked Trudie up to go to the airport. “I’m sorry, but this is Laird, right? Trudie’s friend?”
“Yes, yeah, that’s me.” I stood up from my chair and closed my laptop. “Is everything all right? Is Trudie okay?”
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Edith went on. “But this was the only number in Trudie’s phone besides work and my cell. I thought… well, poor thing won’t get out of bed. She’s been terrified. She called off work and she’s not talking or reacting. I think she’s having some kind of panic attack or something. Do you think you could—”
“I’ll be right there,” I promised, already heading out of my office.
There were at least a couple of traffic laws that I broke driving to Trudie’s co-op, but I didn’t care. If a cop pulled me over I’d just throw a ton of cash at them and keep driving. Trudie was having some kind of panic attack? What had happened? Was this something to do with her past, the part that she wouldn’t talk to me about?
There was something that had made her so timid, some heavy part of her past that she hadn’t discussed with me. I trusted her, and I had never pushed, but it was easy to tell from her behavior, at least in the beginning, that there was something up with her.
Had this part of her past caught up with her?
When I got to the co-op, Edith was waiting for me. “She’s upstairs in her room, if you’ll follow me.”
The room itself was not just Trudie’s room, obviously. It belonged to about a dozen people, each with their own bed and own dresser. It all looked depressingly the same, although it was neat and clean, and I knew even more now why Trudie hadn’t wanted me to stop by. Compared to my large, open-plan apartment, this place had nothing of Trudie’s individuality, no privacy, nothing really to call her own.
“She’s on her bed,” Edith explained. “I asked the other girls to stay out and give her some privacy. I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen if you need me.”
I thanked her, and walked up to the bed.
Ach, my poor love. She was curled up under a blanket, eyes staring straight ahead. When I got closer, I could see that she was trembling minutely, like she was freezing cold and couldn’t stop, even though she had to be warm underneath those blankets.
I sat down next to her and laid my hand on her hair. “Hello, love,” I said soothingly.
No matter what was wrong, I was going to figure it out, and I was going to fix it. I was going to help her to get better.
27
Trudie
The first few days I’d been back home had been all right. I’d been conflicted after Laird had dropped me off, but I hadn’t been… unhappy, exactly. Just frustrated with myself and confused, wondering what I should do next. I missed Laird terribly, only realizing once he was gone how much he had become a part of my life. I wanted to be with him, to spend time with him. I wanted to fall asleep in his apartment, not here in this place that no longer felt like home.
Edith had noticed, of course, but I had managed to avoid talking to her about it. I hadn’t told her about my deal with Laird, and I didn’t know how to begin to explain. Red was obviously dying of curiosity as well, but he was smart enough not to ask me how things had gone on the trip.
I just didn’t know what to do. I saw the money appear in my account and on the one hand I was relieved, I was ecstatic, but on the other hand—it meant that it was the end. Our business transaction had ended. There was no reason for me to see him again.
When I got back from a morning walk, trying to clear my head, I found Edith waiting for me. She looked concerned. “Trudie, do you have a moment?”
I ignored the other girls who glanced over with curiosity, and nodded, letting Edith lead me into her office. “I don’t want to say this in front of everyone, but I will be putting up a reminder on the cork board that nobody is to give out any information about any other member of the co-op if someone asks.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that a man stopped by this morning, asking for you,” Edith explained. “I didn’t like the look of him and I’m not about to say who does and doesn’t live here, so I didn’t tell him anything. But you need to be careful. Someone’s looking for you. Are you all right? Are you in any danger?”
I wanted to respond, but fear locked up inside of me so tightly that I felt like I was frozen. I could hardly breathe. “I… I’m… did he give his name?”
“No,” Edith replied. “But I can describe him.”
I nodded, hoping against hope that it was Jack or Red who had been looking for me, or maybe even Liam. Liam wasn’t supposed to even be in town, and if he had been here it meant that he’d figured out Laird and I had lied to him, but I would rather deal with that than have it be who I feared it was.
“He was thin,” Edith said. “And very tan, with sort of… hair like straw.”
Fuck. My legs felt numb. “Oh,” I managed, my voice coming out a bit faint.
Edith stared at me, concerned, her eyebrows drawing together. “Are you all right, honey?”
“I…” I was so scared, I had gotten used to not feeling scared and now I was feeling terribly, terribly scared. That was Pete, that was what he looked like. I didn’t know how he had found me after I’d been so careful to cover up my tracks, but he had, and I didn’t know what to do now. Could I run again? But what if he only found me a second time? How far would I have to run before he gave up? What if he never gave up?
Maybe—it was a crazy thought but maybe—I should’ve stayed in Ireland and eventually applied for a visa there. Maybe I should’ve just hopped across Europe, across the whole world, staying in a place only long enough to have a job that got me enough money to move onto the next city. Maybe I had been complacent. After all, it wasn’t paranoia if someone was really after you.
“I… please don’t let him in,” I said faintly. I felt cold all over. “I’m going to go lie down.”
Edith called after me, sounding alarmed, but I didn’t know how to answer her. I just couldn’t. If I started to try and tell her I would break down and I couldn’t break down. I just couldn’t break down.
I curled up in bed, pulling the covers up and over. I felt like I was in a safe little cocoon. I knew I had to leave. I had to pack my things immediately and get out of here. But even though I didn’t want to live in a co-op forever, I didn’t want to just up and leave. Chicago had become my home. I had people here that I cared about, people I would never be able to see or talk to again if I left.
Why did he have to come and ruin everything? Why did he have to be like this? Did he get off on the power of it? For a moment I wished that he would find some other person to fixate on instead—and then I was horrified at myself for wishing such a thing onto someone else. Nobody deserved to be treated the way that Pete had treated me.
That was, I was pretty sure, around the time I started crying. I felt like I was in some kind of stupor. I cried and cried like I hadn’t done in… I couldn’t even remember when. By the time I finished I felt like everything that I was, all of my emotions, had been drained out of me and I was just this… limp rag doll that someone had kicked and kicked until all the stuffing had gone out of her.
I was floating somewhere between asleep and awake, wishing for the former but unable to get to it, when I heard a voice. It was slow and soothing, and at first, I honestly didn’t recognize it. I was just drifting, and I let it wash over me like warm water in a jacuzzi. I had no idea how long it went on. At first I could get nothing, understand nothing. It was just the sound of the voice that was so nice and soothing, so relaxing, slowly getting
rid of the paralyzed feeling in my brain.
Then I began to not just hear but understand, to know the words. It took me another moment to really believe them, because they weren’t what I’d expected. I’d thought I’d hear words of encouragement, words of reassurance. Instead…
“So that’s why it’s really important to slow roast the first time…”
…instead I was getting a lecture on coffee.
“What the fuck?” I blurted out.
I sat up, blankets still wrapped tightly around me, to see Laird sitting on the side of the bed, smiling softly at me. “Hey,” he said, his hand landing on my knee. “You’re back.”
“You’re talking to me about coffee!? Seriously? That’s what you decided—I’m telling Liam about this. I’m never letting you live this down. Coffee!?”
Laird spluttered. “I figured you would need something to distract you from whatever was upsetting you! It was the first thing I could think of, and it’s… you know it’s something I can talk about for hours.”
“Yeah, you sure can, apparently,” I grumbled.
“I can talk about Irish whisky. Or what it’s like to be an altar boy. Bloody boring stuff.” Laird smiled at me, but very softly and carefully, less enthusiastically and freely than usual. “Do you want me to get you anything to eat? Or just some water? I feel like maybe alcohol isn’t the best bet right now.”
I couldn’t resist smiling back at him. Laird just had that effect on me, even right now when I was in possibly my worst moment.
Laird squeezed my knee. “Seriously, love. What’s wrong? You shut down for a little bit there.”
I had read about that online, in the forums that I frequented. Other abuse survivors called it different things, such as “freezing” or “shutting down.” I wasn’t sure exactly why I shut down like this instead of doing something more useful, like fleeing or even just staying and fighting, whatever that looked like, but… this was my reaction.
“Um. Yes.” I took a few deep breaths. “I can’t be here, I’m sorry. I can’t be here.” I probably shouldn’t even be in Chicago anymore, but I meant, in that moment, the co-op. What if Pete stopped by again while I was still here? What if he tried to barge his way in? Sure, legally he’d be in trouble because Edith would call the cops on his ass but that wouldn’t help me if he had already beaten me or dragged me off or… something. I couldn’t even think what.
“You can’t be here,” Laird repeated slowly, like he was sorting through what that meant. “All right. Well, would you like to go back to my place, then? Would you feel better there?”
I thought about it. Laird’s apartment complex had a doorman, and while I didn’t know the details, I did know that it had security features around, like cameras and that sort of thing. The co-op only had Edith. With so many people sharing the space and so little privacy already, she didn’t want anyone to feel like they were being spied on or like their privacy was being taken. We all looked out for each other, but I’d rather actual security over actual people who didn’t deserve to become the victims of Pete’s wrath as he tried to get to me.
“Yes.” I nodded. “I—I’d feel a lot better, please, if we were at your place.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” Laird promised me. “Here, let’s get all your stuff together. You can stay with me as long as you need.”
I was surprised. “Um… wow. Thank you, you don’t…”
“Have to? Trudie, I want to.” Laird gave me an incredulous look, like he was surprised that I would think anything else. “I’m happy to—to help you, in any way that I can. In any way that you want me to. If that means you need someone to stay with you, someone you feel safe with, then I’m happy to do that. My home is your home, if you want it to be.”
He couldn’t really mean that forever. He only meant it in a… a temporary way. That was how people always meant it. That was how friends were with each other, you offered each other safe havens and support. Laird didn’t mean that he wanted me to stay as in… stay. Not in a romantic, ‘move in with me’ kind of way. I had to be careful to remember that. Laird was a generous and caring person. I couldn’t mistake one thing he said for another, just because I wished that it was so.
“Please,” I said, feeling pathetic but also wanting so desperately to be taken care of that it felt like the worst sort of ache in my chest. I felt taken care of with Laird, and it was so comforting, and addictive in a way, because it had been so long since I had felt looked after and cared for like that.
Laird pulled back, and at first I thought that it was to pull away, but then he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in, tucking me against his chest so that I was practically in his lap. I felt so warm and safe, I nearly started crying. “Don’t you worry, love, whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”
Oh, shit.
That meant I had to tell him about Pete.
28
Laird
I was genuinely scared for Trudie. I’d never seen her behave like this before, no matter how much stress she was under because of the whole fake marriage thing. I’d never seen anyone behave like this, actually. It was worrying, to say the bloody least.
Just because I’d never seen anyone behave like this, though, didn’t mean that I was fucking stupid. I’d figured out a while ago that there was some kind of trauma in Trudie’s past, and this was that trauma manifesting. Something had happened that triggered her into this… panic attack, I supposed, for lack of a better term. I was worried about what it had been that triggered her, especially since she said she didn’t feel safe here. Was someone after her? Was she afraid of an attack of some kind?
I helped her to pack up her things—she didn’t have much, and most of it was just the clothes that I’d bought her in preparation for the trip—and then I spoke to Edith about how I would be having her stay with me for a bit. Edith was perfectly understanding and tried to resist the cash that I gave her, but I insisted.
“Trudie’s a good girl,” Edith promised me. “You look after her right, or I’ll be boxing your ears.”
“You sound like my mum,” I told her in response, cracking a smile. “I’ll look after her, ma’am, don’t you worry.”
Trudie was silent on the drive over to my place, but it wasn’t the same kind of silence as before. It was more like she wanted time to gather her thoughts, like she was thinking through things rather than just shutting down. That was a good thing, I told myself, even as my stomach continued to twist with worry. It was good that she was thinking through all of this, that she wasn’t just vacant inside.
I ordered us some takeout once we got to my apartment, since I figured it had been a while since she’d eaten and I didn’t want to have to tear my focus away from her to cook. Trudie went onto the couch, docile as a lamb, the moment that I shepherded her there. That was even more alarming—Trudie was shy when she’d first met me, yeah, she was shy and skittish with everyone. But easily led? Hell no. She still had sass and she still spoke her mind, even when it looked like it was a struggle for her to do so.
Whatever was fucking her up had fucked her up but good.
After I ordered the dinner, I sat down next to her. I had been so careful with the pet names, only saying ‘love’ since, well, that was a part of the Irish bit, it was something we all called each other easily. My mum called everyone she knew ‘love’. So that slipped out, sometimes, and I just couldn’t help it.
But other words, words like sweetheart or babe, those I had steered well clear from. Now, though, to hell with it. Who the bloody hell cared if she realized I cared about her, more than as a friend? Trudie was in danger and I wanted her to know that I’d do anything to help her out of it, even if that danger was only from herself, in her mind. If she needed a therapist, hell, I’d get her a therapist. No questions asked.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” I asked her, keeping my voice warm and quiet so that I didn’t startle her.
Trudie leaned back against the couch and took a de
ep breath. “I have to tell you something, and I need you… to just be quiet for a bit until I get through all of it. And once I do that I… I don’t know what next, and it’s okay if you’re angry at me for not telling you any of this, but I just wanted to put it all behind me and I didn’t see how it was relevant, so… and I, um, I’ve only told Red, so that he would be prepared in case something happened. He’s been really kind. But it’s still hard to tell people—and I didn’t want you treating me like—like you could—I liked that you were getting to just know me as myself. Without—without any pity or anything.”
“I couldn’t ever pity you.”
“But people look at me differently when they know.” Trudie rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. “And it makes me feel like… like such shit.”
“Hey.” I gently rubbed her back, between her shoulder blades. “I promise, I won’t look at you any differently. You’re still you.” You’re still the woman I love.
Trudie nodded, and then took a few deep, steadying breaths. I remembered that she’d asked me not to say anything, so I kept quiet.
And the whole thing unspooled in front of me. I had known that… bloody hell, of course I’d known that something was up. But I’d had no idea that it was that terrible, that bad, that she’d basically been a prisoner in her own home and life. The tale she spun out for me probably sounded to her like something sad, something to be pitied, but I was just so proud of her. Not everyone could’ve made it out of what she’d endured. It was smart of her, to change her name and her hair, to get the hell out, to zigzag across the country to try and shake off a tail.
“You know now, why I… why I wasn’t sure about saying yes to you,” Trudie explained. “Pete was so nice at first. So charming. And then he just got… it was like walking into a spider trap but the web was all lined with honey. All sweet and distracting.”
Forbidden First Times: A Contemporary Romance Collection Page 35
